#and a finish at a decent hour to boot

[peachygifs]

melisa aslı pamuk in erkege güven olmaz ( ego )  !     /     [   #235 GIFS   ]   in episode 13 can be accessed by clicking here, using my directory, or by following the source link below, bringing the final show total to 3,850. all gifs are made from scratch and should not be edited without asking first. please like and reblog if you found these helpful or plan to use them. consider donating to aid those affected by the earthquake in turkey.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

The Lap Mishap 🎄 (Toji x F!Reader x Gojo 18+ One Shot)

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: In which an innocent situation turns into something a lot more complicated (and sloppier) when you accidentally give the two coworkers that you despise raging boners while working as a mall elf for the holiday season. Fortunately for you, they have a way you can make it up to them and save all of their jobs.

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Mall Santa!Toji; Mall Elves!Gojo & Reader; Younger Woman/Older Men; College Student!Reader x DILF!Toji (Late 30s-Early 40s) x College Student!Gojo (Early 20s); Accidental Boner; Groping; Lap-Sitting; Voyeurism; Masturbation; Dubcon/R*pe; Threesome; Deepthroat; Spit Play; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Facefuck; Objectification; Slutification; Degradation/Praise; Mild Daddy Kink; Bathroom Sex; Cum Play; Throatpies; No PIV

Writer’s Note: I finished this nasty ass one shot just NOW after my new job because I couldn’t wait till this weekend to do it. I haven’t written something this lewd in a hot min tee hee 🤭 I hope y’all enjoy!! -Jazz 🥰🥰

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“Well, don’t you look adorable.”

You glower at the smug and unfortunately attractive older man sitting at the table in the employee’s lounge with a mug of coffee decorated with running Christmas reindeer. “Don’t, Toji,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your ample bosom. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

Toji, the sexy, smug older man in question, sniggers into his coffee. “Well, shit, sourpuss,” he replies in his deep, bare toned voice that sends unwanted shivers down our spine. “I was just givin’ you a compliment. C’mon, you know you look cute!”

‘Cute’ isn’t at all what you’d call your elf outfit for your unwanted shift at your crummy seasonal job at the mall.

You would first call it ‘stupid’ because of the pointed green hat and boots you’re forced to wear with the jingling bells attached so you always make noise when you walk.

The second thing you’d call it is ‘slutty’. The red vest hugs your ample tits which you’ve been blessed and cursed with by the lineage of women in your family, the push-up bra making your girls way more noticeable.

The green skater skirt is way too short and you have to be very careful bending anywhere in fear of flashing someone your panties.

And you won’t even mention the red and white striped thigh-high socks and gloves. You feel like a stripper about to make her grand debut at the North Pole dancing in Santa’s workshop!

There is no way the costume designers didn’t know what the fuck they were doing here. You had to rush down the hallway after changing in the locker room to avoid being seen by your fellow overworked and underpaid seasonal employees and mall workers.

You had originally decided to work retail this season to save up on money for Christmas gifts and next year’s tuition. You’re a college student, so your stress levels are at about 100 with winter finals, buying gifts, and still keeping enough sanity to celebrate the holidays on winter break.

You’ve been working retail shifts at Bath & Body Works since September to get a head start on saving plus doing office work for your manager and taking some shifts as a greeter at City Winery aka the only decent restaurant at your local mall.

You thought your time here couldn’t get any worse than customers complaining about discontinued body washes and screaming kids, but you were wrong. When your manager picked you to be the mall elf for the mall Santa shifts this month, you thought you died and descended into Hell.

The only saving graces are that it is only for one month, you get extra pay, and you only have to work four hours throughout the day in this stupid costume. You thought you would have time to relax until the first shift in the privacy of the employee’s lounge, but clearly not.

Of course, you’re forced to share the space with a coworker you can’t stand. “What are you even doing in here?” you ask, scowling at Toji. “Don’t the security guards have their own lounge?”

“Eh,” Toji says, shrugging. “Too many people smoke in there. Plus, you guys got the best mugs.” He raises his mug at you and raises his brows once, smirking at you with that sinful, scarred mouth. “Plus, I need to relax before my shift.”

You sigh, carefully walking into the lounge and taking your Starbucks Frappuccino out of the fridge despite Toji’s presence making you feel nervous enough to fog up your glasses.

Toji Fushiguro is the hot DILF security guard that works full time at the mall to support his son as a single dad. You’ve been working the same shifts as him since September, always earning unwanted attention from him when he opens the doors for you when you arrive and leave your mall shifts.

It is no secret that you strongly dislike the man. He is cocky, pompous, arrogant, and always smells faintly of cigarettes. He is also extremely sexy, standing at six-foot something with defined muscles and arms that could wrestle a bear. You can see why he was hired as a security guard.

He is also a huge slut according to the stories you’ve heard. The man has HUGE community dick (and a huge dick, apparently). He knows he is attractive and knows how to get what he wants from women. But not you, even though he has tried. You wave off his compliments, uninterested in spending any kind of time with him. He is a whore and nothing more.

But Toji isn’t the only coworker at this mall that you detest. “Hey, Fushiiii,” the familiar, silky voice of your fellow college student mockingly sings from the door. Toji begins to laugh, nearly coughing into his coffee. “Damn, Gojo, you look ridiculous!” he guffaws.

You turn from the fridge and you wish you didn’t. Of course, Gojo Satoru is dressed in his own elf costume.

The tall, beefy, six foot-something college athlete and smarty-pants looks less ridiculous than you do despite the silliness of the outfit. His white locks peek out from under his pointed hat and his red socks are stretched tight over his strong calves.

You hide your laughter, refusing to even crack a smile around the guy. Unfortunately, you’re familiar with Satoru. He isn’t quite a friend or really an enemy either…not even an acquaintance. He is more of a colleague who goes to the same school as you and you’ve had many courses with despite you being a junior and him being a senior.

He is also incredibly intelligent, the star basketball player on your uni’s team, just as cocky as Toji, and incredibly good-looking. You’ve had many thoughts of his plump, pink lips and Colgate smile when you should be studying.

Satoru is more than convinced that you two are friends who sometimes flirt. When he sees you, his blue eyes are all aglow. “Ooooh, don’t you look so cute!” he coos.

“Oh, please, don’t start,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “I already had to hear that from him.” You nod at the security guard sitting spread eagle at the table. “But it’s true, ain’t it?” Toji sniggers. “You’re gonna get a whole lot of attraction with this little get-up.”

He reaches out and flicks one of the tiny bells attached to your belt. “Cut it out!” you hiss, slapping his hand away. Your skin grow hot with frustration and embarrassment.

“Oooh, she’s feisty,” Satoru chuckles. “Hang on, I need to get a picture. This is just too good.” He slides his phone out of his pocket, but you duck behind a nearby chair.

“Don’t,” you growl. “Take a picture of yourself. I’m sure your boys on your team would love to see your new get-up.”

Satoru laughs, coming into the kitchen, ducking under the door to avoid hitting his head because he’s so goddamn tall. “I already did and I still look good,” he replies. “How much you wanna bet I’ll snag a single MILF with this fit?”

He gives you a wink while Toji laughs, eyes still on you. Anyone else would feel rather intimidated being in a room with two broad, tall, hot dudes, but it is as if you have no inkling that these two are even remotely attracted to you.

A little self-deprecating of you, but you’re an extreme nerd. Not only are you rocking glasses that make your eyes explode to the capacity of the frames, you always have your nose stuck in a book or a study guide. You don’t get involved in dating on campus or who is fucking who.

While it would be nice to find someone nice to call a boyfriend, you know that men are too involved with less-nerdy girls to even try to talk to you, and you prefer it that way…at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“You wish,” you scoff at Satoru as he passes you to grab a bottle of water. As he does, his hip bumps yourself, making you feel as if you’ve just been burned.

“She’s gotchu there, Gojo,” Toji chuckles. “Not when my sexy ass is gonna be wearin’ this Santa outfit.”

“Wait, what?” You turn to stare at the security guard, mouth open in shock. “You’re playing the mall Santa this year?”

Toji nods and smirks at your reaction, moving his legs from under the table to reveal his leather boots and red pants with furry, white trim along the ankles and belt. His black tee is tight against his toned, impressive upper torso, outlining each ridge of his pecs and abs.

“That’s correct, my dear elf,” he teasingly answers, making Satoru snigger. “You’re about to be workin’ for me in the next few minutes and for the rest of the month.”

“And workin’ with me,” Satoru adds, his pink lips curled into a teasing smile that boils your blood. “Your favorite project partner and classmate.” He, too, plays with the bell on your belt, making you swat his hand away.

This couldn’t be any worse! The last thing you want is to spend the next month with these two assholes. You desperately want to hit your manager up and tell her to switch you with someone else, but you know that no one else is willing to be the mall elf this year.

So with a heavy heart, you finish your few minutes of privacy with your Frappuccino in the locker room before you’re forced to stand alongside Satoru the Mall Elf while Toji gets settled in his fake armchair among the gaudy Christmas setup for Santa Claus. Toji sits in the whole Santa getup, beard to cover his cleanly-shaven face and all. His legs are spread eagle and you have to avoid looking at him so you won’t be staring at his crotch.

Two more mall elves, high schoolers Yuji Itadori and Kugisaki Nobara, help round up the kids in line and chat with the parents (or argue with them, courtesy of Nobara) while Satoru announces to the kids how to conduct themselves around Toji Claus. “Aaaaalright, boys and girls!” he bellows, his voice echoing among the dozens of rosy-faced little munchkins. “Are y’all ready to meet Santa Claus?!”

“Yeeeeeah!” the kids cheer, overexcited and overjoyed to sit in a grown man’s lap, telling him what they want for Christmas, and get some photos snapped.

You smile a bit. You’ll admit that Satoru is good with kids being the yapper he is. “Now just as a reminder to you fine folks: no shoving, hitting, yelling or spitting. There is plenty of Santa to go around. When you finally come up here with me and this other fine elf here…”

He motions a hand to you and gives you a wink that you nearly miss. You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flips. “…you sit in Santa’s lap and nicely tell him what you’d like for Christmas,” he finishes. “You guys got it?” While some nod in understanding, others look lost. “I think they need a demonstration, Satoru!” Itadori calls while Nobara snorts.

Satoru wickedly grins at Toji, but the mall Santa isn’t having that. “Nah,” he deadpans behind his fake beard. “You’re too tall to be a kid…but she’s not.” He points at you with one gloved hand, smirking. “You ready to be a model student, college girl?” he whispers.

“Fuck off,” you hiss under your breath. There is no way he can be serious about this! “Our dear elf Y/N, Santa’s favorite elf at the North Pole, is about to demonstrate for you guys what to do,” Satoru announces, struggling hard to fight his laughter.

Toji pats his lap, his smile almost obscene. “Come, little girl: sit on Da—, I mean Santa’s lap.”

You simmer hot with anger and frustration, not just for him but for Satoru who even thought to encourage this. But with the kids and parents all looking at you, you have no choice.

Swallowing your pride and not-so-nice words, you smooth your skirt over your ass and take a tentative seat in Toji’s warm, muscular lap. You sit rigidly, your hands stiffly in your lap and shoulders tense.

Toji places a hand on the arm of his chair, right next to your elbow. “Now what would you like for Christmas, hm?” he asks. “A Barbie? A puppy? Maybe a sense of humor?”

You turn to him, your jaw thigh. “I hate you,” you mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you too well, little girl,” he replies, tapping his ear. “Santa’s hearin’ ain’t too good. Can you speak up for me?” His eyes glow with humor and mirth, finding enjoyment in your suffering.

You fix a smile onto your face and look straight at the happy-faced kids. “A Barbie please, Santa,” you chirp, your voice fake and cheery. Suddenly, a big, gloved hand snakes around your waist, holding you firmly onto his lap. You gape at him, alarmed. “W-What are you—“

“And what else, little girl?” he interrupts, his voice growing lower. More seductive. “Go on, tell ol’ Santa what else you’d like under your tree.” His grip tightens a bit, not enough to hurt you but just enough to be possessive of you. You stare at him, completely speechless.

“Oh, oh, I want a kitty cat!” a little girl yells from the line of kids. Her bold statement causes the other kids to begin screaming out what they want. The commotion distracts the adults enough for you to deal with Toji. “What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss. “Let go of me!”

You try to stand up, but Toji tightens his arm and snatches you back down, his fingers nearly digging into your thigh as your skirt rides up an inch. “Ah-ah, don’t move around too much, doll,” he whispers, his voice like smooth whiskey. “You’ll cause somethin’ that you didn’t intend to do…or maybe you did.”

As you see his eyes grow hooded, you feel your stomach fluttering with frantic butterflies…as well as something else. Something you feel growing underneath you. When you accidentally shift in Toji’s lap, he quietly groans behind his fake beard, muffling the noise, but you hear it.

You also feel the very obvious, hard, swelling, throbbing bulge growing underneath your ass. “Oh, my God,”you gasp, looking behind you. “Y-You’re…you’re ha—“

“Sorry,” he apologizes though he doesn’t sound the least bit sorry. “But can ya blame me? I’m a guy, after all.”

You gape at him, your face ablaze, unsure of what to do or how to feel. Should you feel flattered? Disgusted? Embarrassed? With the way his hand is still securely wrapped around you, you aren’t sure anymore. “Y-You can’t—“

“What?” Toji chuckles, his laughter soft yet seductive. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoyin’ this or like you haven’t been eye-fucking me since we met.” His gray eyes slide over to the tall, white-haired elf currently chatting up a married couple. “Not just me but the basketball star too.”

You are unable to talk despite your desire to protest. But he’d know you weren’t telling the truth.

Toji pulls his beard down to show off his plump, kissable lips and you have the sudden urge to kiss his scar. “Lucky for you, babes, I’ve got a thing for chicks with glasses.” He smiles up at you, the act somehow making him more handsome and more irritating.

His grip loosens and you finally shoot out of his lap as if your ass is on fire. Speaking of ass, the damn thing is nearly out because of how your skirt has ridden up past your red stockings.

“Alright, boys and girls!” Satoru yells. “Time for…” He turns around, just in time to get a flash of your red panties and how soft and suckable your thighs look in your stockings. ”Fuck,” he says under his breath, gaping at you and envisioning some very nasty things.

“Time for some photos!” Itadori calls. “Everybody line up, one at a time to meet Santa!”

Satoru is too distracted by your soft thighs and the flash of your red panties to pay any attention to his job. You notice his eyes and quickly pull your skirt down as low as it can go….which isn’t very low.

“I’m shocked you ain’t feelin’ a draft,” Toji whispers. “Careful, doll. You might flash the kiddos.” You glare, but not at him. You don’t look anywhere at him. “I could tell you the same thing, jackass,” you hiss. “Don’t look at me.”

But you can still feel his glaring, hot gaze on you, as well as Satoru’s. Nobara has to kick him in the ankle to snap him out of it. “Uh, Gojo?” she whispers. “Helloooo? The camera for the pictures?”

Blushing as red as Toji’s uniform, Satoru quickly fumbles with the camera as the first little boy comes up to Toji, smiling big and bright for the mall Santa. You stand off to the side, discreetly pulling at your skirt and wishing to melt into the floor.

After an hour of standing there pretending not to be aroused by the idea of Toji’s cock, you’re finally given a 30-minute break for lunch. You quickly make a beeline for the security guards’ break room located at the back of the mall, knowing that most of them are posted outside or on duty on different floors.

The breakroom is luckily empty, but you can barely eat most of your lunch except for a bag of chips and gulp down some water. You can’t even relax. Mostly because of the throbbing sensation between your legs.

You whimper, shifting your body in the chair closest to the private locker room and bathroom. You have felt like this for over an hour, doing your best to ignore the tingling between your thighs as you assisted each kid.

But now as you sit in the privacy and darkness of the break room, you can’t ignore the uncomfortable wetness of your panties anymore…or how depraved you are getting horny over Toji’s cock. You know you can’t go on like this, not when you need to work.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mutter to yourself. But you leave your post anyway and quickly hide in the empty locker room where you proceed to shut the door and sit on the bench farthest away from it.

Quickly, you reach under your skirt and slip your panties down to your thighs. “Ah,” you gasp as the warm air hits your bare, sodden wet pussy. You are a mess. How could the idea of Toji getting a stupid boner arouse you so?

When you close your eyes, the images get worse. You see the sexy, smirking security guard peeling down his Santa pants to reveal his fat, throbbing, veiny cock just curved enough to help you imagine what it would stroke inside of you.

As you take two fingers and begin to slowly rub your needy clit, you see yourself wrapping your lips around the thick cock in front of you as your hand wraps around his shaft. You can almost taste him, feel his warm balls against your chin.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper, your voice quivering as your fingers grow slippery. Your slick trickles down your slit as you frantically play with yourself, hearing Toji’s low moans in your head as he sinks into your throat.

You can feel yourself growing closer, your pussy oozing more and more slick just as Toji begins to fuck your face as he grabs the back of your head, pulling your hair. Your breath comes out in short pants that sound louder in the empty locker room as the knot in your core grows tighter. “T-T-To—“

The door suddenly opens and there the mall Santa stands. He looks shocked to see you at first, but then his face turns into one of pure smugness. “Now what do we have here?” he mockingly asks. “A very naughty fuckin’ girl.”

You nearly scream, quickly closing your legs and covering yourself. “Fuck!” you gasp. “What the fuck are doing in here?!”

Toji leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his beefy chest. He has ditched the Santa jacket for his black tee, but kept the pants and boots. “Came in for a break since all the guards are on shift, but I see you decided to do the same thing.”

You flush hot with humiliation, your heart pummeling in your chest. “T-This isn’t what it looks like,” you weakly say. Toji cocks his head to the side. “Really? ‘Cause it looks and sounded like you were just rubbin’ that little pussy to the thought of me before your next shift.”

His lips curl into a knowing smile. “So the earlier situation got to you too. Lucky for you, babydoll, I’m still not over it either.”

His big hand grips his hard-on chubbing against his red pants, captivating you.

Then…zzzzzip. His fly comes down, his belt comes off, and suddenly, his cock is out and slapping against his toned stomach and happy trail. It is as thick, veiny, and curved as you envisioned in your fantasy. Your eyes grow wide at the sight like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, you can’t move.

“I’m still very much on the hard side,” he breathlessly states, his eyes hooded with lust. “And since this is your fault, I think you need to take responsibility for it.” He flashes his teeth at you in a grin, wrapping a hand around his hard cock. “Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

You watch him jerk his dick in front of you, your pussy clenching around air at the lewd sight. Suddenly, he stops and walks up to you, his boots thudding across the floor. He looms over you, a wolfish grin on his face, and you lean back as far as you can against the lockers like a trapped animal. “C’mon, you can be a good little helper for Santa and help me out, right?”

You don’t know whether to say yes or tell him to go fuck himself. You know you should go for the second option. After all, he’s being a pervert and using earlier as an excuse.

But somehow, all common knowledge, logic, and ethics go out the window when you suddenly find yourself dragged into a bathroom stall and kneeling on the tiled floor with Toji’s cock in your mouth. His big hand intertwines in your hair, his thick, calloused fingers gripping each strand to push and pull you onto his cock.

“You’re doin’ so good so far, babydoll,” he praises, his voice strained with pleasure. “Keep it up for me, ‘kay? You’ve got about twenty minutes left to make Santa cum.”

His groans and grunts are quiet yet delicious, heard by your ears only in the empty bathroom stall as your cheeks hollow around his cock. He is bigger and thicker than you anticipated, leaving your jaw aching trying to accommodate him as you suck him off. Saliva drips down from your mouth down your chin, threatening to stain your top.

As if thinking the same thing, Toji rips your top down, exposing your tits to him. “Fuck, look at how sexy you are,” he groans, watching the way your chest jiggles and sways as your throat expands and flexes around him. “Such a good little slut for me. Swore you didn’t want me, but now look at you.”

He forces your chin up to look at him, your watery eyes and crooked glasses staring up into his devious, salacious gaze. “Betcha you always wanted to do this,” he chuckles. “Betcha you played hard to get just to drive me fuckin’ crazy like the little cock whore you are.”

He wipes some spit away from your lips before he pushes himself in deeper, nearly making you choke. You pull yourself away far enough to cough and catch your breath. “T-Toji, wait,” you gasp. “You’re too deep!”

He ignores you, forcing your mouth open and plunging himself back between your plush, wet lips to sink into your sloppy, velvety throat. “But you can take me, baby,” he pants. “Oooh, I know you can. Sluts like you feen for nasty shit like this.”

He begins to fuck your face, emitting squelching sounds from his wet cock constantly plunging into your throat as you gag around him. “Yeah, that’s it,” he moans in delight. “That’s what I like to hear. You just keep bein’ a good girl for me, baby.”

Your throat continues to make the most obscene, wet, and lewd sounds, the squelching and gagging possibly drifting throughout the bathroom and locker room rafters. The more Toji rails your face and plunges his cock into your throat, the louder the sounds become. His grunts and moans also grow louder, bouncing off of the tiled walls.

You can tell he is close from the way he grabs the back of your head, forcing your face closer until his balls are flush against your chin. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum!” he groans, his muscular, naked thighs tense as he fucks your mouth like he is trying to hit a home run. “C’mon, doll, take Daddy’s fuckin’ load.” He pauses, chuckling. “I mean take Santa’s load. You want a white Christmas, don’tcha?”

You can’t even answer. You can’t warn him either when the door to the bathroom suddenly opens just as Toji’s loud, guttural groan of release escapes his mouth. As the bathroom stall flies open, a load of Toji’s warm spunk floods your throat, filling your mouth to capacity. There is so much that it spills out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin.

“Fuck!” he moans, soft high-pitched hums leaving his lips as he slides his cock out of your mouth and pumps the rest of his cum onto your glasses. Droplets of spunk fly onto the lenses, fogging them up.

You can’t be more horrified by anything else when you turn and find Satoru standing there in his elf costume. He looks shocked to see you kneeling there before Toji with cum all over your mouth, glasses, and some on your tits with your pussy openly gushing through your panties on the floor. But once the shock subsides, a Cheshire Cat-like smile appears on his lips. “Oops,” he chuckles. “Guess I’m in the wrong bathroom.”

Toji laughs, sounding like a straight-up villain. “Nah, you’re in the right place. You’ve still got time left if ya wanna use it on her.” Satoru shuts the bathroom stall and you realize just how big it exactly is. Big enough for three people. “Shit,” he scoffs, a shit-eating grin on his face. “What else am I here for?”

Both men look down upon you like you’re no more than a dessert plate for consumption. Despite the ridiculous costumes, the duo remind you of villains. “Sorry to shock you, cutie, but he ain’t the only one you’ve got rock.” Satoru palms his hard cock pushing against his green pants. “I’ve been thinkin’ about those lips and these panties for hours.”

He kneels and forces you into a face-down, ass-up position, making you squeak in surprise. You have to cushion your cheek with your hands to avoid the nasty floor. When one of Satoru’s fingers slides against your pantyline, you gasp. “Oh! And she’s wet!” He tuts at you, giving your ass a harsh spank and groaning at the recoil. “Naughty little elf. What would Santa say?”

He takes your panties by the waistband and tugs them tight against your wet pussy, making you whimper at the friction. Toji chuckles, giving your ass his own harsh spank. “Santa’s says this little whore needs to be punished,” he whispers and it’s almost threatening to your ears.

And punish you, they do…in their own wicked, lewd, torturous way. Suddenly, you find yourself sitting on the toilet seat with your legs while Toji kneels between your thighs, slurping and licking away at your cunt while his thick finger fucks your hole. Satoru stands to your left, rutting his hips into your mouth, his long dick plunging in and out of your throat.

“Fuck, your mouth is so wet, honey,” he moans, palming one of your tits. “Shit, Toji, how much did you cum in here?” His handsome face is flushed and his blue eyes are desperate as he does his best to quiet his whimpers and whines over your sloppy throat.

Toji chuckles, his tongue piercing tickling your clit as he flicks the tip of his tongue against it, sending shocks of sensitivity and tingles of pleasure throughout your body. “Enough to make her throat slick enough to fuck.” Your pussy clenches around his finger, your velvety, slick walls tightening around his digit.

The older man looks up at you, smirking into your desperate, needy eyes. “Oooh, I tasted that gush. You like the sound of another throatpie for that slutty mouth, babydoll?” He dives back into your pussy, his tongue sloshing and slashing about, probing an answer out of you. “Mmm-hmph-mmm!” you whine around Satoru’s cock, your screams muffled by his constant fucking.

Toji chortles into your pussy, pulling away to regard Satoru with your slick all over his lips. “That’s a yes,” he chuckles. Satoru blushes, overcome with lust as he watches his long cock disappear between your soft, juicy lips. “F-Fuck, I hope so,” he whines, cupping your cheek. “Goddamn, cutie, you’re fucking mouth is….”

His words die into desperate moans as he continues to ram your throat like he’s trying hard to fill it with his babies. Your nostrils are full of the scent of his body wash and cologne, somehow acting as aphrodisiacs for you. “You sound even sluttier than her,” Toji chuckles. “I think she likes it though. Look at this sexy little bitch.”

Under their hot gazes, you feel like the slut they see: titties out, pussy exposed, and getting used in a bathroom stall. Satoru takes his cock out to lightly tap your tongue. “You like gettin’ this mouth fucked at work, slutty girl?” he teases.

Before you can even think of a reply, Toji hooks his finger up in a way that makes your eyes roll back. “O-Oh, fuck!” you moan, louder than you should’ve. Satoru quickly plugs your mouth back up with his cock, plunging deeper and deeper, making you take every inch. “Mmm, that’s a pretty face, cutie. Keep lookin’ at me like that.”

His blue eyes kick on yours, reminding you of oceans in the far-away Caribbean Islands, while he slips his cock out of your mouth. He grips your chin and whispers a fierce “C’mere” before his lips are slamming against yours.

As you kiss, Toji’s tongue moves faster, his moans traveling up to your core and sending vibrations through your clit. Satoru pulls away and spits in your mouth, the act so quick and surprising that you nearly miss it.

“Spit it back on my cock,” he demands and you do, making his cock shiny with your spit before he slides back in. After a few more sloppy thrusts that cause your glasses to wobble and spit to drip down your chest, he’s close. “Shit!” he gasps. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me, m’gonna cum! You’re gonna…fuck, baby!”

You are too. You can feel your pussy tightening, clenching, throbbing with the urge to release. “Mmmm!” you whine around his cock, your thighs trembling around Toji’s neck.

The security guard intensely stares at you, forcing you to cum with that damn finger crooked inside of you. “Give it to me,” he demands. “You know you fuckin’ want to. Go ‘head, babydoll.”

You can’t help yourself. You hush all around Toji’s cock just as Satoru loses the last thread of self control and cums deep in your mouth with a long, loud moan that no doubt attracts unwanted attention from the outside.

Another fat, creamy throatpie fills your mouth and streams down your throat, nearly making you choke. Satoru luckily pulls out, but only to jerk the last drops of spunk onto your tits and glasses, staining your skirt and top in the process.

As the last tendrils of pleasure course through you, Toji slurps you up and leaves your pussy twitching from his ministrations. As he sits back to sigh, Satoru releases a huff, exhausted but satisfied. “Oh, fuck,” he groans followed by a whistle. “That was amazing! Definitely needed for a shitty shift.”

Toji nods, his lips coated in you. “I concur,” he hums in pleasure. He leans up to get eye level with you and holds your chin in his hand. “C’mere, doll…taste yourself. This slutty pussy is just too good to not share.”

He smashes his lips against yours, pulling you in for a sloppy French kiss that steals your breath away. Jealous, Satoru yanks you away towards him.

“Save some for me,” he murmurs before he leans in to kiss you, softly moshing as he does. He then pulls away, kneels, and slurps the rest of you off of your open thighs despite your whimpers of agony. It hurts too good.

Ring-ring-ring!

You jump at the sudden sound. Satoru reaches into his back pocket to get his phone. “Uh-oh!” he mockingly announces. “That’s the timer. Break time is over.”

Toji begins to get dressed, zipping up his fly and tucking in his shirt. “We should probably clean her up. Poor baby looks like she can’t even walk.” He laughs at your expense, humored by your fucked-out, messy state.

Despite them both using your holes just now, the two dress and clean you up as much as possible. They pull your skirt down, fix your top, clean off your glasses, and smooth down your skirt.

Once finished, Toji passes you a napkin out of his pocket. “Wipe your mouth, babydoll,” he sniggers. “You don’t want people to ask what’s on your face…or glasses. Shit, we did a number on ya.”

He plants a sloppy, wet tongue kiss on your mouth, filling your tongue with the taste of your pussy and himself. “This was a lot of fun, sugar,” he says with a smirk. “Call me again if you need a worthwhile break, alright?”

You wordlessly stare at him, unable to form words…or even think them.

“Same here,” Satoru adds, flashing you a smile as he fixes his costume. “I’ll know who to go to for my little ‘problem’ next time.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before he and Toji head out of the stall back to work.

But Satoru stops and turns back to you, smirking. “Oh, and…”

He bends down and snatches up your red panties, tugging on the waistband with his teeth before stuffing them in his pocket.

“These are mine.”

He gives you a wink and blows you a kiss. “See ya out there!” he hollers before he disappears out of the bathroom with Toji, leaving you alone with your thoughts and regrets. But also supremely satisfied.

In the end, you’re late back to your shift.

THE END.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk. 

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone. 

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation. 

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins. 

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look. 

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him. 

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words. 

And he was right. 

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off. 

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now. 

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat. 

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch. 

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed. 

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned. 

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face. 

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry. 

“Come on.” 

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth. 

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom. 

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space. 

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler. 

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep. 

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life. 

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around. 

He was making breakfast. 

“Hey.” 

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other. 

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something. 

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened. 

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door. 

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why. 

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out. 

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you. 

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did. 

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him. 

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places. 

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning. 

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you. 

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged. 

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head. 

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.” 

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again. 

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you. 

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back. 

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom. 

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do. 

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone. 

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question. 

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone. 

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn. 

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.” 

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road. 

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing. 

However, that caused one problem. 

Tyler. 

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body. 

Filling out his jeans in all the right places. 

With a crisp white t-shirt. 

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head. 

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler. 

 “Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure. 

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into. 

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you. 

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you. 

“How’d you mean?” You asked. 

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back. 

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth. 

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other. 

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did. 

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips. 

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor. 

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand. 

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both. 

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would. 

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push. 

But you wanted him to. 

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck. 

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall. 

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment. 

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it. 

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end. 

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment. 

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground. 

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell. 

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too. 

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you. 

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded. 

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing. 

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch. 

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people. 

You and Tyler. 

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together. 

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders. 

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band. 

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor. 

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop. 

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more. 

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand. 

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you. 

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him. 

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

I Dwell in Possibility (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Your aunt Liz warns you to stay away from her ADA. Too bad for her, you'd never been good at doing what you're told.

Words: 9.3k

Warnings: Forbidden romance, reciting poetry, oral (R giving), hickeys, swearing, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, secret relationship, strap (R receiving), dirty talk, angst, hurt/comfort

“You’re not my aunt.”

The woman looking up at you from the low sofa was not the one you were expecting. Strawberry blonde hair shining in the overhead light, fierce green eyes, full pink lips, she was the kind of woman that would devastate your heart with so little effort. Leaning your hip on the doorway, you checked the door again, certain you were in the right place. It was just like you remembered from all the hours you’d spent staying out of trouble under the watchful gaze of your aunt during your more rebellious years as a teenager.

“Not last time I checked,” the mystery woman said.

Her eyes swept over you, assessing in a way that made your nerves vibrate. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, letting her look her fill, hoping you’d pass muster. You didn’t even know her name, and yet you wanted this woman’s approval.

“I didn’t realise Judge Donnelly had a niece,” she said, her voice a low timbre.

“I have two, and don’t even think about it.”

You whirled, finding your aunt standing behind you, the kind of look that once had you quaking in your boots on her face. Instead, your face split into a huge grin. Her face softened upon seeing you, not in a way most people would notice, but she’d been your favourite person by the time you’d graduated high school and moved away for college. She was the only reason you’d managed to get in somewhere decent. Somehow, despite all your raging against The Man, she’d kept you on track. Your sister had never understood your relationship with her, being one of the people who quaked under her gaze.

“Guess who’s back,” you said, giving her some nice jazz hands to drive your point home.

“No wonder the amount of the trouble in the city has increased,” she said.

“You missed me. Just admit it,” you said, knowing you were being the kind of cheeky that could get you told off.

She sighed but her embrace was tight. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. You’d missed it more than you could possibly put into words.

“So you finally finished grad school,” she said once you’d drawn away.

“I’m a bonafide doctor now. No way you can go around telling everyone I’m your wayward niece. You can just admit I’m your favourite without shame,” you said.

“And you’re a doctor in what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something very interesting and not at all practical, just like God intended,” you said.

She shook her head but you saw the way her lips curled up into a smile. She finally entered her office, you trailing after her. The woman, still an unknown, had been watching with a rapt attention that kept making your skin prickle. Your eyes darted down to her, teeth sinking into your lower lip again.

“Please tell me you haven’t returned to the city looking for a hand out,” your aunt said as she sat in her chair behind her imposing desk.

“I’ll have you know I have actual employment like a productive member of society,” you said.

She scoffed but it was the fond kind, not the kind that said you were in danger. You were achingly familiar with both.

“No, seriously. My supervisor knew a guy in the English department at NYU and put in a good word for me,” you said, “I’m teaching intro to the Romantics this year.”

“A worthwhile endeavour I’m sure,” she said.

“Hey, critical thinking is an important skill. Plus, reciting poetry always goes down well when trying to score a date,” you said, falling back on the couch. Only as your arm brushed hers did you remember someone was already occupying it.

“Tell me you didn’t spend all those years at college just to pick up women,” she said with an eye roll.

“That wasn’t the only reason. It was just an added benefit.” You winked at the woman sitting next to you, lips pulling up into a smirk.

“Get out,” your aunt said.

Your eyes shot back over to her but she was looking at the woman beside you.

“You asked me to come see you,” she said.

“Later,” she said.

She stared at your aunt for a moment before she collected up her papers back into the file they’d originally come from. You watched her leave, appreciating the pencil skirt she was in.

“Who was that?” you asked once the door was closed and you knew she wouldn’t hear you.

“ADA Casey Novak and if she knows what’s good for her she’ll stay away from you,” she replied.

“Aw, are you getting all protective, Aunty Liz? You’ll be putting Dad out of a job,” you said.

“Oh, I’m trying to protect her. You’re a hurricane of trouble,” she said.

“Maybe I’ve grown up. It has been a while since I’ve lived here,” you said.

“Stay away from my ADA,” she said, using her commanding voice.

She should have known better. You’d always wanted what you weren’t allowed. And you wanted Casey Novak.

Over the next few weeks you were around your aunt’s office a lot more, traversing the halls as you reacquainted yourself with the building. Keeping your eye out for a certain strawberry blonde, you’d wander around as you waited for your new job to start. Your aunt, doing her best to ignore what you were doing, put up with your impromptu visits with grace.

Sitting in on one of her trials, you found yourself coming face to face with Casey Novak again. Or rather, you could lean back and watch her dominate in the court room. It sent a flutter through your body and an itch in your fingers to sink into her. She was magnificent, a sight to behold, a lion taking down her prey with a precision that was breathtaking.

And from her pursed lips, your aunt was not happy about your presence there to see such a display.

“What are you doing here?” she asked after calling a five minute recess.

“I came to see you in action. I like watching you scare the little people,” you replied, “tell me, I’ve always wanted to know, do you practice that scowl in the mirror or does it come naturally to you?”

“You don’t care about my scowls. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain ADA I warned you to stay away from,” she replied.

“Aw, you do care,” you said, “you seriously think I’m going to ruin your ADA?”

Something interesting settled in her face, arms crossed over her chest. You sighed, looking away from her.

“If it means that much to you, Aunty Liz, I won’t do anything with her,” you said, knowing that giving up one gorgeous woman was the least you could do for the woman who kept you from making all the wrong decisions with your life.

She gave you a small smile, one of the fonds one that let you knew you’d made the right decision. It was the kind she gave you any time you came back with an A on a test she’d helped you study for. You sighed.

“But you owe me one. She is insanely hot,” you said, but you were smiling and the sting wasn’t so bad when it was your decision to follow the rules.

You left the courthouse, knowing you had prep work to do before the semester started. No more stalking the halls hoping to run into Casey Novak by “coincidence” and strike up a conversation that might end in her bed. She was just another gorgeous woman who would remain a ‘what if’.

It was easy to push thoughts of her to the side in the flurry of semester beginning. You couldn’t believe how much work went into teaching a college course, your sympathy going out to every professor you’d ever had. Especially those teaching your intro classes, when freshmen came in with all the confidence they hadn’t earned.

“When did becoming devil’s advocate become the cool thing for boys to do?” you asked.

Your aunt looked up at you from over the rim of her glasses, looking less than impressed with your question. You sighed, slumping back against her sofa. On one of the few days you weren’t teaching, you’d sought refuge in the only place you knew would offer you both a slap over the head and a warm hug. Using the pretence of lunch, you’d brought her food and your frustration.

“Okay, sure, they’ve always kind of been like that but now I have to hold my tongue and not go off on how stupid they are,” you complained.

“Yes, because now you’re the adult in the room,” she replied with all the judgement held in her body in her voice.

“How do you manage it?” you asked, looking at her again, “I’ve seen some of your cases. You’ve dealt with some real…”

You couldn’t find the right word.

“Assholes?”

You turned, finding the only woman in the city you were forbidden from even thinking about standing in the doorway. Your aunt’s eyes darted to yours then back to Casey Novak and you saw the warning there.

“You said it, not me,” you said with a small laugh.

The way she stepped into the room had you forcing yourself to look away. Her hips were swaying with a cockiness you’d attempted to pull off plenty of times and had never quite managed. If you kept staring you might never stop.

“Did you need something, Casey?” your aunt asked.

“The Jensen case,” she replied.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” you said, standing, collecting up your rubbish.

Your shoulder brushed Casey Novak’s as you passed her, a jolt of electricity going through you. Your gaze caught on hers as you passed and you felt your breath still.

It was a good thing you loved your aunt so much or else you’d be in trouble.

Taking yourself out for coffee was becoming one of your Saturday traditions. A worn paperback in your hands and a corner table with your caffeine fix and some kind of pastry was easily becoming your favourite part of your week. It was early enough in your weekend that you didn’t feel guilty for not having started on any of the work you still had to get done for Monday morning. You could relax, taking time for yourself.

“Is this seat taken?”

You glanced up, expecting someone looking to steal the other seat and take it to their table. Instead, green eyes were looking down at you, pretty pink lips curling up into a half smile. Casey Novak, in jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back, was standing before you in the morning light, looking like a dream come to life.

“Not at all,” you said.

She sat, legs spreading just enough to make you wonder if she was doing it on purpose. Leaning back in the chair, her eyes slid over you, leaving fire in their wake. You took a slow slip from your coffee, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you put the cup down.

“Is there something I can do for you, ADA Casey Novak?” you asked when her gaze darkened.

“You can start by just calling me Casey,” she said.

She thanked the waiter as he placed a coffee in front of her. You watched her take her first sip, her eyes closing in bliss. She placed the cup down again, turning that burning gaze on you.

“So what do you want, Casey?” you asked.

“Knowing your name would be a start,” she said.

The way it sounded on her lips as she repeated it made you shiver. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip again and you saw her focus on it, leaning forward slightly. The heat that went through you was searing and the throb was insistent, keeping time with your racing heart.

This was dangerous.

“Judge Donnelly is very determined to keep us from running into one another,” she said, a soft hum of a voice.

“So you thought you’d hunt me down to see what all the fuss is about?” you asked.

“Call it a happy coincidence. I was passing by, you happened to be here, no planning involved,” she said, “so your aunt can’t crucify me for taking the opportunity to say hello.”

“Do you always do what you’re told not to do?” you asked, tilting your head towards her.

“Not always. Only if it sounds fun,” she said, her smirk making your heart flutter. This felt too much like flirting.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, ADA Casey Novak,” you said, leaning away from her.

“Nothing wrong with a little trouble,” she said.

Certainly not when trouble looked like a smirking Casey Novak.

“And besides, who needs to know? I don’t see you ratting us out to Donnelly,” she said.

Her fingers brushed over the back of your hand, sending sparks up your arm. Your lips parted as your hand flipped, offering her your palm. They traced over it, the feeling of her touch burning through you. You weren’t proud of yourself for giving in so easily, but pretty women had always been your downfall.

“I promised her,” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything. It’s just coffee,” she said, the definition of temptation.

“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

“I’m used to getting what I want,” she said and you found it intoxicating the way her eyes smouldered as they looked at you.

“I suppose she didn’t say anything about not having coffee together,” you said slowly.

Her satisfaction was obvious in the smug set of her shoulders. You laughed and something in her face brightened.

“What are you reading?” she asked, nodding down to your book as her finger continued to trace patterns into your palm.

“Frankenstein,” you said, nudging it closer to her, “I can’t read poetry every moment of every day.”

“Do you really recite it to pick up women?” she asked, picking up your old book, the spine cracked to the point it fell open in her hand.

“Thy soul was like a star and dwelt apart/thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea,” you recited to her.

You saw a flush bloom high on her cheeks, eyes sparkling as she seemed to lose whatever smart comeback she had. You grinned, hiding it behind your coffee cup, lowering your eyes in a show of false modesty. You liked seeing her a bit flustered, finding it enchanting.

“I suppose I can see the appeal,” she said eventually.

“Wordsworth has yet to fail me,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes at her.

She pushed your novel back across the table to you and then downed her coffee. Her fingers threaded through yours, palm to palm, making you feel like you were losing control of the situation already.

“Did your aunt happen to say anything about ice cream?” she asked.

You shook your head, teeth sinking into your lip again. She grinned, standing, pulling you with her.

“Then let me show you the best ice cream in the city,” she said.

Later, when she’d managed to convince you to return to her apartment with her, she tasted of danger. And trouble. And everything that could destroy you.

When you returned home early Monday morning you were buzzing. You could still feel her lips on your skin and her taste was burnt onto your tongue. Hickeys littered your body and you were deliciously sore. You still smelt like her and you wanted her perfume to linger on your skin for as long as possible.

Maybe Aunty Liz had been onto something about staying away from her.

When she called on Tuesday night you didn’t hesitate to pick up. Lying on your couch, drink in hand, you pressed the phone to your ear as her smokey voice whispered to you.

“Please tell me your day was better than mine,” she requested without even a hello.

“I suppose that depends on how your day was,” you said.

“My case got thrown out,” she said.

“That sucks. Sorry,” you said, “I had a student tell me that only men know how to write romantic poetry.”

“Do you write poetry?” she asked.

“Only of middling talent,” you replied, “nothing worth repeating.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You are a doctor after all,” she said with a small laugh.

“That brag was for my aunt, not for you,” you replied but you were chuckling too.

“Lucky me for being in the room,” she said.

A knock sounded on your door.

“Hang on,” you said, standing up with a groan.

Pulling the door open you should have been expecting the woman on the other side of the door but you hadn’t been. Her lips pulled up into a smile and you held the door open wider for her. Her fingers brushed the back of your hand as she stepped inside.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, “a devastatingly sexy woman just arrived.”

She tossed her cell phone on the couch with a laugh. Your hands landed on her hips, pushing her back until you had her pinned to the wall. Her hands cupping your cheeks dragged you up onto your toes to kiss her, long and slow and deep. She hummed into the kiss, the vibrations going through you.

“Make me forget my day,” she requested when you finally pulled away.

You dragged her to your room, more than happy to oblige. You lowered her onto the bed, crawling up her body. Your hands were seeking her skin, pushing up under the skintight turtleneck she had on. Just the sight of it was driving you crazy, remembering the feeling of her curves in her hands. You kissed her again, not able to stop yourself.

She sighed when you pulled her shirt over her head, your hands finding home on her skin. Your thumb brushed over her ribcage from your hand’s place on her waist. Your lips ghosted down her body, feeling her tremble.

“There witching beauty greets the ravished sight/more gentle than the arbitress night,” you whispered into her skin.

She made such a soft noise, one that suggested her chest was caving in. You brushed your lips over the curve of her breast, enjoying the way her breathy moan spurred you on. Wrapping your lips around one peaked nipple, you laved attention on her. She arched into your, fingers winding though your hair. As you sucked, your name fell like a curse from her lips.

Your fingers were quick as they unbuttoned her slacks. Slipping your hand into her panties, you stroked through her folds. Her hips pressed up against your hand, wordlessly begging for more. You kissed across to the other breast, finding the yellowing hickey you’d left only a few days ago. With your tongue, you circled her other hardening nipple, teeth grazing over it for a moment.

“You’re so good at that,” she groaned, fingers tightening in your hair.

You grinned against her as you finger found her clit. Her breathy sigh was gratifying in ways you couldn’t put into words. Slowly, you kissed down her chest, hand slipping from her panties as you grasped her hips. You dragged her slacks down long legs you still remembered curling around you on the weekend.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said, looking up her body.

Your mouth made contact with her throbbing cunt. Keeping a tight hold on her hips, you pressed closer, tongue sweeping through her folds. You moaned at her taste, still addicted to it, the novelty of having her like this not yet having worn off. Staring up your body, you watched as her eyes squeezed closed, fingers fisting in your comforter.

Your tongue dipped into her entrance and a shaky curse fell from her lips. She was so beautiful as her face contorted with pleasure. Wrapping your lips around her bundle of nerves, you suckled as she whimpered above you. You held her in place, refusing to let her use you the way she wanted. You were going to take care of her.

Lifting her legs over your shoulders, you pressed her into the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of her, wanting to spend hours with her doing this. When she came, it was with your name on her lips, the sound of it going right through you.

You were slow to kiss back up her body, finding her lips waiting for you. She kissed you with an enthusiasm that had you groaning. Flipping you, she gazed down at you, lips pulling up into a smirk that was growing familiar.

“You’re entirely too clothed,” she murmured.

“You’d better do something about that then,” you said.

The next morning you woke with her arm flung around your waist and her face buried in your neck. It wasn’t a conscious decision to begin running your fingers through her hair, but when she pressed closer with a soft sigh you didn’t feel the need to stop. You closed your eyes again, nose burying in her hair, breathing in the scent of her perfume again.

“I need to get up,” she mumbled, lips brushing your skin.

“Don’t,” you whispered, “stay.”

“I can’t,” she said, “I need to go fight for my case to be reinstated.”

“You can do that?” you asked.

“If the detectives have found new evidence,” she replied, slow to sit up.

Your eyes tracked over the swathes of skin on display, feeling your mouth water. Something about Casey was addictive to you, making you desperate for more even after hours spent indulging in her body the night before.

“So committed,” you murmured, fingers tracing down her spine, “that’s pretty fucking hot.”

She turned, looking over her shoulder at you. Dark eyes swept over your body, half exposed from where the covers had pooled around her hips. You arched your back, offering more to her gaze.

“And if I win and this rapist goes behind bars, I’ll come back to celebrate with you,” she said.

“Promise?” You tried to smoulder, the way she did that made you feel electric.

She smiled, leaning own to press her lips to yours.

“Promise,” she whispered against your mouth.

She called you by the end of the week. You dressed up all pretty, in a nice dress and a nice pair of heels, hoping to make her head spin the ways yours always did. Meeting her at the restaurant, your breath caught at the sight of the smile she gave you. Then it moved double time as an appreciative look came into her eye.

“If this is what I get for winning a case, I think my conviction rate will go up,” she said, gaze slow to move down your body and then up again before meeting your eye, “you look breathtaking.”

You took her in, the silk dress clinging to her curves, her hair swept up in an elegant undo. Green was certainly her colour. Reaching out, your finger ran along the chain of the necklace she was wearing, watching the way a flush rose to her cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be allowed out like this,” you murmured.

“You don’t like how I look tonight?” she asked.

“I like it entirely too much,” you said, finger stopping at the base of her throat, “the things I want to do to you…”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she chuckled, “patience, sweetheart.”

“I can be patient,” you replied.

“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

Seated across from her, it was hard to look away. Her foot brushed your calf, sending a jolt through you. The way she was looking at you over her menu suggested you were what she was hoping to devour. You’d let her.

Placing your order, she took you through the trail, her voice soothing where the details were traumatic. Her foot kept bumping against yours under the table and each time her lips would quirk up. You found yourself leaning towards her, not able to stop yourself. Her gravity seemed only to affect you.

“But you didn’t ask for a blow by blow of the case,” she said, shaking her head after the food was placed down in front of you.

“I like listening to you,” you said.

“You do?” she asked, a surprise look crossing her face.

“Is that really so surprising?” Your fingertips brushed the back of her hand before retracting, “you have a way with words and the kind of voice I could listen to for hours.”

Something broke over her face, cracking open into a look of wonder. Your breath caught, not sure what to do with such a lovely expression on such a beautiful face. It was baffling that you could bring that out in someone like her.

“I’m beginning to see why your aunt wanted to keep us apart,” she said.

“What do you mean?” That was not what you were expecting to say.

“She knew I’d never let you go once I had you,” she said.

Your face softened into a smile. Reaching across the table, you threaded your fingers through hers, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Her fingers tightened around yours, squeezing for a moment before she released you, beginning to eat.

“And here I was thinking the poetry was the way to seduce you, not the compliments,” you said, picking up your own fork, “might have to switch tracks if I want to keep you around.”

“I like the poetry,” she said, eyes darting up to you.

“And if I was reciting it to someone else…?” you prompted, wondering what was going through her head.

“Are you?” she asked, her gaze sharpening.

“Would it matter if I was?” you asked in response.

“I don’t like to share,” she said, her voice lowering, making you press your thighs together.

You took a slow sip from the wine she’d ordered. Her eyes darkened, lips pursing in a way that suggested you might be in trouble.

“So tell me, sweetheart, have you been reciting your poetry to someone else?” she asked.

“Not recently,” you said.

“How long?” she asked, and you were worried you were walking a razor edge with her.

“A few months,” you replied.

“What happened a few months ago?” she asked but you saw her lips begin to curl up into a small smile.

“I met a beautiful ADA and despite trying to be good, she was very convincing in tempting me to be naughty,” you replied.

She lent forward, her hand finding yours again. Tugging it up, her lips pressed a lingering kiss to your skin, making your breath catch. Your foot bumped hers under the table.

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I could ever regret you, Casey Novak,” you replied.

“So you don’t want to stop?” she asked.

“When Aunty Liz finds out, we’ll deal with the fallout then,” you said.

“When?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“If you’re planning on never letting me go, it’ll have to come out eventually. We can’t keep it a secret forever,” you said.

“Eventually.” Her lips pressed to the back of your hand again, “but for now I want to keep you all to myself.”

The thought was pleasing. You held her gaze for a long moment, the weight of it all crashing into you. Your heart thumped in your chest, tripping over itself. You saw possibilities sparkling in her eyes, and the potential future you could build spiralling out before you.

“Who from the cup of amorous delight/dashes the sparkling draught of brilliant delight,” you murmured before taking a sip from your glass of wine. The way she looked at you was like you were something from out of space, beautiful and wonderful and completely unknowable. It was a heady mix.

She didn’t let you return home all weekend.

You slipped back into the monotony of your work come Monday, working through what you should have done on the weekend. It had been easy to forget the stack of papers you had to mark when her mouth was on you and you were gasping her name. It should have scared you, how easy it was to lose yourself in her, but you’d known the first time you’d seen her that she could render you into nothing. You welcomed it.

On Wednesday morning, when a note was sitting on your desk, you rolled your eyes. Curt, to the point, three words that gave you all you needed to know. You put it aside, booting up your computer.

Your aunt didn’t bother standing as you slid into the chair across from her. The food in front of you was what you’d always ordered, your favourite thing on the menu. Especially when she was buying.

“You summoned?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried you’d gotten yourself into trouble,” she said.

“I don’t remember you being my parol officer,” you said, taking a bite of your lunch.

“Nothing you feel the need to tell me?” she asked.

“How about you just tell me what’s on your mind and then I can tell you. Or not, depending what it is,” you said with a wicked grin and a small shrug.

“You always go to work with a hickey on your neck?” she asked.

“Only if I had fun the night before,” you said, which you had.

“Do I want to know?” she asked.

“Are you asking for details about my sex life, Aunty Liz?” you shot back.

“Please, I’m trying to eat,” she said, indicating her soup.

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” you said, “so why did you really ask me for lunch?”

“It’s my duty to check in on you. If not, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into,” she said.

“Don’t pretend, I know you care. You worry about me.”

She didn’t answer but you knew the truth.

“Are you going to tell me about the girl who’s giving you fun nights?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“Eventually, I’m sure,” you said with a small shrug, knowing you couldn’t tell her, “all you need to know is right now I’m very happy.”

“Clearly.” Her gaze lingered on the hickey you hadn’t bothered covering up that morning, “you know, you’re not the only one who’s coming to work looking less than presentable.”

“You got something to tell me, Aunty Liz?” you poked, trying not to grin at her like a menace. Her beleaguered sigh only made your grin grow.

“ADA Novak has worn the same outfit twice in a row more than once over the last few weeks. Right around the time you stopped calling me incessantly,” she said.

“Lucky girl,” you said.

“And you know nothing about it?” she asked.

“I made you a promise,” you said.

“So it’s just a coincidence?” Her penetrating gaze made you shift in your seat. You’d never been good at lying to her.

“Seems like it.” You looked down at your food, “it’s not a shock two hot women happen to both be getting laid.”

“Okay, you can stop.”

“Good because neither of us is enjoying this,” you said.

She was more than happy to drop the topic. You moved on to much nicer things, like work and how your mother was repainting her kitchen much to your father’s annoyance. She had strong opinions on your sister’s latest boyfriend. You did too.

It was easier when you weren’t talking about Casey.

You started being more careful. You kept the hickeys to places you couldn’t see with your clothes on. She left early enough to get home or brought a change of clothes with her. And you made sure you were never seen anywhere your aunt might be.

Mostly, you spent time in her apartment, curled up in the bubble of the whole thing. You couldn’t understand why your aunt had been so against you seeing her. Everything about her was wonderful, and you’d never felt so sure about a decision before.

“Listen to this,” you said, looking over the top of one of the essays you were marking, “‘he made nature a woman because as everyone knows women are weak and they break under the passion of a man’s love.’ Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” she said, “you should hear some of the stuff men say to justify what they do.”

“I couldn’t do your job,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“That’s why I do it, and why you talk about poetry all day,” she said.

“Is that judgement I hear?”

You placed the essay down, crawling towards her on the couch on all fours. She lent back, watching you with the kind of look in her eye that made you want to submit to her. Her legs spread, offering you the perfect place to stop. Your hands on her knees helped you to push up, drawing closer to her.

“Do you think I don’t have a real job?” you asked, “that I’m just a silly artist who contributes nothing to society?”

“You contribute plenty,” she said, one hand gently cupping your jaw, forcing you to look up at her.

“Do I?” you asked.

“Keeping me happy makes me better at my job. You do your part in putting away all the bad guys,” she said, slow to lean towards you.

“Better make sure you’re on top form tomorrow then, hadn’t I?”

Your marking could wait.

Casey let you stay at her place when your heating went out in the middle of winter break. Curled up in her bed, book in hand, half sprawled against the headboard, you let the hours pass. The door opened and closed again. Looking up, your eyes itched and you realised it had gotten later than you’d expected.

“Hey,” you said when Casey appeared in the doorway.

She looked exhausted, the slope of her shoulders, her heavy footsteps. Your heart ached for her. Her fingers weren’t careful as she unbuttoned her blouse, dropping her slacks to the floor. You still stared every time you saw her naked body, not quite believing you were allowed to see it. She was so beautiful.

She wiggled under the covers, depositing herself on top of you. Her arms curled around your waist, cold hands pressing to your skin as the buried under your sweater. Her face was buried in your neck. With your free hand you stroked a long line down her spine before curling your arm around her waist, feeling her let out a long sigh.

“Long day?” you murmured, lips brushing against her temple.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, muffled against your neck, arms tightening around you.

“Okay,” you said

In a soft voice, you began reading your book out loud to her until her breathing began to even out. It took a while, her muscles slow to relax. You would read to her all night if it would help, whatever she needed. When she finally dropped off, you gazed down at her, finding yourself enraptured. This was the kind of moment you made sure was burned into your memory.

You ignored the way she made you feel. You pushed away the thought that you were falling for this woman. Even as you knew it was true.

The wolf whistle that passed through your lips was loud. You grinned when Casey’s steps faltered, her eyes seeking you out. She sauntered towards you, an extra swing to her hips when she found you. Leaning back against the pillar you’d been waiting against, you watched her, not even bothering to hide your appreciation.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” she said, coming to a stop in front of you.

“I had to drop something off with my aunt. Thought I’d sneak a glimpse when I got the chance,” you said.

“And?” Her head tilted to the side, crowding you against the pillar without touching you.

“And I think you’re something amazing,” you replied.

Her free hand reached out, fingers tangling with yours.

“Bit risky doing this when your aunt is just inside,” she said.

“She’s stuck in court for the next little while,” you said, “plus, it’s been months and she hasn’t brought it up again. I think we’re in the clear.”

“Lucky us,” she said.

“So can I take you to lunch?” you asked.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I care,” you replied, then decided to pull out the big guns, “a poet could not but be gay/in such jocund company.”

Your fingertips brushed over her cheekbone.

“Fine, but you’re paying,” she said.

You took it as a win.

You gasped for breath, falling forward onto your elbows. The only sound was the slap of skin and your breathless moans. Casey’s hands were tight on your hips, leaving bruises on your skin. You pressed your hips back, your whines asking for more.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Casey asked, dragging her strap out of you.

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say.

“Perfect little toy for my cock,” she said, slamming back into you.

You cried out as she hit that place inside of you that made you see heaven. Her name was nothing but a prayer on your lips.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” she said, “God made you just for me to fuck.”

Her thrusts became rougher, harder, making you see stars. You were so close, feeling the wave about to crash into you. Your entire body was a live wire, every thrust making your head spin.

A loud banging on your door had Casey freezing.

“Ignore it. Whoever it is will go away,” you said, breathless and desperate.

She waited a moment for the knocking to stop before she slowly retracted from you before slowly pushing back in. Your whimper was pathetic, making her chuckle as she readjusted her hold on you.

The banging started on your door again.

Casey sighed, pulling full out of you. You growled, turning, the liquid heat in your veins calling out for more. The throbbing was unbearable. You’d been so close.

“Go handle that, sweetheart,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “then I’ll take care of you.”

You grumbled as you rose onto unsteady legs. Wrapping your robe around your naked body, you did your best to stride towards the door. Pulling it open, you were brought up short at the woman on the other side.

“Don’t tell me you were still in bed,” your aunt said.

“Okay. I won’t tell you,” you replied.

You glanced back over your shoulder, clutching your robe tighter around you.

“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, her expectant look making you freeze.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Aunty Liz. I’m not exactly set up for company,” you replied.

“Or at least not company you have to be dressed for,” she said.

“What are you doing here?”

She pushed past you into your apartment. You were slow to close the door, hoping she’d leave, still feeling the slickness between your thighs begging you to go back to Casey and finish what you’d started. Her eyes slowly took in your place, lingering on the two cups of coffee on your counter.

“Am I finally going to meet your mystery woman?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“No,” you said, “did you need something or were just hoping to cock block me?”

“You’ve been dodging your mother’s calls. Call her back so she stops bugging me,” she said.

“Sorry. She just won’t shut up about redoing the living room and there’s only so long I can discuss the merits of eggshell vs seashell,” you said, running your fingers through your messy hair.

“Just call her,” she said, “I’d like not to repeat this experience.”

“That makes two of us,” you muttered.

The bedroom door was pulled open and your heart stopped in your chest. Both you and your aunt were slow to turn to the figure that had frozen in the doorway. Casey, wrapped in a sheet, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide, was staring back.

“Uh… it’s not what it looks like?” you tried when you got your voice back.

The look she gave you was withering. You shrunk under it, knowing the game was up. There was no talking your way out of this. Her jaw clenched and the tension in her body was enough to snap.

“I believe you gave me a promise,” she said, voice cold enough to give you hypothermia.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice shrinking under her glare, “it just kind of… happened.”

“And when I asked you about it, you lied right to my face,” she said.

“What was I meant to do? You were so determined I should have nothing to do with her. An opinion I don’t understand and certainly don’t share,” you said, knowing you were sounding like the petulant teenager who had been dumped on her all those years ago.

“You don’t have to share my opinion but you gave me your word,” she said.

“Don’t blame her,” Casey said, finally stepping into the room properly, “I started this.”

“You also gave me your word,” she said, turning on her, eyes flashing dangerously.

“That’d ridiculous. You can have a say in my personal life but one of your ADAs? Seriously, Aunt Liz?” you demanded, “that’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.”

“Don’t start,” she snapped.

“It’s fine,” Casey said to you.

“No. It’s totally an infringement on your rights. She can’t ask that of you,” you said.

“Sweetheart, she didn’t ask me as my boss,” she said.

“Fine, then I’ll be angry about it on my behalf. You can ask me but not other people,” you said, rounding on your aunt.

“Did you ever think that maybe I had good reason for telling you to stay away from her?” your aunt asked.

“So why did you?” you asked.

Her eyes flicked to Casey who was looking between the two of you like she was desperate to leave this situation. You shook your head, turning away from her.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and unfortunately for you we’re happy together. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said, gesturing back towards the door, “I’ll talk to Mom.”

You didn’t bother looking at her as she left your apartment, the door loud in the silence left in her wake. Your stomach was unsettled, a toxic mix of anxiety and anger, and all you could do was stare at Casey. The color had drained from her face and there was nothing you could do.

“Kind of a mood killer, huh?” you said, hoping to break the tension.

“I should probably go,” she said before disappearing back into your bedroom.

“What? No.” You followed her, “you don’t have to. We don’t have to let her ruin our weekend.”

She didn’t look at you as she dragged her clothes back onto her body. A chill went over you, leaving you off balance and unsure. All you could do was watch as she put herself back together.

“I’ll call you,” she said, hand gently cupping your chin as she kissed your cheek.

The door slammed shut behind her and you fell back onto your mattress, the first tear falling. You’d known it was going to be awful when Liz found out, but you hadn’t thought Casey would be sent running. You’d stupidly assumed her feelings were strong enough to take the hit of your aunt’s disappointment.

She never called.

You kept to yourself for a few weeks, waiting, hoping she’d come back. Any time you called her it went to voicemail and she never called back. You stayed home, ordering takeout you didn’t want and left mostly uneaten. You curled up on the couch, stumbling through the days, wondering what you’d done wrong. Because you must have done something wrong for her to disappear from your life like that.

It took a lot of pride for you to drag your overwrought body over to your aunt’s. It was late enough you thought she’d be at home, but your knocks went unanswered. Sinking down onto her front steps, you lent against the ice cold metal of the handrail debating letting yourself freeze to it. It would be easier than continuing on in the hole you’d found yourself in.

“You make a sad sight.”

You blinked up at the woman towering over you. With a sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet, using the handrail to hold yourself up. Your aunt considered you for a moment before pushing past you to unlock her front door.

“You’d better come in,” she said, “can’t have you freezing to death out here.”

You trudged after her, letting yourself be enveloped in the familiar home you’d spent so many hours in. Her steady hand on your shoulder pushed you down onto her couch, disappearing out the back into where you knew the kitchen was.

A warm mug was placed in you hands, painful against your frozen fingers. You sighed, staring down into the steaming tea, the same brand she’d been stocking for you since you started sleeping over when life got too much for you.

“I sense I’m going to regret this, but do you want to talk?” she asked, lowering into the leather armchair that felt synonymous with her.

“Why didn’t you want me to pursue Casey?” you asked.

You’d been wrong. Your aunt always had a reason for asking things of you and she’d yet to be wrong. This was all your fault by not listening to her. So you had to know why she’d been so adamant this time.

“What’s happened?” she asked in return.

“I haven’t heard from her since you found out. She won’t take my calls. She won’t come see me. So I guess it’s over. I should have listened to you,” you said, staring down into your mug of tea. You took a slow sip. It was the same thing that had been going through your head for days now.

“Yes, you should have.” Your head snapped up to her.

“You knew this would happen?” you asked.

“I knew Casey Novak is a heartbreaker. She’s beautiful and smart and passionate. Makes her a damn good ADA. But the moment I saw the way she was looking at you I knew she was interested. And the way you looked at her said you were too,” she said, “you’ve never been able to lie to me.”

“So why did you tell me to stay away from her?” you asked.

“I think you forget I know you. She’s the exact kind of woman you’d destroy yourself for. I didn’t want to see you get your heart broken,” she said and you were surprised by how soft she could make her voice.

“So it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to distract your best prosecutor?” you asked.

“Distract her. Break her heart. I don’t care. It’s your heart I was trying to protect,” she replied.

“So much for that.” You slumped back, staring into your mug like it held all the answers, “I really fell for her.”

“I know you did,” she said.

“When you brought her up over lunch all those months ago…?” you asked, finally looking up at her again, realising what she’d said about lying.

“I knew you were lying to me. Foolishly, I thought it would lose its charm if I stop telling you what to do. I should have known better,” she said.

“I really thought she was falling for me too.”

And then the tears came. Your Aunt Liz had never been a cuddler, but the squeeze of her arm around you and her steady shoulder beneath your head was exactly what you needed. She let you cry until there were no more tears and then sent you upstairs to bed.

By the morning you felt a smidge better. Less pathetic at least. You stayed the weekend with her, reverting back to your teenage self, letting someone else look after you for once. And so you called out sick on Monday and followed her to work.

Her sharp look was all the opinion she was going to give you. After you’d told her your plan the night before she’d made her disapproval clear. But you needed to do it. For your own peace of mind.

Slipping into Casey’s office, you shut the door with a quiet click. Your heart squeezed as she looked up at you. The expression that went over her face would be enough to bring the tears on again if you hadn’t done your best to harden yourself to her. But there were dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she hadn’t slept since you’d last seen her.

“Hi,” you said, leaning back against her door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You never called.”

Green eyes darted away from you, the hands clasped on her desk tightening. You’d grown used to reading her body language and this was not a good sign.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you wanted to end things I wish you’d just told me,” you said, leaving the safety of the door, “I mean, I got the message but it would have been nice if you could have just said something.”

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh.

You stared up at the ceiling, doing your best to keep from exploding your emotions all over her office. You heard the scrape of her chair pushing back. You focused on the light hanging above.

“Hope is a thing with feathers/that perches in the soul/and sings the tune without the words/and never stops at all,” you whispered.

A broken breath passed through parted lips. You inhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to her. Her eyes were swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name, tears welling, threatening to fall. You shook your head, looking down to your fingers, twisting together until you thought they might break under the strain.

“I really thought you liked me,” you said, “enough to handle my aunt’s disapproval. But I guess I was the idiot who fell for someone who didn’t feel the same.”

She stayed silent.

“She finally told me why she didn’t want us to get together. She knew you were going to break my heart. Next time I think about ignoring her advice I’ll come back to this moment,” you said.

She was still staring at you in silence. You shook your head looking away, disappointment welling in you again.

“That’s all I wanted you to know. I’ll leave you alone now.”

You turned to go, your sigh heavy. You should have expected this. She couldn’t even handle having a conversation to end things with you. As if she was going to say anything when you tried to have one. Still, at least you got it off your chest. That was really all you wanted to do. Your hand landed on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

You froze, not used to hearing such desperation in her voice. The ache in your chest only got worse. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t turn the doorknob either, hung between one decision and the next.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and you could just imagine the tear spilling down her cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I wanted to call. I did. But…” You heard her take a deep breath in, “I’m not good when it becomes real.”

“What does that mean?” You turned, surprised at the spike of anger you felt making your heart beat double time.

“It means the last time I let myself fall in love in went badly. He… It’s not important, but I haven’t been able to let myself get that vulnerable again,” she said, looking at you like that explained everything.

“So this was nothing but a bit of fun for you?” you asked, “you never cared about me?”

“No!” Her hands grasped your forearm, the first touch of bare skin you’d had from her in weeks making your head spin, “no. Maybe that’s how it started but no.”

“Then make it make sense, Casey. If it mattered to you then why did you disappear? Why did you do this?” you demanded.

“Because I cared.”

She thrust her fingers into the front of her hair, gripping at the roots. She turned away from you, the anguish clear on her face. It was like a punch to the gut, sending you reeling. Your shoulders slumped, staring at her as she paced. The impulse to reach out and comfort her was still strong. You hated yourself for it.

“Look, I could ignore the way I was falling for you when it was just us. I could lie to myself and say it was just sex. That I didn’t want more. But then Donnelly was there and you were trying to protect me and I knew. I knew I was in love with you,” she said and you felt your heart break right there in her office.

“You were a coward,” you said, and it wasn’t nice but it was true.

“I was,” she agreed, “I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“You said you’d never let me go,” you said.

“A good line I thought would make you smile,” she said, shaking her head, “I didn’t expect you to actually want it.”

“Do you still love me?” you asked.

“What?” Her brow furrowed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” you asked.

“Does it matter?” she asked in return.

“Just answer the damn question.” You hadn’t expected to get angry but she jumped as you raised your voice.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Good.”

Your hands landed on her hips, forcing her back against her desk. Her lips parted and a flush bloomed over her cheeks. Pushing up onto your toes, your lips ghosted over hers.

“That I did always love/I bring thee proof,” you murmured.

You kissed her then and her whimper was music to your ears. Her arms came up around you, hands pressing between your shoulder blades, keeping you pressed against her. Your tongue swept into her mouth, needing this more than you’d realised. You’d thought this was the end. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest and you felt giddy as you kissed her deeper. You couldn’t get close enough to her.

She drew back, breath heaving, eyes still closed. You ran your fingertips along her lower lip. She pressed a kiss to them before her eyes slowly blinked open.

“I know you’re scared, and I know you think you’re not good at this, but I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, ADA Casey Novak,” you said.

“Just Casey,” she whispered, voice breaking, a tear slipping free.

You wiped it away, then the next and the one after that.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” you said, sliding your fingers into her hair, “but lucky for you I’m pigheaded and I’m used to getting what I want. Sound familiar?”

Her chuckle was wet but she pinched your side until you laughed too. She lent forward, forehead pressing to yours. Your hands slid around to interlock at the small of her back.

“So will you pick up when I call you tonight?” you asked.

“I’ll do you one better.” She cupped both your cheeks, tipping your face up towards her, “I’ll give you my spare key and you can be waiting for me when I get home.”

You kissed her again, not able to help yourself. Possibilities tasted so much better when they were coming true.

[notdotspot]

Dp x DC Constantine

Masterpost

Tim, shockingly, began to settle into his new routine—Wayne Enterprise meetings in the morning, online classes after lunch, working on the ghost portal and filter with Danny after dinner, a quick patrol, and then a decent night's sleep.

Danny makes it hard for him to protest going to sleep, and his sleep recently has been so relaxed and dreamless too. Tim is not sure if it is the effect of the routine or Danny. With the purifier finished, he has been allowed to help with the Ghost Portal. Despite the secrets around the ectoplasm and mechanisms, he does good work on the wiring. He is currently inside the tunnel that makes up the portal connection pieces of machinery to the main framework. He keeps catching Danny’s nervous glances at him as he works.

“If you do not want me to work on the portal, I can leave you to it.” Danny seems taken off guard. “You keep looking at me like I might fuck up any second or like I am taking notes on how to build my own.”

“It is not that,” Danny admits. “I am just worried anytime someone nears the portal. In my experience, it is more dangerous now than when it is fully operational.”

“How do you mean?” Tim finishes the wiring and snaps the piece into the structure.

“When it is on, it is almost predictable. I know that if an unfriendly ghost were to come through, I could handle it. Like this,” Danny waves his arm at the unfinished portal, “there is no telling how it functions if there is an accident.”

“I am done with the work anyway so you can relax. Is there anything else I can help with?” Tim places his hand on Danny’s shoulder attempting to comfort him. Danny’s eyes flick back and forth between Tim’s and the hand resting on him. He realizes he might have crossed the line with physical contact and jerks his hand back, missing the longing look on the other’s face.

“Actually, I might just turn in for the night. I have a long patrol tomorrow night.”

“If you want to stay an hour longer, we are doing the first test runs tonight. Bruce said the magic user would be arriving.” Danny spits out the words like he could barely hold them in but still had to force himself to say them. They hold eye contact for a moment too long and Tim is lost for words to respond. He simply nods as their eyes stay glued. Danny breaks the stare as his eyes turn to the other cave entrance. Red Hood and Robin are riding in on Jason’s motorcycle. The Batmobile is not far behind with Bruce, Dick, Steph, and Cass.

“Bruce said we are turning it on tonight. Too bad Duke is a daytime hero and sleeps through all the fun.” Jason says walking up to the portal to inspect it curiously.

“Phantom,” Damian greets cordially.

“Hey, Danny,” Dick and Steph chorus. Cass pulls off her mask, waving to Danny.

Bruce checks the Batcomputer, quickly typing something in.

The voice of the Batcomputer which Danny rarely hears, “Zeta tube access granted. A-fifty-eight, John Constantine.”

A yellow glow emits from the Zeta tube and Constantine saunters out, smoking a cigarette. Bruce steps forward.

“Constantine, this is Danny.” Constantine’s eyes glide over the group stopping just next to Tim, on Danny. His head tilts slightly as he takes a few steps closer to examine Danny. His eyes squint like he is trying to figure out what he is seeing.

“Here,” Danny states. A white ring forms around the center of his body, splitting into two and traveling in opposite directions toward his head and feet. The rings reveal his familiar form of Phantom. Tim, along with the rest of the Bats, stare in subtle awe. They had never gotten to see his transformation. Tim did not have time to linger on his new thoughts before Constantine throws his cigarette to the ground. He smashes it under his boot, to the dismay of Bruce, and bows his head frantically.

“I am terribly sorry, Your Majesty. I did not recognize you.” He glances up at Danny in concern. Tim finally has the sense to observe Danny’s face. His eyes are scrunched up as he cringes, mouthing curse words. He can see the microreaction on Bruce’s face from the corner of his vision.

“John, this is not royal business. No need for titles. If I would have known this was your dimension I would have called you myself.” Constantine seemed to sign in relief and relax. It was such a shock to see someone so nonchalant be shocked into manners. Tim could not hold his curiosity.

“Your Majesty? Royal business?”

“Can a man not have one secret?” Danny questions, though his words seemed more directed at the air around them than anyone in the room.

“Yes. Secrets out.” A new set of rings transforms him again. This time he has a cape lined with flickering green flames and a floating crown atop his head. His skin seems slightly more transparent and the whites of his eyes fill entirely with a glowing green. The space around them drops in temperature. This. This is the Danny he saw in his dream. A memory that seems so distant and skewed after spending time with the other teen.

“Hello, Danny Fenton better known as Phantom, The Ghost King, Protector of the Infi-Map, Champion of the Ancients, and Ruler of the Infinite Realms.” Every word he pushes out is punctuated with his annoyance over the identity reveal. The room freezes with tension. Danny signs and transforms back into his normal Phantom look. “Can we turn this on or what?”

With that, the whole room resets to the task. Tim, for once, had the sense to hold his tongue about Danny’s newly divulged information.

Danny ushered everyone behind a tapped-off line.

“John, protection, if you would not mind.” He nods at the directions and speaks a forcefield into existence around himself and the Bats. Danny approaches the control panel inside the tunnel first pressing a button, then exiting and flipping a final switch. A bright light nearly blinds the group, but as Tim blinks opens his eyes to see a green swirling portal.

“That went surprisingly well.” Danny turns to them as Constantine lets down the spell. His shoulders seemed to lower has tension bleeds from his shoulders. It was Danny’s only sign of relief. Tim can only guess it is from the lack of mishap.

“No one steps in. I will know if you do.” They nod and Tim walks over to Danny.

“So what now?” Danny speaks to him as he watches Constantine start to chant different spells over the portal.

“We complete the mission.”

“That is not what I am talking about and you know it.” Tim staring at the side of his face. Even with all of Bruce’s training, he still can not read the expressions on Danny’s face.

“I go back to my civilian life. Finish my degree. Go back to the realms for another couple hundred years. Rule like I am supposed to.” Danny’s voice seemed resigned as he spoke. Tim wanted to say something. Anything. Anything that would help Danny or comfort him. Constantine waves Danny over to the portal for help so Tim does not have the chance to get in another word. He is grasping just how out of reach he is here. This is an immortal, all-powerful being and Tim is just Tim. What can he do to help someone who has faced more than he even knew existed?

“Hey, Tim. Coming upstairs? We are turning in for the night.” Tim considers Danny and Constantine, who are speaking in hushed voices about the portal and spells. Even Bruce is heading up.

“Nah, I am going to wait a little longer. Just to see if they need any more technical help.” They say their goodnights as they pile into the elevator. Tim makes himself comfortable in the Batcomputer chair and watches the two mystics work.

He did not even notice he had fallen asleep until Danny was rocking him awake.

“You are going to be sore later if you sleep like that the whole night,” Danny’s soft voice is something new to Tim and threatens to put him right back to sleep. It stirs up warm that seeps into is very being.

“No, no, no. Bed.” Danny pulls at his arms, and hoists him easily from the chair. Tim flops into his arms half asleep but Danny has no issue keeping him from falling. The physical contact shocks Tim awake and has him stepping away, dipping his face to hide his blush. He leans to the side to look past Danny at the portal. It is off but there are symbols and sigils sketched around it.

“I will take you to your room. Come on.” Danny guides him with a gentle hand on the small of his back. They board the elevator together. Danny has not realized Tim’s alertness so he takes the opportunity to lazily lay his head on Danny’s shoulder as they ascend. He leans into his tiredness because he can not get enough of Danny’s physical contact. He should be embarrassed at the faking, but maybe he is tired enough to lose his inhibitions. Letting Danny lead him to his room and help him into the bed is simple, but Tim has to withhold from reaching back out when Danny pulls away. Danny, looking into his eyes for the first time since they finished the portal, seems to see something. They are stuck staring again until Danny smiles nervously and leaves the room.

Before shutting the door he whispers, “Goodnight, Tim,” into the darkness.

---------

Please excuse my lateness. I got caught up studying for an exam

Thanks for reading!

[captainlondonman]

Boss Skin

The boss told me to go and look for Mike in the other department as I would be working alongside him for the next few weeks. He was a new guy in the company and I hadn’t yet seen him. I walked into his office and liked what I saw. He was over 6 foot stocky built, more like a scrum half, in suit, white shirt and tie. His had a number one and was clean shaven.

Come in and sit he said. His voice was at once masterful and yet kind. He seemed an easy bloke to get on with. As he stood up to shake my hand, I couldn’t help but try and see if there was a bulge in his trousers, as I could feel my own bulge getting bigger. I could see nothing due to the dark fabric but did not feel disappointed as he firmly shook my hand.

I hope we get on as there’s plenty of work to do over the next few weeks. There won’t be much time for breaks and I hope you don’t mind putting in a few extra hours. May put paid to your social life.

Sure I said, I can manage for a while.

He was right, there wasn’t much time off, but I didn’t mind as the work was interesting and he was there showing interest. A really good bloke.

About 8 one night when I was finishing up Mike suggested we go out for a quick drink which I jumped at. It would be good to be seen with him and get to know him a bit better.

I only live round the corner, why not come back for a drink and I’ll see if there’s anything for a meal.

The flat was pleasant and everything is good order, nothing to indicate how this man lived or what he did in his spare time. As he handed me a beer he said.

So what do you do in your spare time.

Oh, the usual, pubs and clubs, out with my mates, a bit of footie at the weekend.

I had been wanting to ask him a question and thought now, in his home was the best time.

I see you have a number 1. Just wonder why, as I can see you have a really good head of hair and no bald patches.

You noticed did you. Well, this is it long, I usually have it fully shaved, especially for holidays and the weekends.

Why. I said feeling a bit stupid

I think you know, Mike said, when I’m away from the office I’m a skin.

Christ, have you got all the gear, the Rangers, bleachers, braces, Fred Perry…

You seem to know what’s what.

Well, when you see a skinhead, you can’t help but look at them. They command respect and look like real tough blokes.

Too right. When I get home I usually like to get into my skin gear, makes me feel completely different from the nice bloke at work. I feel dominant, rough, and tough and thirsty for real action.

I ain’t surprised, from what I’ve seen of skins.

Why don’t you have another beer, Mike said, I need to go for a crap. Back in a minute.

He went up the hall and I heard the door close. Good God, Mike a skin. I couldn’t believe it. He seemed such a decent bloke at work. I sat there thinking of him in his skin gear and just couldn’t get the picture but just thinking made my cock start to stir. The more I thought the more my cock got erect till it was rigid. It was feeling tight in my underpants, so I leant back in the chair to adjust it and it sprang out in my trousers making a large bulge. It was a good cock and many a mouth had gagged on it. By this time I was feeling really randy and still lying back started to massage my dick in my trousers.

Playing with that fucking dick of yours, I heard a voice suddenly bark out behind me.

I spun round to see a skin in full gear standing in the doorway.

I could scarcely believe that it was Mike. His head was fully shaved and gleaming making him look mean and aggressive. He was wearing 21 hole Ranger boots with red laces, a red Fred Perry tee shirt, black braces, a black mac1 jacket and skin tight bleachers set high into his crotch. He was hung like a bloody donkey. I couldn’t take my eyes of the long bulge tight down his leg and could see his large cut head even in his denim. One arm was stretched up the door frame and I could see a rolled up white sock clenched in his fist. The other hand was on his hip and as I stared at his crotch so his hand moved between his groin to grab his balls and then move down his long shaft. He had to be erect it was so bloody big. 

What are you fucking looking at, Mike hissed. He had changed character and was now a real aggro skin. You said skins commanded respect so its time you gave some. Having a good look at my crotch are you. Well its all my fucking dick, thick and fucking big.

He came over and grabbed me by shirt, pulling me sharply and throwing me against the wall, my head bouncing off it. He was right up in front of my pressing his body against me staring into my face.

Smell this, a real cheesy skin sock, ramming it into my face. As I opened my mouth he thrust the sock in gagging me. I choked but the smell was great. It was really cheesy and I knew Mike had obviously had it on for days. As he pushed up my chin to make me clench the sock. His knee came sharply up into my crotch. It was fucking sore. Mike just smiled.

His knee came up again and started rubbing against my crotch.

You fucking love this, don’t you. That cock of yours is nice and fucking hard. Not a bad piece of meat. You love being done over by a skin. Yeah, respect you said.

He took the sock out, and I gasped for air.

Get down on your knees boy, now, he shouted.

As I sank down with his strong hand forcing me, I was level with the crotch.

You fucking like what you see, Mike said as his hand rubbed his massive dick through the denim. Time you saw what it looks like.

He ripped open the flies and putting his hand way down his bleachers, pulled out his erect dick. It was at least 9 inches and bloody thick with a gleaming head.

I ain’t had a piss for ages and I feel like it now and that mouth of yours is going to be the bog. Got it? 

He took his cock in his hand sliding it up and down the shaft a few times, then moved forward and slapped it against my face.

You fucking like that, dirty boy.

Then standing back he grabbed my head forcing it back.

Open that mouth of yours, I can feel my piss coming, fucking gallons of it and your’e gonna swallow the lot. I said open that mouth piss boy.

I did as I was told and Mike aimed his cock straight at my mouth.

It’s coming boy, its coming.

And with that the pee starting slowly arching into my open mouth. It bloody well stung as it hit the back of my throat with force and I gagged.

Fucking swallow boy.

I couldn’t hold back I had to start swallowing. The pressure of his piss was getting stronger as I started. It stung at first but just seeing that massive cock piss so hard, I wanted to take it all. I gulped and gulped but not quick enough to take the full stream and could feel the piss running down my shirt, soaking the front and down into my trousers. There seemed piss everywhere, down my throat down my shirt, down my trousers until I could feel my underpants wet.

Fucking drink it piss boy he shouted.

 I clutched my cock through the wet trousers rubbing the shaft. The piss was so good and seeing it spraying out of his dick was a turn on, making me so fucking randy.

As the piss stream came to a stop Mike moved forward.

Now you can lick the remaining piss and get my dick down that throat of yours. I want to feel my prick right down the back of your throat so you are gagging with my big cock.

I licked the head tasting the final drops of piss, but he grabbed the back of my head and shoved it right down the length of his cock. I gagged, but feeling his huge piece of meat down my throat was so fucking good.

That’s right let me face fuck you. Take the whole bloody lot, you love dick, that mouth of yours has had a few. Go one suck me, fucking suck me.

He continued grabbing my head and moving it up and down the shaft,his cock going further and further down my throat. His dick was fucking great.

You’re a great sucker, boy. You really love my prick. Christ, I’m gonna cum in a minute, go on suck hard.

 I couldn’t wait any longer. While sucking his cock, I unzipped my trousers and took out my rock hard dick, wet with Mike’s piss and started to wank. The harder I wanked the harder I sucked.

Shit I’m coming, boy, suck that dick, I’m coming, get it down your throat so you can feel my spunk. Yeah, now, shit man.

With that he erupted his load of cum down my throat, he couldn’t stop It went down my throat and out through my mouth running down my chin. It was fucking great. My own cock was ready to cum and while I licked and licked so I came, cum spurting out over the floor.

Lick that spunk boy. Mike’s hand, pushed the spunk on my chin and up into my mouth, poking two finger down the back of my throat. Go on lick my fingers take all my spunk. I licked the fingers dry.

Well that’s made a mess of you. All your office gear covered in my piss eh. Better get out of it and into something else. I haven’t finished yet. 

He yanked my shirt off, pulled me up and slid my trousers down. I was standing naked in front of him.

Not a bad body you’ve got there, good sized fat dick too. It would look a hell of a lot better in some other gear. I’ve set it out in the bedroom, so go and put it on and get back here quick then I’ll finish your clothing off with something else I’ve got.

I walked in his bedroom and lying neatly on the bed was full skin gear. It was what I’d always wanted. I’d seen all these skins and always wanted to look like one but never had the courage. Now Mike was letting me be what I really wanted. I put on the black Fred Perry, it was a perfect fit really tight to my chest, then the long white socks, then the bleachers. As I put them on I saw there was a good size hole in the seam at the arse. Fucking great I thought. Red braces and then 21 hole brown DMs. It was as if they were made for me. The bleachers were tight and I could feel with the braces, the seam tight in the crotch under my balls. My balls and stiffening cock were forced down the leg, making a large packet. Not as big as Mike’s but you could see very inch clearly pushing out from the tight denim. Shit this felt bloody fantastic even with short hair and no skinhead.

Get through here, Mike shouted, I told you we hadn’t finished.

I walked through.

That’s fucking better. Christ you also think so judging by that cock of yours. But you ain’t a true skin with that hair of yours. No, I ain’t shaving it off but you’ll wear this. He took out a full leather hood. 

Bend your head down, I don’t want to see a bloke in skin gear with hair so get this on. He opened the laces at the back and brought the hood over my face. It had eyelets, and opening for the mouth. I could smell the strong odour of leather up my nostrils as he tightened the laces at the back.

I’m gonna make this nice and tight so its part of your skin and you can breathe the leather.

Right head up, that’s better you look like a skin with a hood, and look fucking good. Stand up straight and spread your legs apart.

As did as commanded Mike put on a tight pair of black rubber gloves.

You’ll fucking love this boy.

He stood in front of me and with one rubbered glove hand grabbed my shoulders and with the other he moved round my back to my arse. Suddenly I felt the rubber against my warm flesh, the hole in the jeans. His finger found my hole and I felt a finger pushing its way moving around inside, the rubber was good.

You like that don’t you boy. That’s right stick that nice arse of yours out and turn round. Bend down but keep those legs apart. I suddenly winced as a second finger went in pushing up high and making my cock spring to action. Christ I loved it. Then the third finger pushing back my crack making it larger. Smell that, I took in a deep inhale and felt the smell of poppers mixed with leather right up my nose. My arse relaxed, I wanted more.

Get another finger up there please.

Don’t worry you’ll get the whole fucking fist. That arse of yours I want opened right up so you can take my cock. You see it’s big and I want you to feel it going the whole fucking way up.  

I felt the 4th finger go and my arse opening expanding. The finger moved around inside my arse the rubber against my skin felt great. My cock was straining inside my denims, my balls wanted to explode as I kept thrusting my arse out into his fist.  Mike’s other hand came round my waist and felt my bulging pouch, giving it a good rub.

You fucking love this, my rubber fingers up your arse and that hood on breathing in the leather. That cock of yours is fucking hard. You love this hand inside these bleachers, up your arse and still is full skin kit.

He wasn’t joking, it was fucking great.

He started to take his fingers out one by one leaving my arse feeling empty and then he stuck the rubbered hand at my nostrils, smearing it across the hood.

Like the smell of your arse boy, go on breathe it in. Bet you like that mix of arse and leather. Its time you had my cock up that arse. I want you to see me fucking you in your kit. See two skins locked together me with that big dick right up your arse. 

He shoved me to the bedroom in front of a full height mirror.

Face that boy, see yourself in skin kit with that leather hood on. Christ you look like a good fucking skin boy. That cock of yours is rock hard. Look at the fucking bulge its making in your bleachers.

He stood behind me and I could sense him taking out his dick. He spit into his hands and started rubbing it over his prick. 

You don’t need gel now, boy, a bit of spit is all as that arse of yours is wide open and ready.

He squeezed my bum then with one hand sharply pushed my head bending me over. His hand came down hard on my arse, not once or twice but several times each time giving a searing pain then he would squeeze the cheeks.

That’ll warm you up boy.

Again he spat gob onto his cock and rubbed it in.

Right boy arch that arse out, I’m ready, and with that I could feel his cock at the ripped hole in my bleachers, seeking out my arsehole. He found the crack quickly.

With all his hand work on my arse, the hole was ready. I moved my arse back and felt his massive dick sliding up. It was ripping my hole with its width but my arse wanted it and I edged back so it slid right up to the hilt. It felt great. I looked in the mirror and could see my skin clad body pinned to Mike, him standing behind me tight against my body looking totally in control, his helmet of a head against my leather hood, our booted legs together. He started to move back and I could feel his dick sliding back out almost to the tip then he rammed it back with full force. Shit, I loved it. His hands came round my chest and while pulling me even closer to him, he started to work on my tits, not massaging but nipping and pulling. It hurt but the more he pulled at my tits the bigger the nipples swelled and the more I wanted. I started moving my arse up and down his shaft taking in the full length. I wanted to be fucked and fucked while he worked my tits. Two skins together, one being fucked senseless by the other and being fucked in full gear.

You fucking love sliding up and down on my fat dick don’t you skin boy. That’s right take the whole fucking dick up that arse of yours. You love being fucked rigid don’t you. My prick right up in your skin gear through that hole in your bleachers. Go on look at us me with my huge cock thrusting it up that arse of yours, my hands working on those tits, your hooded head thrust back is pain and loving every fucking second. Take this cock skin boy, fucking ride it.

I felt it right up to the top almost splitting me but I wanted more forcing my arse tight back against his cock, my hands round his hips pushing him further and further into me.

Fuck me you skin, let me have that fucking big cock of yours, yeah fuck me hard skin man. Squeeze my tits harder, let me feel the pain while you ride me. I wanna be a fucking skin. Give to me.

I could see myself in the mirror, Mike’s hands on my tits, me thrusting up and down his shaft, my cock fucking stiff and bulging against my bleachers, it looked huge and there was a precum stain filling out on the denim. My balls were aching with the cum wanting to get out.

Fuck me you skin, fuck me hard, I yelled, I’m ready to cum you filthy skin, ram your dick home and spurt your cum right up my arse.

That’s right boy, talk like a skin, take this and this, my cock up you, skin boy, I’m ready you fucking skin, you gonna get all my spunk up now. Yeah, yeah,

And with that he exploded his cum up my arse, the arms round my waist forcing me even closer to him pummelling my arse with his dick. I could feel his spunk surging up my arse warm and wet. Christ it was fucking fantastic. As he gave a final thrust, I felt my cock erupt in my bleachers, my spunk running down the inside leg. It felt like gallons pouring inside the denim and I could see the cum stain getting bigger and bigger spreading out down and across, down to the top of my DMs, spunk seeping through the denim, my cock pulsating with cum, the huge bulge down my leg now fully covered in spunk.

The next day when I went into work I reported to Mike.

Had a good night, he asked

Yeah great, I replied.

Well I’ve spoken to the boss and asked that you work for me full time now and the first thing you can do is get out at lunchtime and get your hair cropped to at least a number 1. Better for after work.

[salternateunreality2]

AGSZC Deep Cleaning the Biohazard that is Zack’s Apartment

From the @strayheartless vault <3

—

Zack: It’s not a biohazard, that would mean nothing’s living there, and look, my pets are fine! *opens a drawer with a new litter of mice in it*

Genesis: AAAAAAA! Ahem. I mean to say: Zachariah McKinley Fair, a biohazard means it is unsafe for humans, and often involves dangerous non-human organisms. SUCH AS WILD MICE.

Zack: They’re not wild, they’re my fri-

Genesis: Zachariah. If you finish that word, I will firaga them immediately.

Zack: NO! *Hides the mice with his body*

—-

After Genesis’ 5th childish scream, Angeal’s 3rd round of dry-heaving, and Sephiroth and Cloud being found twitching near the entrance, Zack concedes that maybe he has some work to do.

—

Cloud decides to body-double for Zack by riding him like a backpack.

Zack: Maybe this sock is salvageable!

Koala Cloud: Nope, put it in the bag.

Zack: But I wanna- 

Cloud: IN THE BAG, FAIR.

—

Sephiroth is in full-coverage PPE to protect his hair and senses, and is excavating the fridge with gloves. 

Zack: But my pasta is in that tub of whipped cream! 

Angeal, working at the sink and dry-heaving: I MADE THAT FOR YOU LAST MONTH.

—

They have to set up a rotating schedule of visiting Zack's apartment so he's motivated to clean everything at least weekly, but Zack is really grateful.

He never means for it to get this bad, it’s just…he makes friends with the critters! And, well, sometimes he forgets things. And…and sometimes he just gets overwhelmed. He looks at the pile of dishes and knows he can’t do them all today, so he doesn’t do any.

Or he tries. He starts by picking up the dishes in his bedroom, but trips over a shirt along the way. He sets the dishes down to take the shirt to the laundry, but his eyes catch on the dusty blinds, so obviously he has to clean them, but then he looks up and it’s 3 hours later and he’s dismantled the whole window dressing and is cleaning the grooves with a q-tip and everything is worse than when he started.

Zack breaks down trying to explain it, and Genesis is the first to tell him he understands. Genesis and Angeal sandwich him between themselves while Sephiroth puts a hand on Zack’s shoulder and Cloud starts worming his way into Zack’s arms.

—

Zack cleans for each of them all the time, but for some reason, he can’t understand why they’d help him too.

It surprises him when Angeal comes over and just. Does all his dishes. Or when Genesis comes over and "purifies this hellhole of a bathroom" (gives it a decent clean and fills it with good soaps/battery operated candles/fresh towels). Or when Cloud obsessively sorts and folds his laundry, or when Sephiroth puts everything through the wash when he's working from home one day.

Zack doesn't GET that he's done the exact same things for them, like the time he scoured Angeal's pots for half a day, or polished every metallic surface in Sephiroth's apartment, or dusted Genesis' place so thoroughly it gleamed, or put fresh sheets on Cloud's bed, bundled him up, and did all his laundry while he was dissociating.

He doesn't realize the insurmountable task of addressing The Chair is easy for Angeal (it all goes in the wash. It's all dirty enough.), but the same man finds throwing out socks with holes hard (but acceptable when Zack does it for him).

Zack forgets that he folded all of Gen's towels into swans when Gen’s parents were coming into town and is blown away when Gen leaves a simply folded towel on the rack.

He thinks the work he puts into adding color to Sephiroth’s spartan apartment is nothing, not realizing Sephiroth’s heart is warmed by each and every little splash Zack sneaks in.

Zack doesn’t realize that Cloud would rather do all of Zack’s mopping than address the sensory hell that is washing monster gunk off his own boots, which Zack does for him often.

[reds-writings]

the first of many and the start of something new

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: heyyy! another fic in the jealousy, jealousy universe! this is based on the mention of when the reader's left without a car after an accident and rust offers her a lift for the time being. just some more background building between the two and giddy feelings! hope you enjoy!

word count: around 2.8k

warnings: a smidgen of workplace sexism and mentions of reader having longer hair. that and cursing.

Today had been one shit day. Shittiest of shit days you’ve had the displeasure of encountering in a while actually. The power had gone out sometime in the night from some short burst of a storm so your alarm clock had gotten reset, resulting in you waking up nearly an hour later than your usual start time. It also meant that the dryer hadn’t finished drying all your work clothes for the week ahead leaving you to throw on whatever attire you had on the day before from your hamper that was decently wrinkled come this morning. The best you could do for your messy tresses was throw it up haphazardly into a banana clip you rummaged for in one of your bathroom drawers. You barely managed to slap on some blush to look a bit more lively and wipe any remnants of caked mascara from beneath your eyes you hadn’t bothered taking off last night. 

God, you were gonna be so late. 

You managed to keep a clean attendance record at work, rarely allowing yourself the opportunity to slip-up knowing you’d get chewed out more than anyone else by Quesada just cause. Yanking on your work boots and grabbing some of your gear you nearly managed to eat shit on the way out, not bothering to grab a bite to eat or even scrounge up some coffee. You prayed today was one of those days where Rust carried out his ‘secret’ routine of setting out your coffee before you’d show up to work. Your weathered bronco was low on gas but you’d have just enough to make it to work and hopefully back to whatever gas station nearby on the way home. Peeling out of the driveway like a bat out of hell and settling yourself on the main road your eyes kept flying nervously to the dashboard’s clock. Each ticking minute caused the buzzing anxiety in your gut to sink deeper and deeper. 

You checked your frazzled appearance in the rear-view mirror, failing to notice the intersection coming up ahead. Your heart just about leaped into the next state over when you barely managed the time to notice the rapidly closing gap between you and the car stopped in front of you. Slamming on your brakes, your car tires squealed to a stop and your front bumper found itself barely a hairsbreadth away from ramming into the vehicle ahead. Your relief was short-lived when the car behind you, unfortunately, didn’t have enough leeway to break at your sudden halt and collided with your car, causing you then to bump the car in front of you. The force of it had you near-whipping forward like a ragdoll, making you bump your head on the steering wheel. The separate trilling of respective car horns only added to your steady-growing headache. 

You could just about cry. 

By the time you actually made it the department after the mess that was trading insurances and getting your car towed to whatever repair shop that was in close proximity to the area of the accident you looked like you’d been dragged to hell and back. On top of taking one of the worst bus rides of your life, someone managed to spill their coffee across your lap at a harsh stop. The defeat weighing on your poor bones was apparent to everyone on the floor that took in the sorry state of your figure. You mustered up a mumbled greeting to the receptionist, feet dragging their way towards your desk. The small bruise on your brow throbbed increasingly, especially when that prick Geraci decided he’d make a snide pass at you as you trudged in.

“You’re gonna give folks around here a mean fright walkin’ around lookin’ like that, girl.” 

“Do me a favor and go dine on some dick, Geraci.” You snapped without even looking at the now angrily flushing man. Rust and Marty sat in their respective spots, one eyeing you with slight shock and the other with something unreadable as per usual.

“Now just what happened to you, missy?” Marty started in on you as you tossed your stuff down. 

Eyeing the anticipated presence of the daisy mug on your desk, you reached for it to take a sip of your awaiting coffee only to grimace at the realization that it was well cold and stale by now. Price of being late. Before you could grumble out a response your other consequence in the form of Quesada barked out your name to order you into his office. 

You just couldn’t catch a damn break. 

Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly to steady your spiking nerves, you set the mug down harshly before turning on your heel and stalking over to the Major’s office. The door promptly slammed shut behind you both, leaving everyone on the floor frozen for only but a moment before they resumed their individual tasks.

Marty let out a low whistle, shaking his head before turning back to some files, “Guess we should head on out now. She ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.” 

Rust didn’t say a word as he sat fixated on you getting reprimanded to no end by your fuming superior. 

The dusky hues of oranges and violets had long since burned in the sky by the time you finished with the deskwork Quesada had relegated to you for being late as well as your snappish attitude aimed at him while he had lectured you. The most grating forty minutes of your life that you’d never have the luxury of getting back. Your spine ached from being hunched over for hours on end and your retinas stung from overused strain. The slow steps of Rust's shoes sounded on the linoleum floors of the department, causing you to glance up and notice that Marty wasn’t by his side. Your gaze flew to the clock to see that it was nearing 7:40, shit, it was time to get going.

You’d have to walk back if there weren’t any other buses in service. Fuck. 

“You done for the day?” Rust rasped out as he fiddled with a cigarette. 

“Just about. Have half the sense to wanna throw these all over Quesada’s office for him to have to organize his damn self but that won’t do me no good after today.” You leaned back to release a few cracks in your vertebrae. 

“Probably not, no.” He eyed your tired form.

“You guys find anything useful today?” You came back forward and got up to collect all your things. Mind busy with hoping and praying there’d still be a bus around this time. 

“Just a whole bout of nothin’. At least for right now that’s what it’s seeming like.” 

“Bummer. Sorry I got held up and couldn’t come with ya.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A pause. Then,

“Your car ain’t out front.” His acute observation caused your shoulders to slump.

“Yeah. Part of the day's neverendin’ woes. Got into one hell of a fender bender.” 

“Reckon that was the causation of that nasty bruise. How’re you gettin’ home?” It came out more as a slight demand than a curious question, making your head snap towards him. Your face was starting to feel hot in embarrassment.

“I was just gonna see if there was a bus or somethin’. Seems Marty rushed on home otherwise I would've wrangled his ass for a ride. I might just have to walk I guess…I dunno.” You shrugged, feeling yourself shrink under his calculating gaze. 

“You ain’t walkin.” 

Rust grabbed his keys and waited for you to finish fixing up your desk. It took you a second too long to realize he was implying you’d be getting a ride from him. The thought of being with him in his truck alone had you feeling all sorts of funny. You’d never really spent time together one-on-one and you were terrified of acting like some bumbling fool in his presence without Marty there to break the ice. 

You wordlessly gathered up the rest of your things and made the move to follow him out of the building. The balmy air did nothing to ease the growing tension you felt in your body. You smiled at him shakily in gratitude as he opened the passenger door for you. Once you’d wobbled your way up into the truck he shut the door then rounded the vehicle to get in on his side. The rumble of the Ford’s engine was the only saving grace of the awkward silence that had settled between you both as he drove the somewhat lengthy distance to your house. 

“Thank you. For drivin’ me. You didn’t really have to.” Your unconfident tone broke the quiet. You cringed slightly at how you sounded. Most people didn’t have you as nervous as he did. Whether that be because of the sheer power he carried with him at all times or the sharpness of his personality you didn’t know.

“It wouldn’t necessarily be wise to have you out walkin’ in the dark for some odd amount of miles. I wouldn’t trust anyone around this wasteland to leave you be.” 

It did feel silly now thinking you’d be able to make it however many miles out by your lonesome. At night no less. You would’ve been a walking target and then some.

“What happened today? You don’t strike me as the…unorganized type.” Rust continued, gaze flitting over you in slight caution. If you had half the mind you’d be plenty self-conscious to be caught looking this unkempt around him. Your raging exhaustion just so happened to save you from the ridiculous notion as you rubbed your bleary eyes. 

“That storm last night had my power go out so my alarm clock was fucked this mornin’. Same is to be said for my dryer that didn’t finish its job with what was supposed to be all my work clothes for the week. Then the accident. Banged up my car pretty good so it’s gotta sit in the shop for God knows how long, they couldn’t give me an estimate. I took the bus then got shit spilled on me. The rest of the sad third act you saw yourself.” 

“Can’t say it wasn’t amusin’ seeing Geraci’s punk ass go bright as a tomato.” His chest vibrated with a dry chuckle and it had you feeling even warmer. 

“I ain’t ever liked him. Ass kissin’ piece of shit. Likes shittin’ on me every chance he gets just like most around there. I could’ve thrown somethin’ at Quesada’s thick ass skull with the way he spoke to me earlier.” You huffed,  

Rust shook his head slightly, “If it’s any consolation he don’t like me much either.” 

“For different reasons. You’re more…prickly- forgive me for sayin’. I bust my ass and I ain’t ever gonna be respected like I should.”

“In a place like this, can’t say that’s much of a promised future.” He didn’t seem to take offense to the ‘prickly’ comment. 

There was another pocket of silence before you sounded again.

“I’m gonna be honest, if it weren’t for your truck parked outside everday I wouldn’t think you were able to drive.” 

His responding look was that of slight incredulity but let you go on anyway, “I’m only sayin’ because anytime you, Marty, and I have to drive out somewhere you never really get behind the wheel. I was convinced you couldn’t operate a vehicle the first month or so in.” You snickered at the ridiculousness of the previous thoughts you'd conjured up involving the man next to you. It was far-fetched that one as serious and experienced as him just couldn’t drive. 

“Glad to see how little faith you had in my capabilities.”

“Nawww, it wasn’t like that, don't worry.” You grinned at him.

“It’s my synesthesia mostly. Why I don’t drive. Sometimes it’s too overwhelmin’ to where I don’t always trust myself behind the wheel.” He gave his explanation and you felt that familiar twinge in your chest you’d had been feeling in his presence over the passing weeks. You weren’t too familiar with his condition but from what he’d mentioned here and there it didn’t sound all that pleasant. 

“Makes sense. Seems scary to have from what you’ve said.” 

“You find yourself getting used to it after a while. I’ve built up the sense of knowing what’s really occurrin’ versus what ain’t.”  He sniffed, sounding nonchalant at the confession. It fascinated you just how we went about handling the cards he’d been dealt so far in life. If it were you in his shoes you were sure you would’ve gone AWOL by now. As you pulled up to your address, you felt the sting of disappointment that this had all swiftly found its end. It surprised you at how quickly time flew by during the car ride, realizing this was the most semi-lighthearted and continuous conversation that had ever flowed between you two. It wasn’t much of a chore to listen to him speak as Marty made it out to be. The difference could also be found in the fact you just regarded Rust in a different light than others happened to. 

The engine cut and the only sounds offered were that of the cicadas and frogs somewhere out in the lush foliage surrounding your house. 

You brushed some hair from out of your face and met his eyes again, “Thanks... again. I appreciate it a lot.”

He just nodded, “What time d’ya usually head out of here in the morning.”

You froze. Was he really offering up himself again? Completely and willingly? For you?

“You don’t have to! I’ll bug Marty about it or see if my sister can help me out-”

“What time?” The finality of it had you even more stunned. It was a disorienting sensation to think that Rust Cohle just might tolerate you more than he did most.

He more than just tolerated you but you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“6:30ish. I can pay you for gas o-or-”

“Just be up and ready to go.” Was all he said and that was it on the matter. After a moment or two, you brought yourself out of your awe and collected your stuff. You opened the door to head out of the truck but not before turning to him and placing a hand on his forearm lightly, the first time you’ve ever acted on any affectionate inclinations in regards to him. He stiffened almost imperceptibly but didn’t jerk away. 

“I’m serious. Thank you.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Steel blue stayed focused on the windshield ahead. 

“That ain’t like me. Coffee or breakfast’s on me tomorrow. Whatever my savior wants he’ll get. It’s the least I could do. My poor legs and I can live to see another day thanks to the benevolent nature of Rustin Cohle-” You were cut off by the scoff of your partner, inciting a small fit of laughter from yourself. 

“Sorry, can't keep things too serious. You could use that every once in a while, y’know.” You patted his shoulder before hopping out.

His sights were then set on you as you shut the door and you let yourself bathe in the feeling of it for just a hair longer than you should’ve. Yeah, you were beyond flustered from the day’s events. Hair in a severe state of frizz, bruise having bloomed a bit further along your browbone, and clothes in a state of mess he’d never seen on you before. But it just made you all the more endearing. Especially with that ever-blooming smile of yours. It was becoming more evident that there was little you could do that would have Rust judging or turning you away. He didn’t know what to make of it but he's sure now that he’s offered up himself as your chauffeur for the time being he had to settle with the fate that things wouldn’t be getting any easier for his withered soul. 

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow mornin’.” 

“That you will.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

“G’night, Rust.” 

The turn of the engine had the spell you’d been enraptured in dissipating and you stepped away from the truck. He lifted a palm signalling his departure before making his way back down the road and out of sight. A heavy exhale escaped the tightening prison of your chest as your mind swam at the whole interaction. Every little detail about him had you becoming increasingly attached much to your distaste. A cold shower and ridding the smell of his addictive cologne from your memory sounded like more than a good idea right about now. Anything to run these thoughts of your very emotionally unavailable coworker out of the recesses of your brain. 

This was going to be a lot of work. 

[fluffymaxsworld]

taking advantage of your most recent post 😈😈

simon w/ soaps little sister? (nsfw or fluff!!!)

-🐏

GIRL.

my secret kink😍

simon riley x johnny’s sis!reader

[alcohol, smut, fluffy? no angst tho, p in v, creampie, little aftercare, car sex]

first encounter something like this:

he’s just so shocked that JOHNNY’s sister is that good looking. he stares a few minutes at johnny and then at you, he even wants to ask if you were adopted.

and you were surprised too, and not because your brother had a friend!!, but because he was so handsome too. he had dirty blonde hair and blue/gray eyes, you couldn’t recognize which color precisely, and was tall, oh god, at least 6’4.

as soon as johnny left you two alone he started blabbering, talking nonsense because poor boy he never met a girl like you!! :(( and he doesn’t know what to do but you (luckily) stop him and quickly give him your number (“yeah, if johnny gets drunk…” was your excuse. realistic, good job).

he just smiled and accept it but he wanted to kiss you so so bad :,( he never used that much of self control in the military!!

unfortunately johnny interrupted that awkward moment you were sharing and you couldn’t pin over each other for much longer. in fact, they had to leave for another mission, leaving you alone :(

/// 2 months later ///

“y/n? is that you?” his raspy voice was on the other end of the phone. you could sense the alcohol from his tone.

“yeah. what’s up?” you answered. you could barely hide the excitement in your voice as you heard simon calling you after what seemed like years.

“johnny’s drunk”

oh. he actually believed the excuse…

“that asshole… send me the address, please. i’m coming.” you sighed and reached for your winter boots, dressing up casually.

“yeah, thank you...” he replied. something told you he was quite drunk too.

a few minutes later you arrived at the address. it was a comfortable, small military bar, or something like that. it was frequented by militaries and maybe it was just an unspoken rule.

simon was holding johnny in front of the entry, the greenish lights hitting his beautiful lashes and you remembered why you liked him so much when you met him.

“simon! hey, i’m here!” you waved at him, opening the car and quickly coming over to help him put inside johnny.

“thank you beautiful…” he mumbled drunkenly, stroking gently your hair. his breath smelled like scottish beer and smoke (so hot).

you flushed slightly but decently at his comment, used to the scenes your brother made when he was intoxicated.

you lend your arm to johnny and he managed to sit straight on his seat.

“do you need a ride?” you asked simon.

“that’ll be nice.” he answered.

you expected him to enter the car, but he subtly reached for your hand, grabbing it gently. he stroked your knuckles and you blushed even more, now that wasn’t something your brother did when he was drunk.

you stared into his eyes, finally have a chance to decide whether they were blue or grey. he stared back, and the tension was palpable. you guessed your brother was dead asleep because he’d probably tease the shit out of you if he saw the scene.

“you’re pretty…” he broke the silence. with his free hand he touched softly your cheek, moving his thumb under your left eye.

“thank y-”

you couldn’t finish the sentence, his lips were already on yours. he was devouring you like the last meal on earth, leaving your breathless. the kiss was tender yet hungry, it lasted a few seconds that felt like hours.

when he pulled you away he looked more drunk that he was before, his pupils were big and heart shaped. he didn’t seem to realize who he kissed, who was you, johnny’s sister.

but that was fine, and you were fine with it. you checked your brother, asleep like you guessed, and with a swift move you took him out and called a cab.

“he’s a military, he can look for himself” simon said and you trusted him (you’ll definitely regret this in the morning).

you took his hand and ran towards your car, shoving him inside and lean for another kiss, eager this time.

you drove till a empty spot, easy to find in the middle of nowhere, and turning off the engine and sitting on his lap.

“please tell me this isn’t a drunk mistake” you whined, already squeezing your thighs together.

“it isn’t… i shouldn’t toy with a girl like ya…” he groaned, eager to kiss you again and trailing wet kisses along your jaw.

you felt everything but right, he was your brother’s best friend after all… but you couldn’t care less, the thought of this military man completely head over heels for you was too suffocating.

you unbuttoned your shirt and took it off, showing him your bra and hell it turned him on more than anything. you could feel already his bulge pressing against your pants, hungry for your touch.

“fuck…” he groaned, shifting his body searching for friction.

you reached for his belt and unbuckled it, taking the pants off in one quick move.

his boxers were slightly wet, dripping from precum, and the view was intoxicating.

you decided to skip foreplay, you needed him inside you before the reality hit you.

“please…” you murmured, taking off the boxers and staring at his throbbing dick. pinky tip and the thickest shaft you’ve ever seen. such a pretty dick.

you looked at him one last time, searching for any signs of regret. as you saw nothing, you slowly pressed his tip on your folds, moaning out of pleasure.

and he wasn’t a silent man, no, he was groaning and crying for your pussy. he had a hand on your left breast and sucking on the right nipple.

you took him all in a fast movement, feeling full of him.

“shit… such a tight little pussy…” he whined, with his thumb stretching you out.

“fuckin’ hell simon…” you stared to move, to jump on his cock and feeling that warm sensation in your stomach.

when he found your g-spot you started crying out of pleasure, clenching around his length. it took him everything he had to not come right away, but you felt he was growing thicker and hotter inside you.

“princess you’re going to make me come already…” he groaned, buckling his hips.

you arched your back, moaning loudly. you felt that familiar feeling building in your stomach.

“simon… i’m…” you said before clenching tightly around his shaft and holding on the car roof.

you came a few seconds later and he followed you right after, filling your womb with his semen.

“oh shit..” he said before slamming your hips onto his dick and filling you even deeper.

as soon as he caught his breath again he gently lifted you up, looking for anything to clean the mess. he found in his pants a napkin, placing it softly on your sex, wiping away the come and the sticky stuff on your thighs.

you smiled, staring deeply at that man.

“hey… what about we go out sometimes?” you asked him. you weren’t sure if he thought that was a one night stand, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

he looked up, you could sense he wasn’t much drunk anymore, and with a bright smile he nodded.

“i’d love that. friday?”

you sighed in relief, smiling back, “friday sounds perfect”

💥💥💥💥

woooooooo it’s been awhile since i wrote smut :))

anyways thx for the request i think this is one of my favorites yet!! i might do a fluffier pt2 of the date? and maybe when soap discovers it

tell me what u think and if you got ideas for pt2!!<3

[midnight-mourning]

Liar, Liar (Goose Down Coat on Fire)

Holiday Spirit! au Chapter 1

hehehehehe, HEHEHEHEHE

ahem. here u go, first chapter after much waiting, please enjoy :D

reminder for those that don't know, this is an au for my fic, confused spirit but you don't have to have read it to follow along. Additionally, day 7 of my December requests serves as the prologue for this ^_^

Word Count: 5762

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There's a clattering sound behind you, making you jump ever so slightly. It's followed by a curse or two and a 'sorry!'. You frown, focusing back in on the gear work on the workbench in front of you. You have to be careful with this, these are delicate after all. One wrong move and you'll lose several hours’ worth of work. 

You adjust the tabletop magnifying glass, and tighten your grip on your tweezers. You're about to add the last thin gear into place—

Another clatter. "Sorry!"

You let out a noise of frustration. "That better not be important or it's coming out of your pay, Petey."

"Of course not, just the cogs we finished manufacturing this morning." Jesse quips, hammering something once or twice. "Not important at all."

"It's not my damn fault they keep slipping! These tongs suck."

Your eye twitches, turning slightly to look back at him. "Then use the other tongs, it's that simple."

"That'd be too easy." Savannah tsks. 

You shake your head, waving your free hand. "I don't have time for this, Ms. Faun's coming by in thirty for her clock and it's not finished yet." You look up to your apprentice, who's sitting to your right, watching you work intently. "Liv, would you mind helping Petey find the other tongs since he's so incapable of doing so?"

She nods, getting up to go over and help. 

"Hey! I'm the one making sure these things spend exactly 10 minutes in the fire."

Jesse scoffs. "Yeah, that's your job. Which, it wouldn't be if you'd hadn't messed up the clockwork with your grubby hands."

They start to bicker and you do your best to tune it out, focusing back on your work. This wasn't your typical gig—again, it was Pete's—but you enjoyed the smaller mechanism work every now and then. It also helped keep food on the table. 

Your crew was of decent size for the operation you had here, being the only smithy and mechanic shop in your village. It needed to be, considering that you were the only one around for miles and miles throughout the mountains. You were fortunate enough to be able to pull business from other nearby villages as well. 

But, as the arguing—and laughter—grows in volume behind you, sometimes you wonder if it's worth it to do something you love so much. Yes, they were your friends. But damn, if they didn't get on your nerves just like siblings sometimes. 

Speaking of, Lisa should be up soon. You should get breakfast ready. 

After a brief moment of clarity to finally finish the missing component of the clock, you set it aside, scribbling a note to Ms. Frau and sitting back with a stretch. You remove your goggles, shoving them up into your hair as you stand. 

You nod to Savannah, who's busy mixing metals as you head to the back door of the shop, into your kitchen and home proper. 

It's quiet back here, only small bits of noise coming through from the forge. Outside you can hear town starting to come to life, waking up as the day begins. You preferred to start earlier and end later so you had more time for your siblings. Additionally, having the shop open earlier meant you could prepare orders well ahead of time before having to worry about someone coming to pick them up. 

You rub your hands together, going over to the stove and checking the fire inside, tossing a log or two on both for heat and cooking purposes. 

As you're filling the kettle for the second time that morning, you hear feet hit the floor upstairs. A few minutes later, a face appears in the doorway, rubbing its bleary eyes. 

"Good morning." You say, walking over to the ice box. "You want bacon and eggs?"

A yawn. "Yeah."

"Go put boots on and check on Getrude then. She's probably hungry."

Lisa nods, shuffling over to the door and putting on boots, you hear the door close a moment later. 

While cooking breakfast, Lisa sits in a chair beside you, legs swinging as she watches you. 

"Those guards were super cool the other day. Do you think we'll see them again?"

You pause a moment, then shake your head. "Probably not up close, they've got duties to attend to and all that. But we might see them around."

"Oh. Okay." Lisa sighs. "But they were soooo fun. Mr. Moon gave us so many rides! And Mr. Sun is so silly."

You chuckle. You'd been surprised to find how good the two had been with your sister and Jack, but you'd been grateful for it. And amused as well, considering their initial hostility in your first encounter. "Yeah, I bet."

You're eating breakfast, Gabe in your lap now that he's awake, when you hear a commotion coming from the shop. 

Suddenly, your forge tender, Tyler, bursts through the door. Covered in ash and soot, he points a gloved hand behind him, out of breath. "They uh, need you in the main shop, broski."

You stand up, adjusting Gabe to sit on your hip. "What's wrong?"

"Better you see for yourself. That uh, purple rabbit's here, what's his name?"

Your brow furrows, but you make your way over to the door. "What would Bon need this early?"

Tyler shrugs. 

You walk back into your shop, your brother gnawing on part of an apple, where you see one of your neighbors, Bon, standing near the entrance. He locks on to you when you enter, concerned look in his eyes. 

"Everything okay Bon?" You ask as you make it over to him, nodding to Jesse and Pete that it's fine and they don't need to hold him back any longer. They nod in turn, going back to work. 

"There you are, sorry to be bugging you. And for making a scene." He winces, then shakes his head. "Listen, I've been seeing animatronics coming and going from here like crazy the past few days. What's going on?"

You cringe yourself. "It's a bit of a story, one that I'm not really too sure on myself. How long you got?"

Since the beginning of the festival a few days ago, you'd had a rather strange increase in clients. Specifically of the mechanical kind. Granted, you were used to taking care of animatronics, several lived in your village and the throughout kingdom as a whole. But this number of different clients every, single, day, was unheard of. 

Sure, it could be that because they were here on guard duty, many had decided to get a tune up or the likes and since your shop was the only option close by, took advantage of that. But the work you'd been doing lately wasn't routine maintenance. It was repairs.

Lots, and lots, of repairs. 

Not minor ones, either. You were replacing entire body parts in some cases. All of them guards, all of them coming from the castle. You had at least six or seven cases a day. 

It didn't make any sense. You doubted it was caused by the humans around. There was no ill will between man and machine in this day and age. So they had to be happening some other way. You'd tried asking directly, but never got a response on the matter. Given that most of your clients were the wide-eyed G.U.A.R.D. bots, this made sense. You honestly weren't sure if they were able to say much more than basic conversation topics. 

But the others you'd had, like the pink and white bear bot, or the fox, they just, avoided the topic. Skirting around it with a laugh or a quick quip. 

It made you uneasy to put it plainly. You couldn't wrap your head around it. It wasn't exactly a bad thing for you, it meant business was booming. Like the equivalent of a gold rush for you and your crew, holiday bonuses and the likes. 

But still, the idea that something more was going on was nagging at you, and you couldn't help the gnawing thought at the back of your mind that something really wrong was happening. 

You explain only part of this to Bon, not wanting to sound like a loon because of some hay brained passing suspicion. Maybe things will calm down today, and it'll just have been a weird fluke of coincidences. 

When you're finished, Bon nods his head thoughtfully. 

"Just like I thought." He shakes his head, looking to you. "Thank you, I suppose the only thing left to say is congratulations on the business."

You laugh, slightly awkward. "Yeah, thanks."

Bon heads to leave, then stops, turning to you. "And hey, out of curiosity. There hasn't been any blue rabbits that've come through right? Taller than me, maybe with an earring?"

"There was one blue rabbit." You say, thinking back, "But he was much smaller than you. Bright red cheeks. Why do you ask?"

Bon waves his hand. "No reason. I've seen him around, is all. Was curious. Have a good one!"

"You too!" You call after him, then frown. 

Surely it's just a coincidence that Bon's noticed the strangeness of this, right? You shake your head. No use worrying over something that's quite literally benefitting you. You let it go, and after a brief chat with your crew, head to go finish breakfast and send Lisa off to school.

Sure enough, you have several more animatronics come in before lunch, and many more that come in after. It's a busy day once more, and you have to shoo away that feeling in your gut by rattling your coin pouch several times as you walk through town later on in the day. 

Everything is bustling because of the festival, people you know and you don't passing you by as you walk along. You'd left Jesse in charge to finish out the day, deciding you needed to run some errands today. 

With the influx of money coming in, you'd decided you'd treat your siblings to some nicer meals for a least a few nights to celebrate. You also needed to get Lisa a new coat, maybe check in on your supplies you'd ordered from Lizzy because of all your new clients and there was also—

Your brother's delighted giggling interrupts your train of thoughts. Assuming some passerby must have entertained him, you keep moving forward. Another loud giggle and now your confused. 

You turn slightly to try and spy who or what behind you is exciting him, not seeing able to directly notice anyone. You shrug, giving up and about to step forward when. 

You halt, a red and blue torso blocking your view. A white and blue visage comes into your view. 

"Hello there, Andromeda."

You blink. "Oh, hello again, Moon. Fancy seeing you again."

"The same to you." He nods, then stands straight. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

You scoff, raising this paper in your hand with your to do list. "Hardly. I have things to do. Unlike the tourists, my job doesn't stop for the holidays."

"What a pity, and it's the nicest weather we've had so far."

You start walking again, Moon falling in step beside you. "No kidding. But, that's life. Maybe I'll take Lisa to one of the plays later, as a treat."

"I think that would be an excellent idea, personally." Out of the corner of your eye you catch him wiggling his finger at Gabriel, who giggles and claps his hands. 

You review your list, deciding to tackle the market first and foremost. "And what about you? What are you up to today?"

"Protecting civilians of course. What does it look like?" He teases. 

You snort. "Like you're chatting with civilians. No offense."

"None taken. I suppose."

The crowd thins only slightly upon entrance into the market. Nobles and the likes have no need to visit where the commoner's shop for food and the likes, unless they wished to gawk, that is. Moon sticks with you, chatting as you go stall to stall gathering groceries. Even offering to carry things for you, which, you're not one to turn down a bit of free help. 

You're examining some fresh fish when a thought occurs to you to finally ask. "Where's that partner of yours? The sunny one."

Moon pauses for a moment, then he chuckles, grin widening slightly. "Busy."

"Hm. Fair enough."

After the market, Moon continues to stick with you, playing the role of your helper quite well. 

You manage to knock out most of your list an hour quicker than you expected. So, you decide to take a break, heading to the bakery to grab a snack. 

You're sitting out at one of the tables, watching as across the square there's a bit of dancing and such taking place. Gabe's sitting on the table, nibbling on a bit of cookie you'd allowed him. 

It really is a nice day, the Sun is warm against the cold air. The music from across the square flits all around you, the chattering of people mixing in between. 

You take a bite of your scone. "Could I ask you a bit of a weird question?"

"Weird how?" Moon asks, but his tone is cheeky.

You shake your head. "I guess forward is the better word. But anyway, there's been a bit of an increase in customers in my shop the past few days."

"Remind me what it is you do?" He lifts his hand to twiddle his fingers above Gabe's head, chin resting in his other hand.

"Smithy, technician, tinkerer, what have you,"—you chomp down again—"Only one around, and that's been made very clear to me. Everyday I've had several animatronics come in, all banged up and bruised. Well, not bruised but you get the point. And I can't make hide nor hair of it."

You hear a click or two to your left. "And you think I might know?"

"Well, I assumed so, I don't know all the royal guard castle stuff works." You wave your hand. "Forgive me, I was just curious I guess."

No response. You glance over for a moment. Moon's eyes are narrowed, grin seeming, strained. But he's not looking at you, not seeming to be looking at anything in particular at all. 

Gabriel sneezes, and that seems to pull him out of it. You see the small, white pupils he sometimes has flick to you for a moment. 

"If I were you, I wouldn't worry so much about things like that."

You nod, smiling once. "Yeah, you're right." 

On the inside though? You're so, incredibly, suspicious. You know better than to let that show, however. While you've been cordial all day, you two don't know each other beyond the base conversations you've shared. 

And you know all too well the costs of trusting a stranger.

"Odd choice of a necklace charm." Moon interrupts your thoughts. 

You realize that you've been fiddling with it. "Huh? Oh, yeah." You tuck it back into your shirt. "Gift from a friend."

He nods, sitting back. "Must have been a good one."

"Something like that."

Despite your best efforts—and the extra set of hands—you still managed to forget a few things on your list. Forcing you to once again face the festival crowds the next day. 

Things aren't any slower than before, but by now your crew has fallen into the routine to be able to manage without you for a few hours. They've also been trying to force you to go more, somehow knowing that you'd be hunkered down doing repairs until your hands hurt otherwise. Which, you'd already done at least three days in a row now. 

So, you'll take the break, and use it as an opportunity to finish your list and maybe plan out some gifts for the upcoming holiday. 

It's a bit colder today, not nearly as sunny out. Still just as busy though. It's a bit harder to navigate, but you manage. 

For the most part. 

While walking through the shopping district, someone bumps into you. Not wanting to cause a scene, you apologize. 

The person huffs, and looking over you can tell by their dress they're upper class types. The woman snaps open her fan, eyes clearing showing her disdain. "How rude."

"You should watch where you're going." The man, you're guessing her husband, adds. 

You put your hands up. "Apologies. Won't happen again."

"Can't even be bothered to give a proper apology?" The man asks, stepping forward. Causing you to step back. People are starting to watch now. Of course, the one time you come to the nicer part of town and you manage to make a scene. It wasn't even your fault! She bumped into you. 

You keep your voice even to hide your irritation, and minor fear. "Again, I apologize. I really didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure you didn't,"—he scoffs, pointing a finger at you and again stepping closer—"You should consider it fortunate that—"

He doesn't get to finish, a large shadow obstructing your view of him. Taking a moment to adjust your vision, you see the back of a red coat, and glancing upwards, find the back of a seven-rayed head. 

Sun glances briefly back at you a moment before focusing on the man in front of him. 

"What seems to be the trouble here?" He asks. 

The man tsks. "They bumped into my lovely wife and couldn't even muster up an apology! The nerve of these commoners, I swear." He looks around Sun and points to you. "I want them fined at minimum, and a night in the jail unless they can give us a reason to forgive them."

"Is that so?" Sun turns to look at you, you duck your head, face burning. 

This was ridiculous. You'd heard stories of some stuck up nobles out there, and you knew better than to believe they were all like this, but still. You just hope this will be quick, and that the fine is a small one. 

There's a click or two above you. "Well, from what I saw, sir, your wife bumped into them."

You freeze, eyes wide as you look up to the bot, who's now staring down the man with a strained smile. 

"So, therefore, she should be the one apologizing,"—Sun suddenly bends down to be the same height as the couple, and they both jump back slightly. Sun tilts his head with a click—"Don't you think?"

The man blusters for a moment. "I, well I, that—" He shakes his head, adjusting his coat, angry, but relenting. "I suppose so."

Sun claps his hands, standing upright. "Very good then! Well, ma'am?" He turns his attention to her. 

You peek out a bit further from behind Sun, unable to smother the smirk on your lips. She seems just flustered and defeated as her husband. 

She doesn't look you in the eye as she mumbles out—"My apologies."

"Is that satisfactory for you?"

Your realize Sun's talking to you. You nod, not wanting to drag this out any further, you're still in shock that it's happening this way and that you're not being carted off the jail. "Yes, thank you for apologizing."

After another hushed exchange, the couple storm off, and you relax finally as the street returns to normal. 

You notice you still have a shadow on you. Glancing up, you see Sun staring down at you. 

"Thank you. Very much so." You start to walk off then. "I won't keep you, have a good day—woah!"

You're stopped by a firm hand on your shoulder. You trace it up to the sunny guard's narrowed gaze. 

"It was only by chance I was nearby. That could have gone very differently for you, Icarus." You hear a few sharp clicks emit from him.

You stare at each other a moment before you relax, rolling your eyes with a huff. "Yeah, I know. And again, I'm grateful for the help, but I have things to do. So let go or tag along for the ride. Keep in mind though, I'm only strong enough to carry Gabe."

"Very well then,"—his hand shifts from your shoulder to your arm interlocking with yours—"Let's get to it."

You glance at the hold a moment, then scoff. "Alright. Fair warning, I will make you carry stuff."

The two of you start to travel down the street, your first stop is the coat shop.

"I'll consider it."

"Hah! Witty aren't you?" You ask. 

Sun doesn't answer, eyes crinkling as he smile widens a tinge. 

Much like how Moon accompanied you yesterday, Sun does the same. Though, he has a bit more direct commentary on your shopping choices. Specifically critique. He seems to love to critique you. 

It wears you down quickly, and by the end of the trip you've thrown all common courtesy to the wind and bicker with him like you would anyone else you know. 

"I still believe you'd be better off purchasing something with goose down instead." 

You scoff as you exit the shop, bell clinking above you. "And for the last time, I've told you that Lisa would destroy a goose down coat in a matter of hours. It'd be wasted on her." You shove the brown parcel into his arms. "Sheep's wool is just fine."

"Perhaps you should teach her to take better care of her things." He takes the package, adding it to the others in his hold. 

You laugh. "You ever try to tell an eight year old what to do? They're not great listeners." You check the time, seeing that it's time to go pick her up from school. "Speaking of, I need to go grab her. Let's run this back home and then you're free to get out of my hair."

"Wouldn't it be easier on you to just retrieve her directly?" He asks.

"Yeah, but it'd be more work on you. And I figured you'd be tired of me by now." You shrug. "Besides, don't you have a job to do?"

Sun looks down to you, rays flicking back and forth. Then he tsks. "Tell me which way the school is before I start walking a random direction."

"I—okay. This way." 

He speaks again after a moment. "Your errands today weren't dissimilar to my patrol route, and after your little mishap earlier, I'd rather keep an eye on you myself."

"Make sure I'm not causing any trouble for the rich folk?" You simper. 

Sun laughs, it's surprisingly light. "On the contrary, I believe they'd cause you trouble."

"Oh."

"Though, yes, you'd probably somehow make it worse." He finishes. 

Your eyes narrow. "You know, I think I don't really like you."

"The feeling's mutual, Bright Eyes."

Lisa's waiting for you on the steps when you arrive, chatting away with a few of her friends. When she sees you she beams, waving. When she sees Sun her eyes light up, rushing over to tackle him with a hug. 

"Mr. Sun! What are you doing here?" She looks up to him. "They said I'd never ever see you again!"

You huff. "No, I said you probably wouldn't—"

"Well, they were surely mistaken then, weren't they?" Sun shifts all the items he's carrying to one hand, reaching down to ruffle Lisa's hair. 

She giggles. "Yeah, they're such a liar!"

"I did not lie!"

Sun walks you back to your home, and you thank him again for his help. 

Color you surprised—and suspicious—when over the next week or so either one or both of the celestial guards decide to accompany you on your walks to and from getting Lisa from school. Entertaining her or Gabriel while chatting idly with you. 

They also always seem to find you while you're out and about, which had been more frequent with all the repairs you'd been doing. You've gotten to the point where you've had to completely restock some days. You've even brought Tyler out from the back to help in the main shop, you're that desperate. 

Regardless of that, you can't help the sense of concern that's eating away at you. This doesn't make sense. What could be causing this amount of damage to these animatronics? Why won't they tell you what's happening to them? What exactly is going on up in that castle that no one seems to be noticing besides you?

As for Sun and Moon, you can't get a read on them either. You're not stupid, there's a reason they're essentially tailing you. And you know they're not foolish either. The three of you are just skirting around the massive elephant in the room. 

But, you can't deny, besides that, you've enjoyed the companionship as of late. Besides your crew you weren't much for talking to people. It was, unfortunately, undeniably good for you that they wouldn't leave you be. 

To a point, that is. 

You're mulling all this over again as the parade goes on in front of you. Abby's standing to your right with her brother, Lisa's in front of you. While trying to keep a calm demeanor, you know deep down you're both concerned about letting either child out of your sight. And not just because of what happened a little over a week ago. 

A child went missing last night. 

The butcher from down the road's daughter, his wife was going up and down the street sobbing. You were part of one of the search parties that went looking for her, not even a sign of her turning up in or out of town. The dogs weren't able to catch her scent. Just laid down on the ground, paws over their whining snouts. 

It sent a shock through the community, especially you. This was your biggest fear, all but confirmed. But, you kept that to yourself, the last thing that was needed was more panic. 

You yawn, you'd searched for hours, well into the night, and were exhausted because of it. Your grip on Lisa's shoulder tightens. Still, if that had been her—you shake her head. You'd do anything to find her, that's for sure. 

At the very least, your back is glad that you decided to leave Gabe at home today. Savannah's sister happened to be around and offered to sit for you, meaning you could just focus on your sister today. Which, given her troublemaker attitude, was a good thing. 

The precession grows more elaborate and the crowd's volume increases. It shifts from simple dancers and musicians to elaborate contortionists and stilt walkers. You spy a few animatronics within the mix, in particular a white and pink fox and a ballerina-like bot that catch your eye. 

It's not until the marching soldiers however that you really pay attention however. As while you do spy several familiar machines among the rows—including Sun & Moon—from their time in your shop, it's one of the human guards that makes you perk up. 

And unfortunately, so does Lisa.

"Hey! That's Miss Bri!" She exclaims, jumping up and down. 

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "You're right, Lis. It is her."

"Miss Bri! Miss Bri it's me!" Your sister shouts, arm waving wildly. 

People around you start shooting looks and you mumble a few 'sorries' in response. You try shushing your sister. "Quiet down, Lisa. We'll try to talk to her after the parade. Look, there's the royal family." You point to the carriage they're riding in, but Lisa could care less. 

She blows a raspberry. "Who cares about some old king and his kids. I wanna see Miss Bri!"

You cringe at the offended gasps around you. 

"Teach that girl some respect." Someone comments beside you. 

You turn half-shrugging and trying not to get overwhelmed. "She's eight, can yah really blame her?"

Taking your hands off Lisa for even a second was a mistake. Everything happens all at once. 

There's a shot that rings out in the back of the precession where the king is, causing a disruption in the crowd and people to scream. In the commotion, Lisa takes her chance to break out of your grip, running over to where Bri is in the road. 

You race after her, getting there just in time to see your friend's surprised face as she scoops Lisa up in her arms. 

"Little Lady, I don't think you're supposed to be here." Bri states, looking down at your sister. 

Lisa wraps her arms tight around the guard, burying her head against her chest. "I didn't I'd ever see you again! You went away! I hated it." You can just barely make out a sniffle from her.

Bri softens. "Hey, it's alright. I told you I'd come visit sometime, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm visiting now. So, let's cheer up a bit, alright?" Bri pulls back, reaching up to take off her hat and setting it on your sisters head. "Here, you can wear this for me, yeah?"

Lisa sniffs again, cheering up. "Okay."

Bri smiles, then looks up to you. "Hell of an entrance, L/N."

"Same to you, Perry." You grin, and hug her tight.  

She claps you on the back hard, shaking your shoulder when you pull away. "It's really great to see you, but I think we both know this isn't the time for greetings."

"Yeah, I know." You both turn to the now calming chaos by the king's carriage. 

She nods to it. "Walk over with me?" 

"Sure."

She adjusts Lisa, who still clings to her, keeping her voice low. "If I'm right about what's going on, I'll need you. Have I got you?"

"Long as you got me." You nod, and she returns it. 

Upon arrival, you can see a small crowd of guards standing around something on the ground by the open-air carriage. You pay no mind to the royal family, you think you'd start freaking out if you did, and instead follow Bri into the crowd's center. 

Along the way, you catch Moon's gaze among the group, who seems surprised to see you. You just offer him a wave and a smile. When you see Sun, you stick your tongue out at him. You think if he could he'd return the favor. 

Laying in the snow, flailing about, is an animatronic, being restrained by three others. It's a blue rabbit, and the others holding him down include a bear, a wolf, and a gator. 

"Bonnie! You have to calm down, please!" The bear pleads. 

The gator growls as he's hit the face by a loose claw. "He's not home right now, Fred. Make a decision already, or I will."

"It's a long shot, but anything you can do?" Bri asks. "This keeps happening randomly to all our bots, and the only solution we've been able to think of has been a bit, graphic. Bonnie's a good guy, I think if he could stop, he would."

Glancing around briefly, you see several already disarmed GUARD bots lying about. Still twitching every so often. Alive, obviously, but likely in pain. If animatronics could feel pain, that is. You're going to assume yes for now.

You nod, trying to think quick. "Yeah, let's give it a chance." You try to take a closer look at the bot. "Tell them to flip him over on his back."

As Bri does so, you dig around in your bot for your knife, snatching it up into your hand when you find it. 

You approach the group, cautious, but determined. 

"Get me clear access to his head." You direct, earning a look from the gator and the wolf, but they shift so you can move in. 

You ignore the thrashing and garbled static coming from the bunny as you kneel down, hand ghosting over the metal of his skull until you find his access panel. You wedge your knife into the small crack, popping it open and tossing it off into the snow. 

Bonnie grows more erratic for a moment, and you jump back slightly until they regain control over him. 

"Hope you know what you’re doing, mon ami." The gator mutters. 

You nod, leaning back in. "Ouais, moi aussi."

Inside, it's set up exactly how you predicted, and after a few quick button presses, and the unplugging of a few wires, Bonnie stills completely. You remove your hands entirely, waiting for a few moments. Once the time is up, you slowly reach down and reinsert the wires in their proper places. 

"Okay. Let him go." You stand up, stepping back. You bump into something, and after a glance to the yellow hand on your shoulder you know who. 

There's a quiet voice by your head as the other animatronics also step back, and the bunny slowly starts to get to his feet. "What did you do?"

"Shut off his limb controls, then gave his system a hard reset." You murmur back. 

Bonnie stands straight, gripping his head. "What happened?"

He's tackled into a hug by the bear that had been holding him down, and a chicken animatronic joins shortly thereafter. "You're okay!"

"Of course I'm alright, Fred. Seriously, what's going on?"

The group of guards cheer, and you feel several reach around the bots behind you give you their thanks. You give polite smiles and nods in response, but inside, you're thinking. You're thinking intently. 

Bonnie has an earring in his right ear, and he's around the same height as another rabbit you know well. 

And his control access is identical.

Bri takes up your vision then, Lisa still in her arms. She encircles you in another hug. "I knew you could do it! Thank you."

"Of course. Glad he's alright."

She goes to say more, but stops, bowing her head. You see the others around you have done the same, in some cases going down on one knee. Turning around, your realize why. 

Through the now surrounding quiet, there's a lone clap that can be heard. It's coming from the carriage, from a man who's now standing, the crown on his head glinting in the sunlight. 

The smile on his face is wide, almost too wide. 

"Well done! Well done, indeed." The King ceases his clapping. "I've yet to meet one as well-versed with machines as myself. Tell me, who must I thank for stepping in and averting disaster here today?"

You can only stand frozen in shock, the grip that's slipped down to your arm is like iron. This is entirely not how you were expecting this day to end up.

Well, shoot.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Man, bet y'all weren't expecting the references to og fnaf in this huh? I keep y'all on your toes. You should know by now, NEVER lower your guard when it comes to me and Confused spirit related things. Anywho~ thanks for reading! I'll be working on getting the next one out soon :)

Main Post with chapter links & info

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a (brilliant mastermind behind this au idea btw)

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Clothes make the man

AN: There is no plot here. This is just porn. I have nothing to say for myself other than this is Kai's (@lovelyhan ) fault, and this outfit has haunted me for three years now. I had to get this out of my system. I resisted with the Daddy kink this time around but, this is still me largely pushing my 'Joshua is kinkier than I feel like people give him credit for' agenda so. Now I'll disappear in shame and embarrassment *finger guns.*

Synopsis: You don't expect to feel so strongly about one of Joshua's stage outfits.

Heads up: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, established relationship, Dom! Joshua, Sub! Reader, mentions of previous thigh riding, Reader mentions boot humping in passing once, scent kink if you squint, hand and arm kink of sorts (Reader is really into Josh's hands and arms), praise (f. receiving), pet names, Reader has an oral fixation, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, hints of a size kink, dirty talk, mirror sex, nipple play (f. receiving), degradation (f. receiving), risky sex/public sex (they fuck in Josh's dressing room and are vaguely worried about being caught), vaginal fingering (f. receiving), mostly clothed sex, me pushing my big dick! Josh agenda, unprotected piv sex, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers post fingering, it's insinuated that Reader is a masochist, rough sex, dacryphilia kink, creampie and Reader being plugged afterwards.

Word count: 3499

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The cool air from the air conditioner prompts you to tug your cardigan closer to you as you continue to catch up on your scrolling for the day while you wait for Joshua. He texted you that he'd likely be finished with his group shoot for the day in the next half an hour or so and, that you could just wait in his dressing room before the two of you head home.

He finds you completely engrossed with your phone when he does eventually finish up for the day. His lips ticking up in amusement since you still haven't registered his presence.

"Is what's on your phone really more important than your precious boyfriend? I'm hurt," he says with a faux pout to catch your attention. Leaning against his dressing room door.

You pointedly choose to ignore his chuckle when his voice quite literally causes you to jump in your seat. You turn to face him sheepishly, "Hi, Josh. I'm sorry I didn't realise-"

The words die on your tongue in an instant when you take in what he's wearing.

His shirt accentuates his shoulders in a way that is wholly unnecessary. Worse still, his arms are on full display for you to drink in. Muscles flexing and veins visible while he stands there with his arms crossed. And god, his pants. They all but force your eyes to focus on how they flatter his thighs, and you're suddenly hit with a barrage of memories. Memories of Josh flexing them underneath you while you hump them in an attempt to cum. An amused gleam in his eyes as he watched you because you both knew you'd never cum the way you wanted to.

Is it horrible to admit that even his boots are so attractive? In the very deep, private parts of your mind, you think he'd like the idea of watching you grind against them to get off. Maybe if you ever find the courage, you'll ask him.

"Are you okay?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by Joshua's concerned voice. Blinking, you focus back on him only to find his handsome face twinged with confusion and worry. The way his inky hair sticks to said handsome face isn't helping your conundrum, but you do feel guilty for worrying him when you're spiralling over him in one of his stage outfits.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry, I just got a little in my head there."

"In your head? About what?" Dread coils in your gut at the question. You're determined to look anywhere but, directly at him. Fiddling with your phone in your hands while your mind races to think of a half decent answer.

"Um- just school. You know, this semester's been pretty busy. Plus, I have a few assignments due in the next month, so I've been trying to figure out how to schedule my calendar around them. Then it'll be the holiday, but you know never too soon to start preparing -" You're rambling. You know you are, and so does Josh, but the words continue to tumble out of you.

"You're a terrible liar," he interrupts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day. To your absolute horror, he's moving closer to you until he's intimately in your personal space. Oh, this is worse. So, so much worse. Because his scent invades your senses too and, embarrassment warms your face when it dawns on you that you're wet.

His large, warm hand cups your jaw and gently nudges your face up until you meet his intense gaze. His thumb strokes your cheek gently when and, you so badly want it in your mouth instead, but your mouth feels as though it's been stapled shut.

Dread, anticipation and desire form a lethal concoction in your veins when Josh's face shifts from concern and confusion to understanding. The corners of his plump lips lifting up in way that muddles your mind further and causes more of your wetness to trickle onto your panties.

"Oh, I get it now," he rumbles with a laugh that's far too amused, "If you wanted me, you could've just said so." You suddenly find his face mere centimetres from your own with hold on your face keeping you from shying away. Even after being with him for all this time, you still find it difficult to meet his gaze head on occasionally. Maybe you're afraid he'll see just how truly far gone you are for him. Maybe his eyes will finally devour you whole and, you don't know if you'd ever be able to come back from that.

"Where'd you go? Come back to me," he coaxes gently, his face softening momentarily while his thumb drags along your bottom lip. Blinking up at him you finally find your voice again and the words rush out of you, "I'm here. I-I want it. Want you."

Kissing Josh is perhaps one of your favourite activities to partake in with him. His lips are so soft and, even as his tongue teases its way into his mouth, he takes his time. Determined to rile you up just with his mouth and his firm grasp on your face. Your hands reach up for him, feeling like you'll be driven to madness if you don't touch him somehow, somewhere, anywhere. Your hands find purchase on his massive biceps. Hisses pressed against your lips when your nails bite into his skin.

A whine leaves you before you can stop it when he pulls away from you, looking down at you through dark bangs and lidded eyes. "Can we go home?" You ask, your panties starting to cling to you uncomfortably just from this godforsaken outfit and some kissing. You're not sure how much longer can take not having him.

"What's got you so riled up?" He asks instead, genuine curiosity colouring his tone. You elect not to give him a direct response, "Can't I just think my boyfriend is hot?"

"Oh, you absolutely can and, while I'm flattered, we both know me being just hot doesn't get you nearly this worked up," he retorts, leaning down once more to lightly kiss along your neck. His hands shoving your cardigan from your shoulders until it pools around you. You bite back the whimpers that so desperately want to fall from you with every brush of Joshua's lips against your sensitive skin. Your thighs rubbing together in search of any semblance of relief.

"Come on, be a good girl and tell me," he mutters, one of his large hands dragging down your body until it rests a little too high on your upper thigh. "Or do you want me to get it out of you another way?"

"Your outfit," you blurt out immediately, you know Josh's mind is always coming up with frighteningly inventive ways to punish you and, you don't think you could handle that today. Not with how you're barely keeping it together as it is, "You- You look good. Really, really good."

That makes him take pause, "Really? That's it?" He doesn't sound judgemental or as though you just told him the most idiotic thing the world. Just... genuinely surprised.

"Yes," you whine, "Now can we go home please?"

You nearly choke on your spit when he resumes his assault on your poor throat, and his hand finds itself between your thighs, automatically spreading for him because of course they do. Something guttural and from the depths of his chest hit your ear when his fingers brush against your slick panties. Prompting your hips to chase the friction, tightening your hold on him as well.

"Fuck. Fuck, you weren't kidding," he breathes as though you've completely knocked the wind from him. However, he's gone from your body in instant, "Shua, where are you-"

Your question is answered when you see him lock the door only to stock back over to you, his erection testing the durability of these pants and somehow making them look more appealing. Saliva pooling in your mouth while your walls clamp down borderline painfully around nothing.

"My poor baby. I don't think you'll last until we get home," he says, his thumb dragging along your bottom lip. His eyes darken further when he eases it into your mouth, and you suck immediately. Just happy to have anything occupying your mouth.

"I'll just take care of you here. Up," he commands, stepping away from you to give you space to rise to your feet. You blink up at him but when you're only met with an eyebrow raise, you stand up immediately. Letting your cardigan, phone and bag rest on the chair as your boyfriend looms over you. The intent in his eyes more than enough to quicken your heartrate and stiffen your nipples under your casual dress.

"So you do know how to listen," is all the warning you receive before you're all but, shoved against his vanity. One of his hands fondling your breast over your dress while the other drags you by the hip until there's no space between the two of you. His erection burns against your stomach even through the layers of your clothing. Just as heavy with intent.

You moan into his mouth with every brush and squeeze of his hand over your breast, electricity shooting straight down your spine to your clit with every one of his touches but, it's not enough. You want to feel him.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, Joshua has always had a knack for being six steps ahead of you, you find yourself facing your reflection in his mirror. You already look like a mess. Eyes glazed and a little watery with your lips bruised from how thoroughly he's been kissing you. The straps of your dress barely cling to your shoulders, and your breasts jiggle with every heaving breath you take.

A gasp flies from your lips and you hold onto his vanity when Josh presses himself, more specifically his erection, against you once more. You think you may lose your mind if he doesn't just fuck you. You're sure you're more than wet enough to take him by now. You're not quite sure whether you want him to keep his clothes mostly on or, touch his soft skin.

"You're distracted again," he tuts against your shoulder before pressing featherlight kisses to all of the skin he can reach there. A stark contrast to the way his hands roughly tug down the straps of your dress, your breasts free and goosebumps rising when they're met with the cool air of his dressing room.

He meets your gaze in the mirror as he touches them once again. A choked whimper gracing his ears when he barely drags the tips of his fingers over your nipples, "Maybe I'm doing a bad job keeping your attention," he pouts but, that look is in his eyes. Your knees nearly buckle when he tugs on them more harshly this time, soothing them with gentle rubs that make you feel dizzy.

"Is this why you didn't wear a bra today?" The drop of a few octaves in his voice significantly worsen how empty you are in this very moment, "So I'd touch and play with your tits?"

"What a slut you are."

His words coupled with his stupid, stupid, skillfull hands force a drawn out mewl from your throat. Your foggy mind desperately trying to find any words to respond to him.

"Josh- Shua, no I- I didn't think I'd take long to pick y-you up. So, I didn't wear one," you whimper in response after a particularly harsh tug. He puts on a show of humming in thought as though he's not still pinching and toying with your nipples, tears building in your eyes with ever minute he's not inside of you.

"I don't know," he drawls, the air in your lungs stopping as one of his hands snakes its way down your dress until it reaches the apex of your thighs, "Something tells me you didn't wear one so I'd just have to bend you over and fuck you."

If everyone could only see their sweet Joshua now. Spilling filth against your skin while his hand assesses how wet you are and his hips shallowly grind against the swell of your ass for a bit of friction. They'd likely have an aneurism.

A moan far louder than you intended bounces off the walls of his dressing room when his fingers find your clit over your ruined panties. His eyes shutting briefly as if to collect himself before he continues drawing steady circles. You've never been more grateful for the table in front of you because you're sure you would've collapsed into a heap on the floor if you didn't have it to support you.

"Not too loud," he mutters into your skin with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. His hand slipping into your panties to touch you a directly, his throaty groan combining with the moan that you couldn't quite bite back in time when as his fingers tease your wet folds. Your eyes screwing shut as they shallowly dip in and out of your neglected hole.

His hands still, and that prompts you to open your eyes, confused as to what made him stop. "None of that. I want you to see. I want you to watch," he says, his reflection holding your gaze once more. His other hand drifting to hold your jaw in place. Not too harshly but, with enough pressure that you know better than to move.

Whether as a reward or because he simply wants to, eventually sinks a thick finger into you. The stretch prompts a jumbled mess of gasps and whimpers from your chest. Your eyes barely remaining open with the relief of finally having something inside of you.

"There you go," he groans against your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake, "That's my baby."

The angle is a little awkward but, your hips chase the curls of his finger regardless. The need to shove down all of your noises of pleasure becoming increasingly challenge with every exploitation of your weaknesses Josh uses against you.

You don't receive much of a warning this time when he eases a second finger into you, this time the stretch is a little more than you can handle, "J-Josh," you choke out, your wetness dripping down his palm.

"My slutty girl you're doing so good," he coos, kissing the back of your neck while he grinds his erection against your ass, "Taking my fingers so well. Can't wait to feel you on my cock."

That causes a more visceral reaction from you. Your walls clamping down on his long fingers as one of your hands grabs his forearm, "Please. Pl-Please. Shua please. I-I want it please," you couldn't feel embarrassed if you tried. Joshua tended to have that effect on you.

He rests his head against your shoulder briefly, "Gimme a second," he says, the dip of his voice sending shudders down your spine. You cringe a little when he pulls his fingers out of you, your wetness coating them generously. You watch him unbutton and unzip his pants with baited breath, "Can you- can you keep your clothes on?"

Joshua meets your gaze with his eyebrows raised before that knowing look returns to his face. He laugh would sound beautiful if you his cock wasn't minutes from being inside of you and you weren't dripping onto his dressing room floor, "Sure."

Your gratitude comes out as a strangled whimper when the fat head of his cock prods at your slick entrance, "I don't know if I should be offended that you're this wet because of some clothes and fingering," he mutters. You couldn't respond to him even if you tried. Your mind just occupied with the idea of finally being filled by him.

"Cock drunk already huh?" He muses, meeting your gaze briefly before glancing down to watch himself split you open. His quiet moans being drowned out by your much, much more vocal ones. You're not sure you'll ever quite grow accustomed to his first thrust. Especially given the rush and your impatience, his slow push into you stings a little bit more more than usual but, the pain only fuels your arousal.

"Fuck," he groans and you're inclined to agree with his sentiment, "Always so wet and tight for me." If you could find the words you'd tell him the reason you're so tight is because of how big he is but, you're too preoccupied with trying to remain standing.

He's nestled so deeply inside of you when he finally bottoms out. His hips flush against yours and his tip kissing your cervix, quieter whimpers leave you with every throb and pulse of him inside of you. "Open," he grits into your ear, his fingers still slick with your wetness resting on your bottom lip. You open your mouth without much of a second thought, the slightly salty taste of your wetness flooding your taste buds and you realise very quickly why Joshua shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He pulls back only to thrust back into you without much mercy, your moans fortunately being muffled by his fingers. His heavy, lidded gaze takes in the way your drool around him, some of it dribbling past your lips while he continues to fuck into harshly and quickly. He's not sure how much time he has left before someone comes knocking so, he'd rather make this quick. He can take his time with you when you're at home.

You gag around his fingers slightly when he angles his thrusts marginally, smirking when he hits that spot inside of you that causes you grip him like a vice and nearly go limp in his arms. Joshua supports you through it all. Hitting that spot over and over again until overwhelmed tears trickle down your face and you're sure you could cum from this alone and, his muffled groans and grunts with every unforgiving intrusion.

"You know what your tears do to me, baby," he moans hoarsely, his thrusts stuttering slightly when he drinks in the combination of tears and spit smeared on your gorgeous face. All you can do is nod hurriedly. Telling him without telling him that you want it. You want him to cum.

"My precious cumslut of a girlfriend," he laughs breathlessly and without much humour, his pace picking up considerably and the sounds of your wetness and his heavy balls slapping against you ringing out obscenely throughout the room. "Always so greedy for my cum," he moans against your shoulder, his other hand hurriedly reaching between your thighs to rub frantic circles against your neglected clit.

Now you really are happy he had the foresight to make you gag on his fingers. You're not sure you could've silenced yourself even if you tried your utmost. The symphony of your choked noises of pleasure and Joshua's muffled ones join the increasing noises echoing throughout the room. Your walls tighten around him viciously, your toes tingling and even more tears springing forth from your eyes.

Josh cums first. A throaty groan of your name and a few curse words your only warning before you feel him pulse inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his warm cum flooding your awaiting pussy, his hips jerking into you sporadically and his hold on you almost bruising. His attempts to keep rubbing your clit proved fruitful because it doesn't take you long to tumble over the proverbial edge along with him. It takes a significant amount of conscious effort not to bite down on his fingers as your orgasm rocks your system. Josh moaning again as your walls spasm and clamp around his softening cock.

Once you'd ridden out the more intense parts of your climax, Josh removes his fingers from your mouth. Your shared, laboured breathing the only sounds that could be heard.

"If I knew you'd react like this to my outfit, I would have worn it sooner," he says with a chuckle that sounds far too full of himself. Not that he doesn't have a right to be but still. "You just look really good okay, god," you mutter once your voice finds you again. Cringing both from the scratchy quality of your voice and, Joshua slowly pulling out of you. Quickly putting your panties back in place. A surprised gasp flying from your lips when he pushes the fabric into you with two of his long fingers.

"Wouldn't want you to waste it," he says, his eyes heavy with want once again when they they find yours, "After all you worked so hard being my little cumslut. Who knows, maybe if you manage to not leak a drop I'll fill you up again."

You resent the way your body shudders but, you nod all the same, "I won't spill a drop, Shua."

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[pascalpvnk]

Pour Choices // You & I

pairing: bartender!joel x f!afab!reader

summary: Austin, Texas was never a dream destination for you, however your work trip there might’ve changed your perspective of the Lone Star State, and it absolutely was not work related.

word count: 6.6k words (oops…)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, smut (dubcon [both drank alcohol], handjob if you squint, oral [f receiving], fingering, unprotected p in v sex [wrap it up!], Joel has had a vasectomy, premature ejaculation, double creampie, alluding to aftercare), possibly ooc, no outbreak AU, Joel is 36 with no specified age for reader, reader described as a woman, use of she/her pronouns, minor body descriptions (reader described as having curves, reader has hair long enough to grasp/pin up, reader is shorter than Joel, he picks up reader for like half a second), time jumping (indicated by solid orange divider), religious euphemisms (?) from Joel (i know that man has religious trauma), alcohol consumption, food consumption

a/n: hello! I know this is a long time coming but she’s finally here. thank you for being patient with me during this writing process and thank you to those who helped and encouraged me! a special thanks to @delicaatefl0vver for beta reading and supporting and adding to my thots. welcome to the rebirth of my fanfic writing. I hope you enjoy xx (dividers by @/saradika)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Sat in the corner of the rustling bar, you were sipping on your Manhattan. The drink tasted medicinal, not how you’d usually prefer it. You had watched the young bartender pour heavy on the vermouth, but chose not to say anything. Red lipstick stained the rim of your glass with each sip of the cocktail. The whiskey mixed in and the maraschino cherry garnish were its only saving graces.

A low hanging light illuminated a warm hue across your features. You were surrounded by classic Texan bar decor and architecture; high ceiling rafters, support beams strung with fairy lights, the walls packed with framed posters of all varieties, the occasional beer branded neon sign, and license plates tacked up behind the bar. Two televisions sat flush against opposing walls, both playing a pregame show of Rangers highlights as they counted down to first pitch. The air was thick as the feet of the patrons shuffled around and chair legs scraped against the wood finished floors. Groups of friends, couples, and everyone between flooded through the doors, ushering themselves to an empty table or stool at the bar. Being there on a Friday night right as the outside rush hour died down was a bold choice, but you had one goal in mind.

The moment the music changed from country to rock and roll, you knew it was time to set yourself out to accomplish it.

The click of your high heels contrasted from the stomp of sneakers and cowboy boots. Glass in hand and head held high, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, you felt it in your throat. You sure as hell weren’t living up to your stoic, stone cold hearted reputation back home. It’s almost as though your heart thawed in the Texas heat. Though your heart changed with the state, your attire didn’t. You stuck out like a sore thumb among the other consumers in your black maxi dress and perfectly pinned up hair. Some eyes gazed towards you, but you were set on finding one pair in particular. The set of eyes that were darker than the coffee he brewed, but the same ones that looked like honey when the sun was setting. The eyes that were facing away from you at the bar as you found a stool. The ones that snapped up towards you with one word.

“Texas.”

You called for him like a melody. Your throat immediately felt dry as a lump formed. He either felt the same way you did or it was a one off fling. You were hoping it was the former. But…it had been two years since you met, so there was a decent chance he was the one that got away.

The way his muscles tensed under his tight Henley gave away that he recognized you simply from your voice. Those beautiful eyes met yours, and his jaw went a little slack, the corners of his mouth curved.

“Evenin’, Miss New York,” Joel drawled, leaning against the counter. “How are ya, darlin’?”

Joel’s mind was preoccupied before he had seen you the first time, filled with important nonsense that about drove him up the wall.

Gotta make the next schedule. What time is that birthday party Sarah wants t’go to? Wonder if Tommy would be willin’ to take her. No, he’s workin’ on a job site out of town. I need to find someone to cover part of my shift so I can take her. Gotta pay the rent for this month. Can’t keep running the bar if s’gonna be slow like this and that bastard won’t cough up his half of it. God dammit.

“Welcome in, what can I get for ya?” The southern man drawled absentmindedly, tossing a rag over his broad shoulder. The moment his eyes caught yours, his worries washed away. He was only interested in you and your big, beautiful eyes and bright, red lips.

“Whiskey on the rocks. Make it a double please,” you practically sang to him…or at least it sounded like music to his ears. Your ID slipped out of your billfold with ease, and you slid it across the bar as you took a seat. Joel examined the horizontally wide piece of plastic, deciding it was real, especially for a lady ordering a whiskey. A lady from New York, no less.

Joel took in your features for a moment, noticing the difference in your attire and even your accent compared to the other bar patrons. Your beauty was striking to him, making all of the women he’s seen come in flee his memory. He repeated your name over and over in his head, wanting to know how it felt on his tongue. To say he was intrigued would be the understatement of the year.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He poured a generous portion of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and added several cubes of ice, then slid it over to you with a smile. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bar, eyes lingering on your curves. "So, what brings you in here tonight? The Big Apple too small for ya?"

“Work,” you responded simply, taking a sip from your drink. He watched as your eyes raked down his frame. There was no visible emotion behind them, so he was unsure if you were checking him out or simply giving him a once over.

Joel’s eyes on the other hand drank in your features, not even attempting to hide his gaze. It lingered across your chest and the way your dress contoured your breasts so perfectly. He was damn near drooling at the sight of you taking down your whiskey better than he would. Your face remained expressionless, zero signs of your mouth twisting in distaste. The simple action had him hooked.

He cleared his throat and began polishing some glasses as he continued to have small talk with you.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, lining the cups along the bar as he shined them one by one.

“Flight just landed. I checked into my hotel and dropped off my stuff. Wanted to take a walk around to see what this city has to offer and I landed here,” you shrugged, taking another drink of your whiskey. “Nice place, are you the owner?”

“Co-owner, yeah,” Joel chuckled. “So I take it, your work stuff starts tomorrow? Or are you drinking on the job?”

“The former,” you smiled softly. “I’m not trying to get fired, they barely trusted me to come out here in the first place.”

His head nodded gingerly. He couldn’t quite tell if you were shooting him down or just quiet after a long day. He wanted to know more. Wanted as much information that he could get from you without coming off as a creep. Deciding to take a minor risk, he continued conversing with you.

“What kind of work are ya doing all the way out here, hm?” He asked politely, restocking the freshly polished glasses back on their designated shelves.

“My uh…my peer, I suppose, is on maternity leave and she represents most of our buildings in Texas. I’ve been doing most of the work over the phone but one of the Austin buildings required a visit. A lot of incident reports to go through.”

The whiskey in your glass was almost gone and he could tell it was opening you up a little bit. First time in the whole conversation you said more than what his question asked for.

“Darlin’, that’s some big wig stuff, and yet you make it sound so inconspicuous,” he drawled, a low rumble of laughter rolling from his chest. “What field are you in? Or is it top secret?”

“Oh! I work in HR,” you let out a small laugh. “Probably should’ve started with that.”

He smirked at how you fumbled over yourself, admiring the way your smile folded the skin around your eyes and exposed a dimple. He could definitely tell he was breaking down your stone wall. His eyes took you in once more. Your lip prints stained red on the once clean glass, immediately grabbing his attention. Arousal shot through his body, directing into his pants. That’s not something he knew he was attracted to.

“Need another, ma’am?” He asked politely and swallowed hard, attempting to look anywhere but your chest. You accepted his offer and opened a tab. Joel was thanking his lucky stars that the universe brought such a beautiful woman into his bar that night. Thanking fate for having him cover this shift.

“Well, I’ll leave you alone, miss. Just holler if you need another drink or y’wanna close out. My name’s Joel,” he smiled with his boyish charm, flipping his towel back over his shoulder before reluctantly diverting his attention to another customer in need.

You stuck around for a bit, snacking on peanuts and watching the baseball game running on the television. Joel felt your eyes burn into the back of his head as he worked.

It was innocent to start. He popped tops off of beers, poured shots, and shook cocktails all while his cheeks burned pink under the heat of your gaze. Then he intentionally reached up to the top shelf more often, flexing his muscles and letting his shirt ride up his back to grab your attention again and again. It became increasingly difficult for you to peel your eyes off of him the more you drank.

And he noticed.

A couple hours passed, and before you knew it, the clock was nearing midnight. Joel walked around the bar, going to each empty table and wiping them thoroughly. He restocked everything as most of the small crowd filed out. He took a look at you from the front door, admiring the curves that were hardly hidden under your snug dress as you watched the TV mindlessly.

“Well darlin’,” he began as he approached the bar again. “I don’t know what time you have to work in the morning but it’s getting late. Wanna close out your tab?”

“I s’pose so,” you chuckled, copying his accent a little by accident. Your tired, drunken smile made his heart flutter.

A small smile plastered itself across Joel’s face as he ran your card. He let it process, grabbing both receipts and scribbling something on them.

“Can I call you a cab, sweetheart? They aren’t driving around all the time like they do back home for you,” he offered, handing you the merchant copy receipt. He crossed out all of the options to tip, just requiring your signature. You tried to protest, but he silenced your argument.

“Yeah,” you hiccuped. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Joel examined you cleaning up your peanut shell debris as he called for the cab. You signed the receipt, and slid his copy back across the bar. He noticed your subtle smile as you noticed ten digits written neatly on the customer copy.

The line went dead when the conversation concluded, and Joel put the phone back on its charger. He noticed how you folded the receipt paper and tucked it safely into your clutch along with your debit card.

“Cab should be here in ‘bout ten minutes. Um,” he cleared his throat. “If ya need someone to recommend restaurants or if you want a tour of any sort, I hope that’ll come in handy.”

Joel gestured towards your clutch, the current home of his phone number. He wanted to ask you out, so so badly, but you were intoxicated and he didn’t want to give a bad impression. If it was meant to be, you’d take the initiative, at least that’s what he told himself.

“I bet it will,” you openly flirted. Joel knew better than to return the sentiment, but it was so damn difficult. His mama would’ve smacked him upside the head if he had, and that was enough to stop him. All he offered was a smirk before turning away and gathering dishes to be brought back to the pile of other used utensils.

“D’ya need a water or anything?” Joel asked, already reaching for a clean cup. You nodded and he filled the glass first with ice, followed with water and a straw. Laying a napkin on the counter, Joel gently set your water down with a close lipped smile.

“Thanks for stopping in, darlin’,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the rock music he had playing. “Get back to that hotel of yours safely, alright? Don’t wanna hear about Miss New York on the news. They never show anything positive nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you chuckled, gathering your things to leave after drinking most of the glass. He took these moments to really take you in, dramatically telling himself that this could be the last time he’d ever see you. Last time he’d witness your cherry stained, stunning, yet intoxicated smile, your soft skin, and those gorgeous eyes.

His admiration was interrupted by the honk erupting from the impatient taxi driver’s vehicle outside. You turned on your heel, offering a ‘goodnight, Texas!’ before walking out the door. Joel scrubbed a hand across his beard, huffing a self deprecating laugh and a muttered ‘shit’ before continuing to close up shop. He beat himself up internally while cleaning the dishes until his phone buzzed. He dug the device from his pocket, flipping it open to see a text from an unknown number.

“Didn’t end up on the news. What a bummer! Maybe next time ;)”

Joel smiled to himself, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He finished his closing tasks and made a little to-go Shirley Temple mocktail for his daughter. Before exiting the building for the night, he turned off the glowing ‘Pour Choices’ sign and locked the door behind him. His smile faded as he left his bar behind, remembering his life’s reality and his responsibilities. Those stressors sat heavy once more upon his shoulders until he fell into a deep slumber that night.

Your first full day of work was exhausting to say the least, and the small hangover you suffered did not help one bit. And whoever decided you should come to Austin in August had become your own mortal enemy. You’re used to your mild summers back home, not sweating so much that your clothes stick to you uncomfortably. But the thing that bothered you the most was the imminent, distracting thought of Joel, especially as the sun retired behind the horizon. The way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut around his thick biceps and how they flexed every time he mixed up drinks. You had watched him use his charm to get tips practically thrown at him by the other patrons, he really put that handsome grin to work. 

You were alone in your hotel. There wasn’t a scheduled dinner with your team, so you sat in bed watching Scrubs reruns and eating what constituted your dinner: cheese, crackers and pepperoni slices you picked up from the grocery store. A little disassembled charcuterie board if you will.

Beckoning your attention, your phone buzzed against your nightstand. The caller ID had your heart pounding against your chest. Joel. It was almost like he could read your mind.

“Hello?” You started, wiping the crumbs off of your fingers and lowering the volume on the show. 

“Evenin’,” he drawled out your name. His voice came across gruffer and frankly hotter over the phone than in person. The way it fed directly into your ears had a chill running down your spine.

“Night off?” You asked nonchalantly, a sad attempt of remaining mysterious, knowing if he was sat next to you, you’d melt into a puddle.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing for a moment and chuckling quietly. “Sorry for callin’ late. I’d text but that would’a taken me a decade. How was today? Hope that whiskey didn’t ruin your morning.”

The smile you sported grew in size. It felt nice having a normal conversation that wasn’t work related…even if it was with someone you just met.

“It was good! Busy but good. I had a headache but nothing I couldn’t handle. It’s stupid hot here though, didn’t appreciate that,” you hummed to yourself in thought. “Nothing much happened, lots of meetings. Now I’m just hanging out in my hotel. How about you?”

“Same here, nothin’ much. Are ya doing anythin’ or just wallowin’ in your loneliness?” He teased, testing the waters a little. You wish you could see his face. See whether he was sporting a shit eating grin or if he was gnawing on his lip nervously.

“Ha-ha,” you shot back, pressing your cell between your cheek and shoulder to stand up and settle near the window. “I’m watching TV and eating my nutritious dinner of cheese, crackers and pepperoni, thank you very much.”

“Dinner?” He scoffed. “Now I think you need'ta hustle on over here and have a real meal. You can’t possibly be callin’ all ‘f those HR shots with that diet, hm?”

You gotta give it to him, you aren’t that smooth on a whim, that takes practice. Looking out at the Austin skyline, you snickered to yourself and leaned against the window’s frame. 

“C’mon, I have almost all of my food groups in front of me, I don’t think that’s too horrible,” you retaliated jokingly. “What do you have to offer, huh?”

“Well you got me there, darlin’. I do have wine if you wanna round out your meal,” he offered. You could hear faint tapping coming from the line. He was nervous. 

Considering the proposal, you decided to take it, despite your early morning and full day approaching. Joel offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to pay for another cab and you gratefully accepted. You quickly got changed back out of your sleepwear into something almost equally as comfy and perhaps a bit more revealing. 

So you find yourself sat on Joel Miller’s couch. The ride was fine, you chatted like before, but with a bit more direct flirting. You observed his spaces. His truck was simple, a little, beat up pickup, but you were sure it got his work done. There were scuff marks from tennis shoes on his dash. Your mind wandered as you imagined if they were from a friend or former lover, but you didn’t let it bother you.  

There was a little pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The smell of its woody scent combined with his warm, leathery cologne and a hint of Irish Spring all flooded your senses. And god, he didn’t just smell good, he looked so good.

Joel looked perfect in the driver’s seat, his biceps straining against his smooth skin as he gripped the wheel, prominent veins popping through his forearms. Looked so cozy in his small kitchen, pouring both of you a hefty glass of rosé. His hands enveloped his cup entirely as he brought it to his plush lips. The way they framed his teeth when he smiled down at you gave you heart palpitations.

And even sitting comfortably in the corner of his L-shaped couch, Joel continued to look amazing. His leg was crossed over the other, creating the perfect shelf on his knee for his wine. Those arms stretched far across the back of the couch as he fidgeted with a loose string stuck on the cushion. Everything about him screamed disciplined. The way his spaces were mostly neat, organized and decently decorated added to your observation. He belonged here, and it seemed like he worked hard to get the things he earned.

The casual facade you had faded away the longer you chatted about your lives and sipped on your glasses. Topics like work and hobbies came into conversation, and you learned that Joel liked to play with guitar and sing a little—only when he was alone of course. Then you began talking about more personal matters, like your relationship statuses. 

“You’re kidding!” You exclaimed, feeling warm from the wine in your system. “You don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

Joel chuckled and shook his head down at the couch. You watched as he observed the cushions-worth of space between you two. By that point, you were fully turned ninety degrees to face him in conversation, your legs tucked comfortably under you. Your face felt hot as you wielded the half empty, stemless wine glass.  

“What about the kid in your pictures? Is she your niece or something?” You were referring to the framed photos both nailed to the wall and decorating the table in his entryway. Most of them contained himself and the child, whether she was celebrating with a soccer ball and a trophy or blowing out candles on a cake, her wild curls spilling every which way from her party hat.

“Nah, she’s all mine. My Sarah turned fourteen a few weeks ago,” he smiled to himself, making your heart clench and pound against the confines of your ribcage. The proud look he had on his face told you about everything you needed to know about his relationship with his daughter.

“Fourteen? You don’t seem old enough to have a teenager,” you chuckle. “Where is she tonight? Seems like you got the house to yourself.”

“Why I'm flattered. She’s got a friend’s birthday party sleepover thing. That’s why I had to take the night off. I’m her personal chauffeur, of course,” Joel offered a curtsey jokingly.

Your smile widened as you brought your now second glass of rosé up to sip once more. You don’t care to ask about Sarah’s mother, it was a personal matter and possibly a sensitive subject. 

A comfortable silence fell between you as you looked at one another. You watched the automatic rise and fall of his chest and the way his cheeks burned from your gaze. His chocolate eyes bore into yours, melting your heart without even trying. His exterior was gruff and masculine but he had proven time and time again that he was probably one of the kindest men you have met. Must be that southern charm and hospitality, but man was it addicting. 

“What?” He barely asked above a whisper, copying your actions with his wine. His attempt to hide his smile behind his clear cup obviously failed. His blush spread down his neck and you could only imagine if it went any farther down. Your thoughts of Joel were beginning to become tainted by your blooming arousal. You wanted him. On top of you, under you, you’d take anything and the growing wetness pooling in your panties was evidence of that. 

“Can I be blunt, Joel?” You grinned as you sunk a bit further into the cushion against your side. He responded with a hummed ‘mhm’ so you’d continue, bringing his hand back into his lap. The fabric of his joggers barely contained his strong thighs, making it more and more difficult to contain your urge to see what else lied beneath his pants.

“I really wanna kiss you,” you admitted cheekily, fairly certain that he was thinking the same thing. 

“Oh, do ya now?” He smirked, leaning over to pluck your glass from your grasp and put it safely on his coffee table along with his own.

“I think you’re a little mind reader,” Joel continued. “‘Cause I was thinkin’ the same thing. Bet those pretty lips are real soft.” His hand found your waist after you confirmed he had consent as he guided you onto his lap. You hummed contently as you draped your arms over his shoulders, toying with the stray, chestnut curls at his nape. 

“What happened to Mr. Shy Guy, huh?” You teased, letting his calloused hands explore the expanse of your back as your lips ghosted over his.

“Not shy, just polite, sweetheart,” he rasped before closing the gap between you two. His palms were flush against your lower back, radiating heat through the thin material of your shirt. 

You melted into him, bodies pressed as close as possible without your knees sinking between the couch cushions. Lips slotted together and hands wandered as you filled all of your senses with Joel. His tongue was stained with a familiar smoky taste, which was definitely not coming from the wine

“Why do you taste like whiskey?” Your mouth formed a smile against his matching one. His hand cupped your cheek as a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.

“Had some before I called ya,” he admitted bashfully. “Doesn’t matter now.”

In an instant, he was kissing you once more with increased passion, making you completely forgo the subject. His tongue flicked into your mouth, teasing the delicate skin on the inside of your lips. He gripped at your hips, trying to pull you closer to him but your legs protested against his furniture.

“Scoot forward,” you mumbled against him. And he did what he was told. His hips shifted forward, granting you more room to sit directly on his lap. Sighs were drawn from both of you as you settled back into each other, his cock already half hard under you. Your fingers messed with the hair behind his ears, earning a pleased moan from him.

“This doesn’t have to go anywhere if you don’t wan’ it to,” he panted between kisses. Just above a whisper, you uttered, ‘I want it,’ and Joel’s hands took it as permission to explore further down your body, palming at your ass through your shorts.

A whimper slipped between your lips into Joel’s, and he swallowed it whole. He pressed your body closer to his, your clothed sex dragging over his sweatpants. His cock twitched up in response to your mouth finding his jaw, his short beard scratching against you.

“Lemme take care of you,” you mused, bringing your hands up the sides of his face. He relaxed back into the couch, his blunt nails pushing under your shorts into the meat of your bare thighs.

You started by kissing his lips once more, then the two prominent patches of missing hair on his chin, and made your way down to his throat. His adam's apple bobbed under your touch as pants grew tighter on him.

“Knew you’d have the best lips, fuck,” he mumbled as you licked up the side of his neck, his pulse racing under your tongue. “Can’t wait to feel your pretty pussy ‘round my cock, sweetheart.”

“Patience, handsome,” you whispered into his ear, your breath sending chills through his body. He let go of your legs as you bunched his shirt into your palms, sitting up to help remove it. Hair scattered sparsely on his chest, pausing on his upper stomach only to come back thicker as it disappeared into his boxers.

Your palms dragged down his torso, skimming over his nipples and ribs as he naturally recoiled from the stimulation. You gently kissed and sucked at his collarbone so it could be hidden away under his shirt. Color rose to the surface of his skin the more you worked at it, flattening your tongue against it once you decided your mark was left properly.

Joel was breathing heavily under you, his hands snaking under your shirt to your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled through your bralette, becoming unbearably hard the moment Joel started running his thumbs over them. He gently pushed your shirt and bra above your tits, leaning forward to bring one to his mouth as his hand toyed with the other. His tongue lapped your skin, rounding the hardened nipple and sucking it back slightly. An image of him doing the same to your clit had your eyes rolling back with pleasure.

“Joel,” you mewled as he switched breasts. He spread his saliva around your areola as he picked up his ministrations on the other. A groan vibrated against your skin as your nails raked down his happy trail.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you continued, holding onto the waistbands of his pants and underwear. His unused hand covered yours entirely, pushing it down to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip weeping with precum. Never in your life had you seen a dick so big before, and you couldn’t wait for it to split you in half.

“I won’t last a minute in your mouth, sweet girl,” he drawled, reaching back up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Don’t wanna come before you.”

Spitting onto your fingertips, you mixed it with the slick seeping from his tip then dragged it down his shaft, squeezing it in your palm on the way back up. Joel groaned into your neck. He wedged his hands back under your top, lifting it over your head and forcing your hand to leave his cock.

“Need’ta taste you first,” he muttered, his amber irises completely eclipsed by his pupils. Joel removed you from his lap and laid you down onto the couch. You watched as he settled between your legs and hooked his thick fingers into your bottoms, licking his lips. Raising your hips, he pulled everything off of you, leaving you bare. Cool air hit your glistening pussy, sending a shiver up your spine. You whined out his name after he stared at you for a moment.

“What?” He cooed, smoothing his hands over your inner thighs. “Wan’ me to touch ya, hm? Fuck you with my fingers ‘n stretch that pretty pussy out? Maybe suck on your clit. S’that what you want, darlin’?”

You nod your head furiously, dying with anticipation to have his hands, mouth, something on you. Wordlessly, your foot hooked around the back of his leg as you attempted to pull him closer to you.

“Ah ah,” he tsked. “I think ya gotta ask for it, honey. Ask for it nicely.”

“Fuck,” you whined with desperation. You could feel your arousal dripping down your ass and ultimately onto the couch. “Please fill me up, touch me, taste me, whatever you want.”

“Good, so good f’me. Open up,” he encouraged, slotting his first two digits between your lips. He spread them on each side of your tongue. Saliva collected on his thick fingers as you swirled your tongue around them in figure eights. A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest.

“Yeah I’m gonna put my cock in this pretty mouth next time, baby. Feels perfect on my fingers,” he grumbled. His fingers came out of your mouth with a pop, a string of spit connecting him to you. 

Joel finally slipped his fingers through your swollen folds, teasing your entrance and collecting more slick. His fingertips circled lightly around your clit, drawing a broken moan from your throat. His free hand tapped against your hip, signaling you to raise them with an ‘up.’ He grabbed a throw pillow and positioned it under you. You relaxed your already trembling legs, and he had barely even touched you.

He settled onto his stomach, spreading your legs apart as far as they’d go. A pointer finger breached your entrance as he kissed the seam where your thigh and pussy came together. Soft moans escaped you as you carded your fingers through his curls. His smug eyes met yours as his tongue moved everywhere but your clit. He looked better than ever between your legs, and you didn’t know that could be possible. His teasing was deserved for what you were doing previously, but it was agonizing.

“Please, Joel,” you groaned. “Please gimme more, I need you.”

Obliging to your request, Joel added another finger into your cunt, curling them both and stroking your g-spot expertly. All of the air left your lungs the moment his flattened tongue finally found your clit. Joel’s groan vibrated throughout your entire pussy, adding to each sensation deliciously. It didn’t take much more for your legs to start shaking and squeezing his head between your thighs, a hot sensation bubbling in your lower belly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop,” you cried, grasping Joel’s hair much tighter than before. He suckled your clit and flicked his tongue over it with a moan, sending you flying over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and he rode you through your high. He kissed your trembling thighs until they relaxed, his unmoving fingers still stuffed inside you.

“God, you’re even sexier when you come, sugar. Taste even sweeter too,” he hummed, shifting himself up your body until his lips found yours again. He tasted still of whiskey but with a mix of your arousal.

Joel brought his now soaked fingers back into your mouth to replace his tongue, urging you to suck all of your spend off of them. You hummed around his digits and wrapped your quivering legs around his waist.

“And you were preachin’ to me about patience,” he teased, removing his fingers and stroking his cock a couple times. He was sitting up and resting on his heels, looking like pure sex. His proportions were perfect, he was broad and you’d happily let him crush you under his weight. 

“It’s hard to be patient when you look at me like that,” you muse, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Joel snickered quietly, dragging his nails over your inner thighs. Goosebumps followed behind his light touch and your legs twitched when he got close enough to your sensitive core.

“So,” Joel began, settling comfortably on top of you and kissing your jaw. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested last n’ I’ve had a vasectomy. But I’ll gladly get a condom if ya want me to.”

“Hmm, a gentleman,” you grinned, your fingers finding their way back into his hair as you enjoyed his affection. “I’m clean and more than okay without it.”

Joel slotted his cock into your slit with a smirk, groaning at the new sensation. His tip nudged at your clit with each pass, earning moans from both parties. 

“Almost came all over this couch with you clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like that, honey,” he drawled. “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

You gave him a reassuring kiss as you wedged your hand down between you two. Lining up his tip with your entrance, you watched as he disappeared into your welcoming cunt. His face pressed into your neck as he slowly sank into you, anchoring himself with his hands planted on your waist and thigh. Strings of profanities left him as he stretched you out, the pressure you felt quickly morphing into pleasure. 

“Shit,” you hissed when he bottomed out. “Feels so good, Joel.”

You urged him to continue, and he complied. Starting slow, he pulled out halfway and pushed back in to test the waters. The drag of your core had his toes curling. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t last long. His cock swelled in you after a few minutes as he panted into your neck. 

“Fuck, fuck I’m sorry,” he grunted.

“S’okay, come for me, Joel. Please,” you consoled him, wrapping your legs around his hips tighter. He spilled into you, the sticky fluid coating your inner walls. Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back as he caught his breath.

His face emerged from the crook of your neck, flush and sweaty. He tried apologizing once more but you shushed him. Your lips met again as you grasped his dampened curls, pulling at his locks harder than before. Cock stiffening up again, Joel resumed thrusting into you slowly. A squelching sound emitted from your pussy as his pace quickened.

“Joel,” you gasped, tangling yourself around him tighter. He took it as an opportunity to scoop you up and change positions, sitting on the couch and giving you the freedom to ride him. 

“Wan’ you comin’ on my cock, beautiful,” he moaned. His calloused fingertips circled your clit as he fucked his load deeper into you. You bounced on him, his cock spearing you. The tip hit your g-spot with each thrust. Stars sparkled in your vision as you clenched down on him hard.

“C’mon, use my cock, make yourself come. That’s it, fuck.”

His hips bucked up to meet yours halfway, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout his living room. You were a moaning mess, chanting his name haphazardly. Your walls clamped down around him and milked any remaining cum from him as you both reached your second peaks.

“Christ,” he groaned, stilling inside of you. The mixture of your fluids seeped from your fluttering hole. Joel smoothed his palms over your sweat slick back, peppering kisses along your shoulders and collarbone. Praises flew from his mouth like a prayer and you were his goddess, all his to worship.

Joel used his sweatpants to catch any leakage as his softened cock slipped out from you. He took his time with you, helping you regain your composure with more kisses and lingering touches. You followed him to his room where he properly cleaned you up and gave you a Texas Longhorns shirt and boxer shorts.

“You’re more than welcome t’stay,” Joel offered. “Or I can drive ya back. Your choice, sweetheart.”

Your arms snaked up and around his shoulders, stretching yourself up on your tiptoes. A smile crept onto your face as Joel held you steady by your ass. You peeked over at his unmade bed with only two measly pillows, one of them crumpled up in the middle of his bed. A shy smile adorned his face as you refocused on him. He was going to be the death of you.

“Set an alarm and take me to bed, cowboy.”

Late into the following evening, you found yourself back in Pour Choices. A lingering soreness twinged between your legs the entire day. You weren’t there to drink. You wanted Joel.

He started his usual greeting until he realized you had stepped through the doors, another black dress clinging to your body and lips stained a deeper shade of red than before.

“Hey, darlin’,” he smiled breathlessly. You sauntered over to the bar, leaning in close and cutting to the chase in a seductive whisper.

“I’m gonna sit in the corner and wait for you to close up. Wanna return the favor from last night.”

Joel can confidently say that was his quickest close of his career, and you can just as confidently state that you successfully returned the favor, covering that poor man with crimson lip prints. He’d never complain about the physical reminder of you, using it as inspiration on the nights he craved you while you were away. He never thought he’d go from having everything from you for a couple weeks to having nothing for over a year.

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna remember me,” you smiled softly, a twinge of sadness in your eyes. He chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a new glass and some ice.

“I could never forget you, sugar,” he smirked, grabbing a top shelf whiskey and pouring it into the glass. The crackle of the ice drew your attention. You were always a sucker for whiskey. He remembered.

“On the house, darlin’. Want me to take your other drink? Doesn’t seem like you enjoyed it,” Joel pointed to the condensation lined cup with the half dranken Manhattan. “I know you’re not the sipping type of gal.”

“Yeah, thank you,” you smiled brighter as he took away the used cup. “Y’all don’t make Manhattans like they do back home,” you jabbed, taking a big gulp of the chilled whiskey. Those familiar lip prints stamped on the glass.

“But,” you continued, glancing at his bare ring finger. You observed the sprouting grays in his sideburns and deepened creases on his face, seeing the effect that the last two years had on him. “Y’all have something that New York doesn’t.”

You traced the rim of the glass, trying to pick up any emotion from his expressionless face. He did however crack a small smirk at your comment and leaned against the bar with both hands. Suddenly it felt like everyone else disappeared and it was just you and him in the moment.

“Hm, and what’s that, sweetheart?” He leaned closer and replied softly, but just loud enough for only you to hear. 

“You, Joel.”

to keep up to date on upcoming parts, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications. thank you for reading!! <3

[arsenic-catnep]

You're Not In Control

Strade x GN! Reader

TW: force feeding, starvation, vomit, torture, fingernail pulling... Strade is a warning in of himself.

A/N: thank you to my beautiful wife for the German translations, I hope I used them right. Also this is the first thing I've ever written for Strade and I'm still not super confident I got him right so... Be nice please.

Thinking about being held captive by Strade.

You had earned the privilege of leaving the basement. (with the shock collar on of course)

You were defiant and he liked that, he liked that he hadn't entirely broken you.

Strade noticed that you didn't eat much, and slowly you started eating nothing at all.

He didn't care at first, Ren didn't eat much when he was first brought up from the basement either.

As it continued he got irritated and realized that it wasn't just anxiety keeping you from eating. You were starving yourself intentionally.

Strade didn't like that. For many reasons, but mainly because he didn't have control.

He acted like a stubborn dad at first, telling you that you couldn't leave the table until you finished your food.

"Alright, schatz. We're going to sit here until you can behave and eat." his voice dripped with venom.

Your defiance struck a fire in him when you just sat and stared at the plate.

It was decent food, steak that'd been cut up for you, green beans and potatoes. By all means it was a good meal.

But you were stubborn and refused to relenquish total control to that psychopath.

Strade sent Ren off to bed, and sat at the table all night with you. Trying to break you.

It didn't work.

The next night, he started to try and beat you into eating.

"Wenn du es nicht anders willst, bitte. We'll do it your way then." You should have been scared, and part of you was, but all that bubbled up was anger.

He removed his belt and struck you all along your back.

Dark welts formed underneath the thin shirt you were wearing, and you dropped to the floor after a few minutes of endless beating.

He kicked your ribs, the steel toe of his boot slamming into your fragile bones. You tried not to cry out, but sobs tore through your throat despite the effort. The final kick to you stomach was so hard that you threw up bile.

"Kleine Zicke! You fucking brat!" He barked, and you spent the night in the basement.

That didn't break you either.

The third night he tied your wrists and ankles to the chair and tried force feeding you.

"Mund auf. Open." he spoke like a steel knife.

Each time you spit it out, he stabbed the fork into your arm. You still didn't break.

He then put a ring gag in your mouth and tried to force a protein drink down your throat, you threw that up as well.

On the fourth night, he tied you to the chair again, but this time brought a pair of pliers up from the basement.

Each time you spit the food out, he'd pluck a fingernail from your hand.

He ran out of fingernails to remove, and you still hadn't swallowed a single bite and there was blood all over the floor.

A needless mess.

The fifth night was the final straw.

Strade had you and Ren sit at the table, he placed a plate of food in front of you and said that Ren wasn't getting food until you eat.

The look in your eyes excited him, it was defiant as always but it held a look of pleading.

A look that said "this isn't about him, leave him alone"

The three of you sat for hours, and it wasn't until you heard the sound of Ren's stomach growl that you finally gave in.

You took a bite of food, then looked to Strade. He just motioned for you to continue. By the third or fourth bite you realized that he was going to make you finish the whole plate before feeding Ren.

Once the plate was polished off, you dropped the fork abruptly. The sound of the metal clanging on the porcelain made Ren jump, and Strade just laughed then clapped his hands together.

"Sehr gut. That wasn't so hard now was it?" The smile on his face made you want to lash out.

You gave him that same fiery look as usual, but at least Ren got to eat.

[ofcrowsanddragons]

Okay so I have this head canon that Remi knits. And it didn’t quite make the cut for my long fic but I feel like he has an emotional reaction the first time he sees Lucanis knitting. So if you’re down a fic where Lucanis and Davrin are still at odds but maybe that happens and Lucanis notices and tries to make an overture.

So first off: I can't read. I wrote this whole thing and then I went back and read your prompt.

This different version has background Davrin x fem!Rook, with Rook being the one who (currently) knits. General shenanigans/character study/fluff, takes place post-Weisshaupt, with Today Could Be The Last in mind.

Out of Spite (Davrin & Lucanis)

“So, uh, Rook appreciated the yarn you got her,” says Davrin as he enters the kitchen.

Lucanis is sitting in a chair in the corner, and the assassin hums in response. “It was no trouble,” he says, his own hands engaged in the process of knitting what looks like a sock. A completed sock already sits on the side table in front of him. “I was in the area for supplies anyway, and she had mentioned what she was short on.”

Davrin narrows his eyes at the assassin. The overflowing basket of fine wool that Rook had found in her quarters didn't sound like an afterthought to him.

“Careful,” he says, nodding at the sock. “If you need two hands for that, you aren't constantly imbibing coffee like you usually do.”

“If I fall asleep,” says Lucanis calmly, “Then Spite can test my reflexes by throwing the knitting needles at you. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

The casual reference to the demon gets Davrin’s hackles up, and he tamps down on his automatic response when he sees the assassin smirking. Like he’s going to let the infuriating fucker win that easily.

Davrin strides across the kitchen to put together a plate of cheese and a glass of water for himself, feeling Lucanis's wary eyes on him.

“It's something to do,” says Lucanis, filling the quiet, “And it's decent dexterity training. If I'm going to be awake, I might as well be useful.”

It's a contrast how the hunter is more deliberate in his own training, and Davrin knows exactly how much food and sleep are required to fuel staying on that knife’s edge that keeps him sharpest. Rook often needs them to head through the Eluvian at a moment's notice, so he’s careful not to run himself ragged with training. Meanwhile, the assassin is either training, doing busywork, or brooding angrily into the middle distance at all hours of the day.

By that logic, he's a liability in the field.

“Sure,” says Davrin, raising a cheese knife to point at the socks, “But do those really match your outfit?”

Lucanis allows a secretive little smile to cross his face. “We trek through the wetlands on a regular basis, getting water in our boots. This blend of wool repels water and dries almost instantly. If the socks are well-made, they'll prevent blisters as well. I don't trust anything I buy quite so well.”

By the time Davrin sits down at the kitchen table, Lucanis is finishing up the second sock and tidying up his workspace. By the time Davrin is halfway through the meal, Lucanis is dropping the pair of socks in front of Davrin’s plate.

“You're in the Hossberg Wetlands even more often than Rook is,” Lucanis explains, and Davrin can almost see a hint of purple in his eyes. “It's important for the team to be well-equipped.”

Davrin presses his lips into a thin line, thinking better of his first, reflexive response. Before he can come up with a second one, the assassin is out the door and heading to the library.

The Warden studies the socks. Lucanis had been handling them with his bare hands, so it was unlikely this was a prank involving some kind of super-assassin itching powder. The Warden-blue base colour is interspersed with swirls of the orange Davrin favours, so he really should have seen this coming.

He leans back, wondering how one guy can be this much of an asshole by being nice. Lucanis may have won this round, but the assassin won't be laughing when Davrin has his revenge.

[moodymelanist]

once bitten (and twice shy) chapter three

happy Valentine's Day y'all! I've had such a blast running @sjmromanceweek and I hope you've all been enjoying the amazing fics coming out this week 🩷

Summary: Nesta ends up in a snow tube with Cassian. It goes exactly as you'd expect.

Read on AO3 here!

Nesta eyed her friends once they all sat down for breakfast, immediately noticing Emerie’s hickies and the way Gwyn couldn’t stop releasing happy little sighs between bites of her cereal. She’d been asleep by the time they’d both come home last night, and judging by the looks on both their faces, that had been a wise decision. “You two seem happy with yourselves.” 

“Why thank you, Nesta,” Gwyn replied. “I won’t speak for Emerie, but I’m happy with how last night went.”

“Trust me, me too,” Emerie agreed, bringing her hand up and tracing her fingers across the side of her neck where the worst of the hickies were. “Did things go okay with Cassian?”

“Cassian was fine,” Nesta answered with a roll of her eyes. 

“Oh he’s fine alright,” Gwyn responded, snickering. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Gwyneth,” Nesta told her primly. As attractive as Cassian may have been — and Nesta could at least admit that — she just didn’t have the time to deal with whatever can of worms that smirk would inevitably open. “We talked for a bit, and then I went home.”

“I don’t know, Nesta,” Emerie chimed in, teasing. “You were already in bed when we got home. Who knows what you and Cassian got into on your own.”

“A short conversation,” Nesta maintained. “Seriously. Nothing happened.”

Nesta endured another few minutes of teasing, and eventually once that died down, she raised her voice and said, “So what are we doing today?”

Gwyn cheerfully announced that today was the day they’d be going to the nearest ski resort so they could finally cross snow tubing off their winter vacation bucket list. Nesta hadn’t been snow tubing since she was a little kid, so she was actually looking forward to racing her friends down the slopes. Once they were all suitably bundled up for the cold, Nesta followed Emerie and Gwyn out to the car so they could make the drive to the resort. It was only half an hour away, and while there were decent crowds, it thankfully wasn’t so crowded that it would take forever to enjoy the snow. 

Nesta’s bladder decided it hated her at this exact moment, so while Emerie and Gwyn split off to make sure their passes were good and to find out more about the snow tubing options, she headed inside to find a bathroom. Thankfully the line wasn’t too bad, and she managed to use the bathroom without getting stuck with what felt like the million and one zippers she had on these damn snow pants. She made sure to wash her hands and dry them thoroughly before putting her snow gloves back on, and when she headed back outside, she took a nice, long deep breath.

It was a beautiful, winter day out. The sun was shining, the snow was crunching perfectly under Nesta’s boots, and—

And Cassian was fucking here.

“Nes? Is that you?” Cassian called out the second he noticed her. He was dressed in some serious snow gear, and he had some reflective snow goggles balanced on the top of his head that should have made him look dumb, but he was clearly having such a good time that he managed to make them look good. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, or maybe it was from the slopes he’d just finished hitting; he was carrying a snowboard in his arms that was clearly loved.

“What are you doing here?” Nesta asked with a heavy, put-upon sigh. Her best chance of escape had been leaving before he’d even noticed her, but clearly that ship had sailed. “And don’t call me that.”

Cassian shifted his snowboard up in his arms with a grin. “What’s it look like I’m doing here, sweetheart?”

“Ruining my vacation,” she retorted, deadpan. She didn’t bother to fight him on the nickname this time; she could already tell he’d just keep coming up with more of them like a magician with those never-ending pieces of fabric tied together.

“Weird way to say snowboarding, but okay,” he replied with a chuckle. “This place was the main reason we picked our Airbnb. We hit the slopes yesterday before dinner, and we’ll probably be back again one last time before we head home — as long as that’s okay with you, of course.”

Nesta just rolled her eyes. “You’re a grown man, Cassian. You don’t need my permission to do things.”

“Yeah, but what can I say?” Cassian stared at her in a way that made her go hot all over, and it had nothing to do with the several layers of thermal clothing she had on. “I like when beautiful women tell me what to do.”

Nesta was saved from having to reply to that by Azriel and Mor making their appearances, complete with another snowboard and a set of skis. Mor had on a cute, dark blue skiing ensemble this time, while Azriel was clad in what Nesta was coming to recognize as his usual all-black. 

“Hey, Nesta!” Mor said with a wide grin. Her cheeks were flushed prettily from the cold, too, and wow was Emerie was a lucky woman. “Are you here by yourself?”

“No,” Nesta said back. She already knew where this was going; resistance was clearly futile when the universe seemed so hellbent on pushing them all together. “Emerie and Gwyn went to find out about snow tubing.”

“I love snow tubing,” Mor replied. “We should find them!”

Nesta didn’t even bother arguing. She just ignored Cassian waggling his eyebrows at her as the four of them made their way over to the line for snow tubing, easily spotting Emerie and Gwyn nearly at the front. 

“There you are, Nesta,” Gwyn said once she was close enough. She clipped Nesta’s day pass right onto her jacket before she realized Nesta wasn’t alone, her expression immediately brightening once she noticed Cassian, Azriel, and Mor were there too. “Em, look what the cat dragged in.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Emerge asked, a small smile breaking out as she made eye contact with Mor. 

“Stalking us, probably,” Nesta muttered under her breath. Neither of her friends heard her, but Azriel let out a low laugh; a win was a win, she supposed.

“We’re big snow people,” Mor answered. She shifted her skiing stuff in her hands in a move that Nesta never would’ve been able to pull off. “I heard you were going snow tubing. Do they have double tubes?”

“They do,” Gwyn answered, eyeing up Azriel while Mor continued eyeing up Emerie. “We were going to take turns going together since it was only the three of us, but…”

Once again, everyone turned to look at Nesta like they just knew she was going to be the final holdout. Instead of trying to force her into submission, this time Emerie and Gwyn were going with puppy dog eyes instead, and they were laying them on so thick that Nesta knew she wouldn’t last long. 

God, they were really going to owe Nesta big time for this. 

Nesta bit back her complaint and pasted on a smile instead. “That sounds like fun.”

“Great!” Mor trilled. “We just have to put our equipment back inside — meet you at the top in a few?”

“Yeah,” Emerie agreed with a smile. “Sounds good.”

Nesta waited for Cassian, Azriel, and Mor to be out of earshot before she turned back to her friends. “Next year, I’m picking the vacation.”

“Of course,” Gwyn agreed immediately. 

“And I’m planning the itinerary,” Nesta added. 

“It’s only fair,” Emerie replied. 

“If I die because I get in a snow tube with Cassian, I’m coming back to haunt the both of you for eternity,” Nesta threatened. They all knew she didn’t mean it, but she had to make sure they both knew how serious this was.

“You won’t die, but okay.” Gwyn rolled her eyes and gently poked Nesta toward the snow tubing line. “It’ll be fine. Maybe you’ll even have some fun with him!”

Nesta had a feeling that it most certainly would not, but she didn’t want to rain on her friends’ parades even more than she already had. Cassian seemed nice enough, incessant flirting aside; he wouldn’t try to ruin her vacation on purpose any more than he already had. They could probably just go down the hill a few times and go their separate ways once Gwyn and Emerie were sufficiently distracted by Azriel and Emerie.

Nesta comforted herself with that resolution all the way up to the top of the hill, where she was promptly distracted by the sight of Cassian waiting with a double tube in his hands like it weighed nothing. They weren’t particularly heavy per se, but Nesta knew from prior experience how unwieldy they were to handle. Seeing him have such a solid grip on their tube almost made her think about how solid of a grip he could have on… other things, but she forced herself to pull it together. 

“There you are, slowpoke,” Cassian said once she got close enough, a teasing grin on his face. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Nesta said back. She shot a meaningful look at her friends, who just rolled their eyes, before turning back to Cassian. “Lead the way.”

Cassian was more than happy to, and he looked back every so often to make sure Nesta was still behind him as they made their way over to one of the beginner hills. “Sure you can keep up, Nes?”

“This is nothing,” Nesta replied with a scoff. She hadn’t been snow tubing in years, but she wasn’t about to show weakness in front of him. “But if you need it to feel safe…”

Cassian’s laugh was loud enough she could hear it without him turning around all the way. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?”

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” she told him sweetly.

“Trust me, I’ll be real comfortable with you sitting between my legs,” he retorted without missing a beat. He looked like he wanted to say more, but there were a few young children running around, so he made the wise decision to leave it there. “If you’re not too scared, that is.”

“Trust me,” she repeated, “you’re the only one that needs to be scared. Go to the second lane.”

The second lane was intermediate, and there were significantly less families waiting their turn. Cassian marched right up to the attendant managing the line and dropped the snow tube on the ground like it didn’t weigh a thing, shooting Nesta a clear you coming? before he turned back around.

“Ladies first,” Cassian said once Nesta was close enough, motioning to their shared snow tube. He kept his gloved hand out in a clear offer to help her get in the front half of the tube, shaking it a little impatiently when she didn’t immediately take it.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. Still, she took his extended hand while the attendant held the tube steady, managing to get in the tube without landing too hard on her ass.

“What can I say, sweetheart,” he replied once he was seated behind her, his long legs easily stretching to her half of the tube.  “You bring all kinds of exciting things out of me.”

Nesta didn’t have a chance to reply before the attendant gave them a big push and they went flying down the hill. Nesta held on for dear life as Cassian let out a loud whoop, the cold air stinging her eyes a little bit as they whipped through the lane. She was doing her best to lean with the curve of the lane, but there was only so much she could do with Cassian weighing down the back half of the tube.

“Watch it!” Nesta yelled from the front of the tube, just narrowly missing scraping her gloved hand against the wall of the lane. She let go of one handle so she could whack him on the leg to really make sure he was listening. “You have to lean with me, dumbass!”

“Live a little, Nes!” Cassian yelled back. He jerked the tube just in time so she didn’t hit the next wall, laughing when she whipped her head around to glare at him. “Come on, relax — oh, shit!”

Nesta whirled around to see what he was talking about just in time to see one last curve coming at her. They both tried to lean to the right to avoid it, and the tube slipped right out from under Nesta at the sudden shift in weight. She landed hard on the snow and her momentum kept her going right into the wall they were trying to miss in the first place, but thankfully her snow gear was padded enough that her chest only hurt a little from making direct contact with the wall of snow. 

Nesta laid there for a second, a little stunned at the series of events that had just transpired. At least she hadn’t hit her head directly, but the rest of her wasn’t exactly happy.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Cassian said from somewhere behind her. Or maybe in front of her? Damn, that snow really packed a punch. “You okay, Nes?”

When she didn’t answer right away, his tone grew a bit more concerned and a lot louder as he got closer to her. “Nes. Nesta. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, you idiot,” Nesta snapped, her body already beginning to throb. She could tell she was going to have some nasty bruises, and of course she hadn’t gotten them in the fun way. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I forgot how much lighter you were than me,” he admitted sheepishly. He helped roll her over and slowly sit up, his hazel eyes wide with concern. “I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t being a dick on purpose.” 

“Really?” she responded. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“It was an accident!” he protested.

“Can’t you be serious for one second?”

“I am being serious. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere, moron, what did you expect—”

“I know you think I’m an idiot, but I have medical training.”

“Is this the part where you give me a good long rubdown? No thanks.”

“Just let me look you over and make sure you didn’t fuck something up.”

“I think you’ve done enough for today, Dr. Feel Good.”

“Nesta, come on, don’t be dumb—” 

“You want to tell me not to be dumb? Have you lost your mind?”

“Everything okay here?”

Nesta turned her head to see the one of the ski resort employees making her way over to them, and the sound of Cassian’s mouth clicking shut almost made it worth the embarrassment from knowing people had most definitely seen her wipe out. “Yes, we’re fine.”

“That was a pretty hard hit you took, ma’am,” the employee said. “I would strongly suggest you go in the lodge and let one of the nurses take a look at you.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Nesta told her, turning to shoot Cassian one of the fakest smiles she could muster up while promising death through her eyes. “My friend here’s a physical therapist. He’s going to make sure I’m all patched up.”

Cassian stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds before swallowing down whatever he really wanted to say. “Yup. I sure am.”

“Great,” the employee replied. “Do you need assistance getting back to the lodge? We need to clear the hill.”

“Nope, we got it,” Cassian answered before Nesta had a chance to even think about it. He reached down and helped her up one-handed, passing off the snow tube to the employee before turning back to look at Nesta expectantly. “So.” 

“So what?” Nesta said. The employee was already walking away, so at least there’d be one less person subject to watching this shitshow. 

“Piggyback or bridal?” he asked her. Before she could open her mouth to protest he added, “There’s no fucking way you’re walking back to the lodge before you get evaluated, so pick one.”

When she didn’t answer fast enough, he just shrugged and leaned down to scoop her up in a bridal carry. Her arms shot up automatically to wrap around his neck so he wouldn’t drop her, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t be a problem with how built he was. “Hey!”

“Should’ve given me an answer faster,” he told her cheerfully. His grip on her was firm, and she swore she could feel the heat coming off him even through the multiple layers of their combined snow gear. “Besides, it’s just practice.” 

“For?” she asked, already knowing his answer would make her roll her eyes. 

“For when you make an honest man out of me,” he answered without missing a beat. She just rolled her eyes and did her best to make herself comfortable as they walked back toward the lodge.

Even she had to admit she was pretty comfortable in his arms, but over her dead body would she tell him that.

tag list: @c-e-d-dreamer | @jsmelodies | @queercontrarian | @nativeswfl | @that-little-red-head | @dustjacketmusings | @fieldofdaisiies | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @kale-theteaqueen | @goddess-aelin | @livinforthetea | @valkyrie-archeron | @agents-assemble | @sweet-pea1 | @lilah-asteria | @brieq | @mydnights | @jmoonjones | @readskk | @fwiggle | @bookstantrash | @climbthemountain2020 | @underneath-the-sidras | @illyrianshadowhunter | @sublimecoffeefestival | @superspiritfestival | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @burningsnowleopard | @bri-loves-sunflowers | @itsinherited

[drabblesandimagines]

Careless

Clive Rosfield x female reader Minor FF16 spoilers as per, Gav says a swear or two

The boat ride back to the Hideaway is silent – odd considering the cargo onboard is a reason for celebration. Obolus is at the helm as usual and hasn’t dared to grumble once at the additional weight. The rescued Bearers – eight adults, one child – are curled up under blankets and sack cloth, the gentle bob of the water having lulled them to sleep. Gav is sat near them, keeping his eyes cast down in his lap. Torgal is fast asleep at your feet, snoring lightly after the exertion of the day. A number of Cursebreakers had stayed ashore, but there are a few onboard who are either admiring their boots or keeping their gaze on the horizon.

You’ve kept your eyes anywhere else but the two stormy blue ones that have been fixed solely on you since boarding the vessel. Clive is sat opposite, arms crossed, legs spread wide and you swear you can feel his glare burn.

Making any sort of prolonged eye contact with the outlaw before had done little else but cause your cheeks to flush. He was attractive, there was no denying that – even enemies had commented on it in fights, for Founder’s sake. The two of you had always got on well since he joined the Hideaway over five years ago and you’d been a liar if you hadn’t entertained the possibility of something more.

Not now, though.

Not with how furious he is with you.

It wasn’t even meant to have been a mission. Gav had accompanied you to Northreach for a supply run. He hadn’t been out scouting for a few days and had itchy feet, so he’d jumped at the chance to leave the Hideaway for a couple of hours, even if it meant acting as your pack chocobo. There were requests in from the Tub & Crown for spices and always an endless request for more herbs for the infirmary, so you’d headed to Northreach for the market there. The two of you had been walking down a less travelled path towards Clairview when a unique accent had caught your ears, heading your way.

Royalists.

Gav’s eyes widened and the two of you ducked back into the undergrowth, thankfully free of fiends. For a couple of weeks now, there had been unconfirmed intelligence that the Royalists had been abducting Bearers and shipping them out to Ash at an alarming rate. A couple of Cursebreaker groups had been out trying to scout possible docking locations, but nothing had ever been confirmed.

But what else would a small group of Royalists be doing in the Empire? From your hiding place, three soldiers quickly march by, a Branded child of no more than eight in their grip. Tears streaked the young girl’s face and it broke your heart, flinging your mind back to when you’d been young and sold between master and master…

“Do you think…?” Gav doesn’t finish his sentence as they walk out of earshot.

“It must be. Come on, we need to follow them.”

Gav’s hand grabs your arm and holds you in place.

“Look, I admit we’re decent with a blade but we have no idea what we’ll be walking into.”

“This could be our only chance – this is the first concrete evidence we’ve had.”

“I know, but there’s two of us. There might be a whole battalion of soldiers where they’re headed.”

You bite your lip – you agree, but there must be something you can do. The terror in the little girl’s eyes will haunt you the rest of your life if you don’t. Maybe, if one of you could go and get back-up, the other follow the Royalists and leave a trail… Gav. It would have to be Gav.

“Go get back-up, then follow the scent.”

“Wait, you’re not-“

“They want Bearers. I’m a Bearer, aren’t I?” You swiftly take off your leather armour and sword belt, handing them over to scout who is staring at you in disbelief.

“Aye fucking right!”

“Clive had a missive from the Dame early this morning, so he should be in Northreach by now. There’ll be more Cursebreakers there too. Fetch them and then put that scouting nose to good use. I’ll leave an excellent trail for you to follow.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am. Trust me, Gav. I trust you.”

“Oh, pile the pressure on, why don’t you?” Gav sighs.

“You’re the best scout in Valisthea, no such thing as pressure. See you soon.”

You jog off before Gav can get another word in, leaving him in disbelief. It doesn’t take long to catch up with the Royalists ahead on the path and, without much thought of what you were doing, you dash past, stumbling on purpose and crashing to the ground in front of them.

They curse, two drawing their weapons immediately and the third keeping a tight grip on the child already in their custody. You hold your hands up in front of you, looking up at them, and begin to draw aether in deliberately slowly before a blade is pointed towards your chest.

“What’s this – a Bearer without a Brand?” The sword-wielder sneers, leaning down and pulling you up to your feet by your collar. “I’d say what a pity, but you’ve stumbled straight into our lap.”

“No,” another blade is held against your chin, forcing your head to the side. “She’s had it removed.”

“Isn’t that clever?” The first soldier circles you in interest. “Doesn’t matter if you’re Branded or not to us, though, you’ll still do.”

He grabs you by the back of the neck and forces your head down, his other hand twisting your arm around your back and pushes you forward in a march. It’s hard to see where to walk so your footing is clumsy as you try to remain upright. It helps in a way as you’re trampling the plants underfoot  – hopefully enough for Gav to follow easily.

Eventually, you step out into a clearing and although your neck is still held, they allow you to raise your head at last to allow you to see a small carriage and a Chocobo waiting, with more Royalist soldiers mulling around. The carriage itself is tiny – it’s not one for passengers but for a small trader pedaling their goods. The doors are open, revealing a number of Bearers crammed already within its confines.

There’s a soldier with a pile of shackles and metal collars at his feet, waiting to prepare his cargo. You and the child are marched forward before you’re spun round and your hands are shackled tightly behind your back, swiftly followed by a metal collar fastened around your throat. A chain is then linked between the two, taut enough that it’s uncomfortable to find a balance. If you let your hands hang behind you, the chain goes tight and the collar presses tightly against your windpipe. You’re then pulled forward and shoved into the dark carriage, trying to shuffle yourself upright around the other captives.

The little girl is shoved in next and, as the doors close, plunging the carriage into darkness, you consider that this maybe wasn’t the best idea.

--

It’s hot – too many bodies crammed together in this cramped space. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth – what you’d do for a sip of water. It’s hard to try and get comfortable or anything resembling that. If you lean wrong the chain between the collar and the shackles tugs at your throat. The carriage is silent besides grunts of pain, gasps and soft sobs. One of the adult Bearers is doing their best to comfort the little girl, at least.

You want to reassure them, tell them you have a plan, your friends are coming… but you can’t quite find your voice in the moment.

After an unknown period of time, the carriage eventually sets out on its journey, rocking you and your fellow captives from side to side. You can only hope Gav picked up the trail you left, desperate as it was.

No – you know he will. There’s nothing you can do now you’re within the carriage, but you take solace in the fact the Chocobo and carriage wheels will leave trail – the amount of Bearers crammed in the small space will definitely gouge the earth underfoot.

It's hard to tell how long it’s been, but you’re hungry and even more thirsty by the time the carriage comes to an abrupt halt. The door is swiftly unlocked before the arm of a soldier reaches in, grabbing a Bearer at random by their shirt and pulling them out, causing them to wheeze as the collar presses at their throat.

The process is repeated until it’s your turn and you find yourself in a small cove at sunset, where a vessel bobs besides a dock far too small for it. The dock is obviously meant for fishing or rowing boats, but the Waloeders have improvised a narrow gangplank to board.

It’s a small merchant ship, shipping out Bearers right under the Empire’s nose.

You’re penned in by a group of soldiers and pulled forward one at a time to go up the narrow gangplank. Bearers are shaking and sobbing at the sight of the vessel – some know they aren’t going to survive the journey over and those that do will surely face a worse fate the other side.

Your stomach flips – you’re scared. The procession of Bearers continues at a pace. You are only a small group and the Royalists are obviously well-practised – it’s a professional operation. You dread to think of the numbers of Bearers they’ve shipped over so far.

You’re one of the two left on the cove when you’re yanked forward again by your top with such ferocity you nearly fall, being pushed towards the dock. If you get on that ship, it feels like it’s over.

Come on, Gav.

You’re only one step up the gangplank where there’s a yell from further up the cove.

Without warning, a cyclone of fire envelopes a group of soldiers standing guard, filling the air with the smell of scorched flesh and pained screams. As the fiery vortex dwindles, Clive emerges, sword aloft and looking mad as hell.

From behind him, Gav swings his own sword before the other Cursebreakers run into sight, engaging the remaining Waloeder soldiers. The guard escorting you on the ship pushes you forward, shouting something in an Ashen tongue to his brethren on the shore.

Green tendrils of light wrap around your captor and yank him back with the strength of Garuda onto the beach where Clive slices him down. You can see that the Cursebreakers have made quick work of the rest – the sand of the cove now stained a rusty red.

“You found us.” You breathe out in relief, walking back cautiously onto the dock and the sand where Clive stands, panting slightly in exertion. He sheathes his sword quickly and places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning you.

“Are you hurt?”

You go to shake your head but then decide against it, worried about the collar pressing against your windpipe again at the movement.

“I’m fine.” Your voice is a little hoarse from the thirst and constriction. “There’s seven on the ship, including a child – we need to…”

“On it!” Cole calls, darting past onto the ship.

Clive looks relieved for a moment.

“What were you thinking?” He growls, frustration etched all over his face. “No, you can’t have been thinking because if you had been, you would’ve realized this was irrational.”

“It was our only chance.”

“No, it wasn’t. This was reckless, foolish-“

“I, er, found these keys on one of the bastards.” Gav interrupts, holding them out in evidence. “Thought you might want those off, like.”

Clive grunts in appreciation, taking them from Gav’s outstretched hand and stepping around the back of you. He makes quick work of the shackles around your wrists and you immediately bring them round to your front, rubbing the feeling back into them. Despite Clive’s obvious frustration with you, he gently brushes your hair out of the way and places a firm hand on the back of your head as he inserts the key in the collar. The relief at the sound of the lock releasing is indescribable as the metal ring is finally removed from your neck. You imagine it had been to keep the Bearers compliant on the journey across the strait.

“Thank you.”

Clive steps back round to the front of you, mouth open, obviously ready to continue with his lecture but Gav gestures behind. “You should get the others out of those chains, Clive.”

“Right.” He nods at you, though with how high his shoulders are you know it’s not the end of it. He turns and meets the first Bearer cautiously walking back down the gangplank, speaking to them in a gentle tone.

Gav flings his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you some water, eh?”

--

“Sit.” Clive points at the bench and you obey without hesitation. You thought you’d be sent off to the infirmary with the other Bearers, but as soon as you were on the loading dock Clive had placed a firm arm around you and escorted you directly to his chambers without a word.

You’re not sure you’ve ever sat on the bench before – any business between the two of you was conducted standing at his desk, hovering over a map or a missive.

He removes his sword from his back, leaning it against the wall before detaching his sheath and cape. He then starts to pace back and forth, obviously wrestling with what to say. You want this over with already – your mind is already thinking of how nice it’ll be to lie down in your bunk - so you decide you’ll break the silence.

“Clive,” you start cautiously, “I understand it wasn’t a well-thought through plan, but it was the only option.”

That makes him stop in his tracks and he meets your eyes, his fists clenching by his sides.

“You could’ve died.”

“Aren’t we fighting for a world where Bearers and Dominants can live and die on their own terms? I knew what I was doing, I knew the risks.”

“That ship was moments from setting sail.”

“I know.”

“What if we hadn’t have found it in time?”

“You did, though.”

“What if we didn’t?” He growls.

“I did what I had to.”

“You did not have to do that.”

“I couldn’t stand by and watch them ship those poor people off, especially that little girl. And I knew Gav would be able to track them-“

“What if he didn’t?”

You sigh, exasperated. You’re going round in circles. “It’s foolish playing these ‘what if’ games! I’ve already admitted that, yes, it wasn’t the most solid of plans, but I did what I had to do. You go out there every day and risk your life, the Cursebreakers do the same.”

“You could’ve been shipped off to Ash.”

“So could’ve all those Bearers.”

“That is not my point.” He growls again in response, turning his back to you and placing his palms flat on his desk.

“Then what is your point, Clive? We do this every day.”

His palms curl up into fists once more.

“My point is that I would’ve never seen you again!”

He slams his fist down on the desk – not in anger, but frustration.

“That you would’ve been stolen away to Ash and Founder knows what would become of you there. That…”

His voice cracks.

“That I would’ve spent the rest of my days chasing what happened to the woman I love!”

There is a long pause as you digest his words. You must’ve misheard.

“Did you… did you say love?”

His shoulders sag in the moment.

“I’m in love with you.” He’s still talking to the desk. “I have been for months, maybe years – I don’t know.” His fists uncurl again.

“But when Gav told me what you’d done, I couldn’t breathe. It took all I had in me not for Ifrit to come out there and then and destroy every being in my path until I saw you safe and unharmed.”

He turns then, strides over to you and drops to his knees, taking your hands in his own and looking up at what you can only imagine is your shell-shocked expression.

“I cannot lose you. Not you.”

“Clive, I…”

“I have tried to contain my feelings.” He continues. “I promise you I have tried, but I cannot do so any longer. Not when you are being so careless with what I hold most dear.” His eyes are watering, unable to hold his emotions within. “I understand that you do not feel the same but, please, do not break my he-“

You lean forward and cut him off, placing your lips on his own in a quick, chaste kiss before pulling back, leaving him speechless.

“You’re wrong.”

Clive does not need another word, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you almost frantically, like it might be his only chance. You run your fingers through his hair as you nip his lip, slipping your tongue in his mouth and matching his relentless pace. He stands, suddenly, bringing you up to stand with him. Barely another moment passes before he slides his hands down to your thighs, hoisting you up in his arms. You wrap your legs around him and he takes a step back…

The doors to Clive’s chambers fly open.

“Whoa!”

You and Clive pull apart, stunned. Gav is stood in the doorway, covering his eyes with his hand at the scene before him. “Sorry, I should’ve knocked. Erm…” He takes a blind step back, trying to find the doorway again to exit. “Tarja wanted to see the two of you for a check-up, like, but I’ll… I’ll tell her you’re taking care of that yourselves.”

“Thank you, Gav.” Clive nods, smirking, as he drops you gently back down to your feet. “I owe you a drink.”

“Many drinks.” The scout turns swiftly, and the door clunks shut behind him.

“Now, my lady,” he grins, placing a hand on your cheek, “where were we?”

--

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