#and he dressed up nice and professional
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theresstilltime · 4 months ago
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Billy is great at meetings (:
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indelen · 3 months ago
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This is a great gift for anyone who thinks way too much about how the Lockwood and Co. kids will age into adults, thankyou!
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[id: two images of portraits and full body sketches of Lockwood and Co book trio with their mid-teens and early twenties designs next to each other. older Lucy has shoulder length hair, in full body sketch she's wearing a wide-neck sweater with t-shirt underneath, skirt, leggings and boots. older George has shorter hair and a short beard, he's wearing the same round glasses; he's wearing a t-shirt that says "what's more punk than the public library", cargo jeans and sneakers. older Lockwood has sharper features and slightly longer less kept wavy hair. he's dressed casually in jumper, trousers and shoes./end id]
older l&co sketches + george is wearing this shirt
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[id from alt text:
same older lockwood portrait but he's wearing glasses. next to him is a comic: Holly, looking delighted, asks "how was the case?" to which equally battered Lucy and George respond "i think Lockwood is losing his Sight", "i think he just needs prescription glasses". in the back on the floor Lockwood is laying face down.
two drawings side by side of Lucy with skull in the jar, top text reads, "bffs across the years". on the left Lucy leans on it and smiles, their ages written near them as 15 and 150. on the right Lucy puts bunny ears at the jar, cobweb around it and a vase with yarrows. there's a plate that reads"RIP", Lucy and skull's age being 25 and 160./end id]
#anthony lockwood#lockwood & co#lockwood and co#george cubbins#lucy carlyle#jonathan stroud#i actually think about this a lot#bc like Holly and Quill will probably not change much from where they are#i like the idea that as Lockwood ages he'll actually dress down a bit?#not like a lot but it won't be suits all the time#also glasses Lockwood! i love that headcanon!#whether Lockwood keeps his Signt is really up for scholarly debate but personally i think yes he'll keep some of it into adulthood#because Ruper Gale did and Rupert Gale is basically Nega-Lockwood#like what Lockwood could have been if he never made an agency and met the trio but just became a bitter soldier of fortune#my headcanon was that Lockwood learns to dress down a bit and Lucy learns to dress up with Holly's influence maybe#not my much but just a bit more put together and professional#i still am split on whether i imagine her with an even shorter pixie cut or if she drows her hair out more#i like the symbology of longer hair since she always cut her hair in a bob for practical agent reasons#i like how it looks here just shoulder length like some day she just realized she didn't need to cut it for a while#a moving little sign of how life improved that the problem really is solved and there are less deadly cases#it's nice and it matches how Lockwood is a bit more relaxed and casual#they can be a little messy and casual in their 20s when they had no chance to be regular teens#George ... would not change#but also just grow into the too big clothes he already always had and grow a beard and not even notice#and so almost against his will he will look better and more put together but will completely resent anyone trying to point that out#he will refuse to change the style of his glasses and roll is eyes at Lockwood agonizing over what style to pick#holly sees a bunch of brochures for designer frames one day on the table and gets exited like “oh George are you thinking...”#and george is like “no! 😡 this is just Lockwood being a prat and having a midlife crisis at 25! there's nothing wrong with my glasses!”#from like a pot of stew he's making#anyway can you believe i have a job and family with how much thought i gave this lol
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ddejavvu · 4 months ago
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Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff
You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.
Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.
"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"
"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."
"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."
"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."
You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.
"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."
"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."
"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"
"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."
Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."
"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.
"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."
"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."
"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.
For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.
"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."
"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."
"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."
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nadvs · 9 months ago
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cam girl (part one)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
“Make sure to bend down real low.” Rafe’s deep voice startles you.
You’re kneeling down as you fill the freezer with the groceries that were just delivered. You thought you were alone in the massive kitchen, but sure enough, Rafe is taunting you again.
You don’t even need to turn to look at him to know he’s wearing a self-satisfied smirk. A depraved part of you is excited he’s there.
“Is there anything I can get you?” you mutter, your attention still focused on your work. It’s your go-to phrase whenever he bothers you. Professional, but not exactly friendly.
“Yeah, is that the only uniform they give you?” he asked. “You don’t have anything tighter?”
You stand and turn to finally look at him. His baseball hat is on backwards and his arms are crossed, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his t-shirt.
You smooth down the loose gray knee-length dress you’re wearing and you swear he’s undressing you with his coy blue eyes. You hate that it arouses you when he looks at you like that.
You’ve gotten used to Rafe teasing you. You’re almost sure he gets off on degrading you. There are other maids but you’re the only one he does this to.
“Nope, this is it,” you say curtly. If you didn’t need this job, you’d cuss this man out. Probably even slap him. But you need to stay cordial, and he knows that, riding the power trip whenever he can.
“Too bad.” Rafe knocks on the kitchen island before turning to leave. “I can tell you’re hiding a nice ass under there.”
You feel your cheeks burn as you go back to work. You only come to work at the estate on Wednesdays and Saturdays and the days can’t go by fast enough.
You appreciate every dollar you can make these days as a struggling college student. Thankfully, your other job as a cam girl has been bringing in more and more money.
After you finish up your day at the Camerons’ estate, you drive your rusted, old car to your apartment in the south part of the island. The space is tiny, but it’s yours, and it’s good enough for now.
You go live for half an hour at 10 pm every other night of the week. Getting your start as a cam girl took some time, but now you have 32 subscribers and are starting to make good money off the website.
Tonight, you’re dressed in a black push-up bra and matching thong. You never show your face higher than your lips, refusing to risk anyone recognizing you.
This is just for the money, although you can admit to yourself that you find pleasure in knowing you can turn on so many strangers with your body. You sit on your bed, your toys ready off-screen.
Over your last session, a new user with the screen-name figure8 joined your chat. It threw you for a loop for a moment, prompting you to worry it was somebody you know from the Kooks’ part of the island, but the chances are slim. Figure 8 is a general term and the man could be from anywhere.
“Hey,” you say slowly. “How was everyone’s day? Mine was so long.”
figure8 didn’t say anything the other night, just watched and subscribed at the end of the stream, but tonight, he types something a minute into the session as you sit in front of the camera, running your hands over your satin bra.
figure8: you gonna show those perfect tits?
You giggle, immediately stepping into your cam girl persona. You check to see that twelve users are now viewing your stream.
“You’d like that, huh?” you ask, peeling off a bra strap. “Anyone else wanna see what’s underneath?”
You notice the bouncing dots on the screen that tell you that viewers are typing.
v2bo: yes
dragon89: take it off
stonyon: play with your tits
You strip off your bra, touching yourself, your breath hitching as arousal tightens in your core.
Without hesitation, you picture Rafe’s hands on you. He’s always on your mind during your cam sessions as you impulsively imagine his broad frame on top of you, dominating you.
You try to play it off when he taunts you at work, but it’s not until you’re touching yourself that you realize just how much it turns you on when he talks to you the way he does in his deep, mocking tone.
figure8: you like to get your tits played with?
You smirk, surprised someone is asking you what you enjoy. Typically, viewers like to simply compliment you or order you around, but you never get asked about your preferences.
“I love getting my tits played with,” you purr.
You press your arms to squeeze your tits together.
figure8: you like a cock between your tits don’t you princess
The sexy nickname makes you quiver a little. You bite your bottom lip.
“I’m so wet already,” you moan. “And thinking about a cock right here…”
You take a dildo you keep off-screen and place it between your tits. You part your lips as you rub the toy up and down, hearing the chimes of tips from your chat coming in.
figure8: bet you’re so good at sucking dick. i’d fuck your tits and that pretty little mouth so nicely
“You wanna see how I use my mouth?” you tease.
v2bo: deepthroat
You put the tip of the dildo on your tongue, flicking and rolling it. When you finally put your mouth around it, you close your eyes, thinking of Rafe in his kitchen, thinking of getting on your knees and sucking him off.
dragon89: put it in your pussy
A new notification pops up on your screen: figure8 is requesting a private show. Your heart-rate skyrockets.
You’d never gotten the request before. You had set the rate at $250 for a private session, half-expecting that you wouldn’t get any takers. You’re excited about the money and the fact that this new, intriguing viewer is the one who requested it.
You quickly type privately to figure8: This session ends at 10:30 and then I’m all yours, baby.
You continue to play with the dildo using your mouth, getting it wet all over, when a private chat comes in from figure8: how much for u to end the live and go private with me right now?
You don’t want to risk asking for too much and scaring the man away, but the possibility of making more in a private session than you would in a live one is compelling.
You never know much the live sessions will bring, but a private show is guaranteed money. Ending your session early might piss off your subscribers and maybe even make you lose some of them… but you impulsively reply: $1000.
Within a few seconds, you get a tip notification.
figure8 tipped you $1000.
You quickly end your live session, deciding to later tell your subscribers that your internet went out, then open the private session with figure8.
“Hello,” you whisper. “You want me to be your own personal toy, huh?”
figure8: i dont like to share
You laugh. If he’s willing to continue to pay you for private sessions, you’re happy to oblige.
“What would you like to see?” you ask. “You wanna see how I’d suck your cock?”
figure8: tap it against your mouth
“You’d tease me, wouldn’t you?” you whisper. You tap the dildo on your lips, sticking out your tongue.
figure8: princess i’d go so slow with you until you’re soaked and begging for my cock
You feel yourself get wetter reading his words. He’s not like any of the other viewers you’ve had. He’s asking what you like, calling you a sweet name, not rushing anything.
“You want me aching for it, huh?” you purr. You put the dildo in your mouth again, slowly sucking and slurping.
figure8: that mouth is so fucking pretty
You continue to lick and suck, moaning on the toy, your panties drenched now.
“I want it inside me,” you say, realizing you’re not even speaking through your persona anymore. You’re actually turned on by him, actually wanting to fuck yourself with the dildo.
figure8: not yet. keep sucking it
You giggle, half-frustrated, and obey him.
“You touching yourself right now?” you ask.
figure8: yeah. wanna see?
You have the option of enabling media from viewers, but you never thought you’d want to see a stranger like that. But this man is something else. You click on the button to allow him to send you a photo.
“Send it so I can imagine you hard in my mouth,” you purr.
A few moments pass before the picture comes in. He’s lying down in bed, showing a bit of his toned stomach, his large hand at the base of his dick. It’s thick and long and so damn perfect.
“Shit,” you whisper. “Such a nice cock. I don’t think I could fit it all in my mouth.”
You’re not just saying it to flatter him. He’s huge.
figure8: you could if you tried hard enough
You lick your lips, pushing the dildo deep into your mouth, gagging a little.
figure8: the way you choke on it is so hot. fuck
“How am I doing?” you coo.
figure8: such a good girl. let me see how you touch your pussy. keep the panties on
The praise makes you ache for it even more. This started off as a job, a way to make money, but now you’re genuinely excited, wishing this guy could fuck you for real.
You tilt your laptop down, spreading your legs in front of the camera as you sit on your bed. Your thong is still on, but it’s see-through. You watch yourself on the screen, tits still in view as you put your hand over your pussy.
figure8: be slow with it
“You’re torturing me, you know,” you giggle. “I’m not a patient girl.”
figure8: i’ll make u be patient. i want u to beg
“Please let me take these panties off,” you whimper. “I need to touch myself.”
figure8: put your panties to the side
You obey, moaning at the pleasure of your fingers finally on your clit. You rub in circles and up and down, trembling.
figure8: wish i could eat you out right now. you want my mouth on your pussy?
“Fuck, I’d love that,” you say, imagining Rafe looking up at you through his beautiful eyes as he licks your pussy.
figure8: show me how wet you are. put your fingers up to the camera
You do as you’re told, showing him your wetness as it shimmers in the white light from the screen.
“See how much you turn me on?” you say.
figure8: take the panties off and stretch out your pussy lips
You eagerly slide your underwear off and throw them beside your bed. With your legs spread again, you pull your lips apart, giving him the perfect view.
figure8: good girl. you listen so well
You get a notification that he tipped you $500. You never thought you’d make this much money in one night.
“Thank you, baby,” you giggle. “You love this pussy, huh?”
figure8: ur so fucking perfect. i want to cum inside u. put the dildo in nice and slow, princess
“Finally,” you say. “Your cock would slide in so easily right now. I’m so fucking wet.”
The toy fills you perfectly, making you quiver. You start to slowly thrust it in and out, but the chat chimes again.
figure8: i know you’re needy but i said slow. put the dildo in and move your hand. i wanna see it inside you
“Sorry,” you tease. You move your hand so he can see the toy inside you. You watch yourself in the screen, the dildo hugged perfectly between your walls.
figure8: you’d squeeze my cock so fucking well
“What if you’re too big for me, hmm?”
figure8: princess we’d make it fit
You’re nearly writhing at this point. You scroll back up to see his nude photo again, imagining it inside of you.
“Your dick is so fucking nice,” you groan.
figure8: show me how you like to be fucked. make yourself cum. don’t fake it. i wanna hear u cum for real
You obey, thankful he’s finally letting you orgasm. You hold the base of the toy and plunge it in and out of you, the lewd sound filling your bedroom, and use your other hand to rub your clit. You whimper, making sure to keep your face out of frame, imagining this stranger thrusting into you.
You let the sounds of pleasure spill out of your mouth, uninhabited, knowing he’s stroking his dick to you right now.
The orgasm hits you hard, your legs shaking. You’re panting as you look at your screen to see what he said.
figure8: i just came so fucking hard
“I wish your cum was inside of me,” you say breathlessly. You try to catch your breath as he continues to type.
figure8: what’s ur favorite position?
“Doggy,” you say, surprised he wants to know more. “What’s yours?”
figure8: thats mine too. you can show me next time, princess
“You wanna do this again, huh?” you tease.
figure8: i dont want you showing your body to any other guy. i’ll pay you double what you make on your streams if you only do private shows for me
The idea intrigues you. It’s sexy how he doesn’t want to share you at all.
“How often you want to do these, baby?” you ask.
figure8: every night. i’ll give you 1000 for every show and tips for when you deserve it. i want to buy you some things and watch you use them. you’re mine and mine only
The thought of making $1000 a night is unbelievable. This guy is loaded with cash and wants to spend so much on you.
You would lose the following you worked hard to get, but you’d undoubtedly make way more money being this man’s personal cam girl.
“Deal,” you finally say with a disbelieving laugh. “Same time tomorrow?”
figure8: don’t be late
The chat window notifies you that he left. You’re still breathless, shocked at how you didn’t have to fake the orgasm with him.
You scroll to find his dick pic again, as if you’re addicted to looking at it. You turn your camera off and now that you can angle your screen up, you can take a better look at the image.
Your stomach drops. The gold ring around his forefinger. The bedsheets you change twice a week. You know who it is.
The man you just orgasmed with was Rafe.
{ read part two here }
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dmitriene · 2 months ago
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being boss's john price sweet secretary, almost the only employee that doesn't drip on his nerves, not counting his trusting one's, as he keeps you constantly close, bordering on the thin line of professional relationship, but you think he's just nice to you, even when he purrs smokily for you to warm up his lap.
he doesn't gropes you, just traces his calloused hands over the curves of your body, they're heavy, hot, despite that you're fully dressed in your white button up shirt, tucked under your pencil skirt, too short, still for the liking of his eclipsed, cerulean gaze, albeit in need to be constantly covered up, when someone let their gazes wander, making john all growling and strict, tugging you behind him.
you feel embarrassed about it all, adorably shy at the fact that you have some special place of yours in john's mind, he doesn't let's you call him sir or boss, making you chirp his name shyly, and even through you squirm under his gaze and gentle croons, you still always end up at his thick, muscular lap, holding his cigar between your delicate fingers, letting the acrid, spicy smoky smell cloak around your form, perched close to his chest.
john's hands busy with paperwork you only recently brought him, so it's only normal for his secretary to help him, even if it's nothing but just letting him smoke from your hand, the scruff of his mutton chops tingling against your soft skin, as he enjoys the warmth and suppleness of your form, sitting pliable for him, and even if you squirm at his hand suddenly leaving the pen to brush against your lower back, he only purrs a hoarse chuckle.
it's only the matter of time when you get more responsibilities as his secretary, learning how to soothe him down when he's fuming after a bad work he received or a meeting gone south, and it's with you seating on his cold, wooden desk, with your pretty legs spread wide and your skirt rolled up, cotton panties dangling at your ankles, pussy already wet and on display for the blue eyes, edged with black.
your boss loves you all shy, with your face hiding in the crook of his neck, breathing in his prominent, woody musk, blending with the notes of his tart cigars and sign of whiskey, warm, tender with you, he doesn't let's his steam cloud his senses, taking you with long, heavy drags of his cock inside your spasming, gooey pussy, thrusts sloppy and slow, as he inhales at your hair, nuzzling his face in your temple.
listens to your breathy, squeaky keens, keeping his hips canting right to see the way your legs tremble, wrapping around his lower back, looping there tightly, as john moves to kiss wetly at your neck, needy, smudging presses of his plump lips against your smooth skin, holding his palm splayed over your coccyx, so you won't hurt while jolting on his desk, his precious girl.
main masterlist. quidelines.
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harryspet · 3 months ago
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well kept [2] r. cameron
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[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!
word count: 4.5k
In which you officially enter into a world of high stakes and intense demands.
well kept masterlist
Your fingers traced the smooth edge of the new work bag that sat on your desk, a pristine luxury item whose brand you didn’t immediately recognize. It was medium-sized, big enough to fit your brand-new laptop, and an off-white color with pebble-textured leather. 
“Wow, you clean up nice,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find Eleanor approaching, coffee in hand.
Instinctively, you pulled down your skirt as she looked you over. You were effortlessly polished, for sure. You usually only get your hair professionally done for special occasions, opting for simple protective styles you could do yourself. However, you had to admit you felt pretty with your hair in a neat, braided rose that reached down to your lower back. 
The clothes only amplified this unfamiliar sensation. After trying on eight outfits the previous night, you had settled on a cherry-red cropped blazer and a matching pleated skirt. You’d chosen the shortest heels Rafe had sent—a pair of white kitten heels adorned with gold bows. Your makeup, subtly applied, complemented the overall look.
Eleanor set her things down, straightened, and placed a hand on her slender hips. “Take your bag,” she said. “I’ll show you where Rafe expects you to work.”
“I thought that was my desk.”
“He’ll tell you where you need to be and when you need to be there.”
Her answer was simple enough. 
You entered the luxurious space that Rafe called an office once again. Even when he wasn’t in the room, you were intimidated by it, “He had this brought in for you,” Facing the wall on the side of the room that held Rafe’s desk, in the corner, was a simple mahogany desk. The miniature version of Rafe’s desk. A cushioned stool was placed underneath and on top were a notebook, a cup of pens, and a small lamp, “This is where he’ll expect you most mornings. You’re to review his calendar before he arrives, memorize it, and you’ll brief him on the day when he walks in.”
“I’m ssss-supposed to be in here with him …all day? What if I, you know, need you?”
“I’m right down the hallway, or you can email me.”
Eleanor spent the next thirty minutes showing you their emailing system and how to access Rafe’s calendar. She even shared a large cheat sheet she’d made with all of Rafe’s preferred restaurants, coffee shops, hotels, and the names and numbers of his home staff.
When she left you alone, you looked around the room. The view of the office from your corner was daunting. However, your heart had been beating too fast ever since you met Rafe. 
You turned your attention back to the calendar system. It was sleek and well-organized, and luckily, it was straightforward enough to navigate. You took note of his key meetings for the day and repeated them over in your head. You wrote down some notes in case your mind drew a blank. It was your first day, and he’d give you some grace, right? 
You needed to be able to anticipate these needs, but all you knew about Rafe Cameron was that he was complex and demanding. 
The sound of footsteps in the corridor drew your attention, and hurriedly, you glanced down at your note sheet again. Standing from your seat, you smoothed out your skirt, and with your notes in hand, you folded your palms in front of you. 
Unconsciously, as he pushed open the doors, you sucked air into your lungs. You held your breath until his eyes met with yours. In comparison to when you first met him, he was dressed down. He wore a short-sleeve black polo black dress pants, black leather penny loafers on his feet and a briefcase in hand. His face was stoic as he looked you over and let the doors close behind him. As big as they were, they were practically silent went they closed, adding to the ominous feeling in the room. 
You smiled, or tried to, “Good morning, Mr. Cameron, I’m–”
“I want you right here,” He interrupted, pointing down at the floor a foot before him. You stepped forward, hoping you wouldn’t trip like you had while practicing walking in them. Despite how he towered over you when you were this close, you made yourself comfortable there, “You’ll be right there every day when I walk in. Try again.”
“Good morning, Mr. Cameron-”
“I prefer Sir.”
Try again. Unfortunately, you were pretty used to being interrupted and forced to stop and start your sentences. “Good morning, Sir.” You were smiling as much as you could, but your throat hurt like your body wanted to cry. “Today, you’ll sss-start with three sss-separate online conferences with potential investors: Mr. Daniel, Mrs. Hunt, and Mr. Rivera. After lunch, you’ll have your weekly group meetings with department heads. You’ll start with Finance at one o’clock, Legal at two, and Design and Architecture at three. Your meeting with Property Management at four o’clock was canceled but rescheduled for Wednesday. For the rest of the day, you will be free to catch up with emails and ssss-submit the …. sss-ssss-strategic plan report you’ve been working on.”
He nodded once throughout your briefing, his face remaining impassive. You thought he might cringe at your mistakes, but he didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like a strange choice for this job. Why would someone like him want to listen to you? 
“Good,” he confirmed, and you were relieved only for a moment. You were okay until he started to look you over, “Turn around.”
You weren’t sure why you looked in his eyes to see if he was being serious. Of course, he was being serious. Awkwardly, you face away from him until he adds, “In a circle, please.”
You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment before you faced him again. 
“I have a question,” You said.
“Yeah?”
“About the clothes. I …I didn’t know if it w-would be okay to return ssss-ssss-some of them. I just, there’s sss-so many.”
“And?” Rafe pressed, his brow furrowed. 
“I-I don’t have that much room for them.”
“Hmm,” He thought briefly, “How’s this? You take a picture of yourself in each outfit and then email them to me, and I’ll decide which ones I want you to wear. But everything red can stay. I like the red.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he brushed past you and returned to his desk. Unsure whether you were supposed to move or stay put, you waited in place. 
“I’ll take a coffee. Black. Thanks.”
Eager to escape the room and not feel the weight of his gaze, you hurried out of the doors. Panicked, you approached Eleanor’s desk, waving your hands to get her attention. She was on the phone, but you mouthed “Coffee.” Acting as your life vest, she pointed you toward one of the many doors that lined the wall across from the reception area. 
Inside, you expected to find a normal breakroom, but the room’s decoration reminded you more of a lounge. Black coffee should be easy enough, but your hands shook slightly as you worked the modern, sleek coffee maker. After you prepared the coffee, you took a breath, and made your way back to his office. You kept yourself as composed as possible, and he glanced up at you briefly as you entered. You set it carefully on the coaster near his computer. 
He didn’t directly look at you or the coffee; you took that as your sign to retreat to your desk. 
You sat quietly as he attended all three of his virtual meetings. Inevitably, you started to listen. Sometimes, you’d tune in, wanting to learn something, but you gave up a few times after realizing how complex things were. 
When he finished all his meetings, he spoke up, “What are the arrangements for lunch?” 
“Lunch …” You echoed, thinking about the calendar you recognize, “Is there sss-something sss-specific you’re in the mood for, sir?”
“On Mondays, I have lunch with my COO and CFO. We have standing reservations at several restaurants. You’ll need to pick one, call, and make sure everyone knows the plans.” 
“Okay,” You nodded, “Yes, sir.”
Was that on the cheat sheet? Had you missed that? After scrolling a few times, you will find the list of restaurants and senior team members. 
You called The Prime, an upscale steakhouse, for Rafe and his senior team, ensuring every detail was perfectly arranged. When it was time to leave, you stood to bid Rafe goodbye, only to be told you were expected to join him. Quickly gathering your things, you followed him down the elevator to the parking garage. Eleanor gave you an encouraging thumbs up and smile as you passed her.
You must’ve looked frightened. 
Rafe’s choice of vehicle, a massive black truck with gleaming rims and immaculate leather seat, wasn’t a surprise, but his courteous gesture was. He opened the door for you and gently placed a hand on your hip to steady you as you navigated the high step into the truck.
“Th-Thank you,” You spoke, your voice small before he closed the door. 
As you sat during the ride, you felt your thighs were too exposed. You crossed your legs, trying to alleviate that feeling, but it proved useless, “You’ll get used to it,” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of being consumed by your thoughts. You hadn’t realized he was even paying attention to you. 
Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over him. His shirt's short sleeves did little to conceal the strength in his arms and the defined lines of his chest. 
“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his tone relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to ask that, but you recalled the words he had used with you the week prior. Would you fuck him? He’d already crossed a line. You needed to get used to his brashness, “A girlfriend?” He continued. 
“I-I-I,” Breathe in, slowly release, “I don’t.”
“Have you ever had one?”
The underlying implication of his words made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, “Have you, Sir?”
He let our a short laugh, “You just seem a little uptight,” Your lips parted and eyes widened.
“What-”
“I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while. But you don’t need to date someone seriously to get what you need from them. I guess I’m just wondering if you have someone who . . . relieves your stress.”
“I really, really don’t want to answer that,” You spoke slowly. 
“Relax, we’re just talking. Is this going to be a problem? I’m just trying to get to know my newest employee.”
It felt like a mind game. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before—every word, every glance from him seemed designed to put you on edge, to make you second-guess yourself. 
“No, sir,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Are you a virgin, Y/N?” He asked suddenly as if he’d had some brilliant revelation.
“N-No,” You stuttered, lying through your teeth, “I’m not.”
He made a “hmm” sound as he glanced at you, “Of course you’re not. Forgive me; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
You understood quickly he wasn’t actually looking for your forgiveness. He was testing you, pushing boundaries just to see how you’d react. 
When you arrived, Rafe pulled up to the valet stand, and a nicely dressed attendant quickly came over to open your door. You managed to step out with as much grace as you could muster, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you as you did. He was out of the truck in a heartbeat, striding around to join you, his hand again guiding you with that firm touch on your lower back. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, at least for the duration of this lunch.
The restaurant's setting was sophisticated and private, and you reached the table reserved for your group. The two of you were last to arrive, which meant all eyes fell on you as Rafe pulled out a chair for you right next to his seat. Two men were at the table, and you were taken aback by the fact that they were as young as Rafe. 
“Guys, this is Y/N,” Rafe gestured to you, making himself comfortable, “Y/N, meet Topper Thornton and Kelce Adams.”
You managed to speak to them, though your words stumbled slightly. They eyed you the same way Rafe often did, like prey. You could almost imagine your name listed on the menu in front of them. But Rafe, with a swift shift in conversation, cut off their questions, his tone a clear warning. When you took a bit too long to decide on your meal, Rafe didn’t hesitate. He ordered for you the moment the waiter arrived, a subtle reminder of the control he held over every aspect of your life, even what you ate.
You couldn’t help but notice that Topper shared Eleanor’s last name. Were they married? Siblings? The thought lingered as you made a mental note to ask her later. Without another word, you pulled out your notebook, ready to take notes for the meeting.
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Something in his last meeting had angered him. When he returned to his office, you watched him cross the room; your mouth wanted to form the words to ask, “What’s wrong?” but your lips pressed into a thin line instead. 
As he settled in his desk, you pretended to be engrossed in your notes, hoping to avoid his attention. Ignoring the cold air in the room and the dark cloud hovering above him grew impossible. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tapped at the surface of his desk. Was it anxiety he was feeling? 
“Come here, Y/N?”
Startled, you dropped your pen on the floor, the sound making him fully turn his head towards you. Awkwardly, you picked it up and set it down on your desk. You fixed your skirt as you crossed the distance between his desk and yours to keep it from riding up. 
“Yes, sss-sir?” 
His eyes were dark as he spun his chair to face you, “Tell me,” He began, “What do you think you did wrong today?”
Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong that you hadn’t realized? There were plenty of mistakes, but it was only your first day and you’d been completely thrown out of your comfort zone. 
“I’m not ssss-sssure, sss-sir,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a grimace on your face as you tried to force out the words. 
“Not sure?” He echoed. 
“I should’ve know t-t-to …” You pushed through that “stuck” feeling, “Make your lunch reservations.”
“That’s one.”
“Uhm,” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip shook. You felt like a child being scolded. Why did you keep freezing? Why did you let him speak to you that way? “I-I-I-I-I…”
“Does it hurt, you know, when it gets that bad?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest, now looking at you with curiosity and frustration.
You shook your head because it was all you could manage.
“You can’t think of anything else, huh?”
“I’m sss-sss-sorry,” As a tear fell from your eye, he stood from his chair. 
He shushed you, grabbing ahold of the top of your arms, “You know I could have chose anyone for this job?”
You nodded. 
“But I chose you,” You nodded again, “I do love to see you apologize, sweetheart, but you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”
“I’m sss-sssory,” You couldn’t help the apology that tumbled out again, “Fff-for not knowing.”
“There you go, yeah, that’s better,” He pulled you closer, and you felt his hand brush the strands of your hair over your shoulder, keeping it from your face, “I told you this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. You need money, someone to care take care of you… I need ... I need you. When you’re with me, you’re mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”
You nodded, feeling like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He dominated the space, his presence suffocating, and the fear of displeasing him made your breath catch in your throat. The boundaries between you blurred even further, leaving you more trapped than ever.
“Good girl,” one of his hands wrapped around the side of your neck. His gaze pierced into yours, his mind racing behind them, and he sighed as he mentally concluded, “I can’t punish you just yet.”
“Punish?” You asked in a whisper, his face moving in closer. 
“You gotta learn somehow, right?”
Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, panicked. Nothing could have prepared you for him smashing his lips against yours. One hand was on your neck, and the other wrapped behind you, pulling you into him. Even as his kiss overwhelmed you, your mind couldn’t let go of the word he had just used—punish.
“I have to fuck you. I have to,” He growled between kisses. 
Your hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall, “Please, Rafe,” You tried to say. Part of you thought using his real name would snap him from his trance, but he groaned into your mouth. 
You’d never been kissed like this; no one had ever explored you with their tongue, and part of your mind seemed to rejoice. The other part, the rational one, told you to escape. You started to use your strength to pull from him as you stepped backward, but that only made him grip you harder. 
You yelped, and when Rafe opened his eyes again, he smiled. Whatever weighed heavy on his mind before had clearly been relieved by the game he was trying to play. You stumbled back when he let you go, almost falling on your behind, “Go on,” He said with a smirk, “Just makes it more fun for me.”
Of all the games, you liked this one the least. You turned to flee, but before you could reach the door, he lifted you off the ground. You screamed, and the next thing you knew, you were being thrown onto the couch. Rafe pinned you down easily, his weight crushing you as he reached for your legs. You shut your thighs tightly, and his glare felt like a knife in your side.
“Do not!” He exploded, and you whimpered, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, I don’t want you to ever close your legs to me.” 
“Rafe, please … please d-don’t,” Someone would hear. Eleanor would hear, wouldn’t she? She’d stop him before he went too far. 
“God, I’d beat your fucking ass if I didn’t need to be inside of you right now,” He growled, prying your legs apart and tearing away your underwear as soon as he could feel it. He wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you pinned down, while the other undid his belt. “You don’t make demands anymore, do you understand?”
“I’ve-I’ve nnn-never…”
Understanding flashed in his eyes. 
“You're a fucking virgin?” You nodded, feeling a small piece of hope, “We can add lying to that list of things you’ve done wrong, huh?”
He seemed to pause which you felt grateful for. His belt was already undone, his hips sinking into yours, “No one’s ever tasted you?” You shook your head, “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth either?”
You looked away, embarrassed. 
“Fuck,” He breathed out, “You’re gonna be all mine.” 
“Please-” You tried again, but he silenced you, pressing his lips to yours again. 
This time, he was more deliberate with his movements. His hands traveled higher, and he reached into your shirt to gently knead at your breasts. He moved slower like he was savoring the moment. At the same time, you felt even more tortured. Your body betrayed you, responding to his caresses as if they were safe, as if he were someone you trusted. He was making all the right moves and your mind felt even more confused then your body. 
Fingers pinched gently at your nipples and your lips parted into a moan. He used it as an opportunity to explore your mouth further. Next, he moved down your jaw and then he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a place on your collarbone he’d found, one that made you yelp in pleasure, a spot you didn’t know existed. That’s what he wanted. To conquer you. 
You felt warm between your legs and a slickness as you tried to move your legs. Rafe was still taking his time. He’d lifted your shirt, pulled down your bra, and placed your left breast into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching in an automatic response. If he kept going, you knew you could finish just from this alone, and the thought filled you with a mix of shame and despair.
Slowly, methodically, he dismantled your guard. 
When he sensed you were ready, that he’d successfully turned your body on, he pulled down his briefs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down. It was gonna hurt, either way, why dwell on the size? “Tell me,” He kissed your jaw, leaning down to your ear, “Ask me to take your virginity.”
You tensed, “I-I d-don’t.”
“I can make it hurt, Y/N,” He warned, “I promise, you want me to be gentle”
He pressed his tip against your entrance, and you were already cringing, “Fucking ask me, or I’ll push it all inside.”
“Will you …t-take my virginity?”
“Please,” he corrected, a dark satisfaction in his tone.“Where’s your manners?”
“Please, take mmm-my vvvv-vvvv-virginity,” He slowly started to enter you, and you pressed your hands against his chest. 
You started to breathe heavily, “T-T-Too mmm-mmm-much.”
He pushed in more, “That’s just half, sweetheart. Take a deeper breath for me."
You listened even though he was hurting you. Even now, you believed him to be better than you. Looking up at him, you slowly breathed in and out. As you controlled your breathing, he started to move in and out of you. He cursed and grunted into your ear, soon falling into a rhythm. 
Pain began to blur with something else, something you didn’t want to acknowledge. 
It was a foreign feeling, being full of him, reaching to parts of you that had never been discovered. The only thing that felt wrong to you was how it was happening. Is this how it always felt? So completely all consuming? You were warm everywhere, a pressure building at your core, and you struggled to make a sound other than a moan. 
With each thrust you let out a yip, not realizing that you’d stopped pushing at his chest and started pawing at it. That only encouraged him further. He reached underneath you, lifting your left leg to your chest, as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He pried you open further in this position and he looked down at you …almost grateful. He was savoring you and every moment that he was touching you, infiltrating your body. You’d never had someone want you like this. 
Before you were even really aware of it, the pressure inside of you had built to a crescendo, and you’d cried out against Rafe’s lips. 
He smiled against yours, “Good girl, sweetheart,” Tears escaped your eyes again, this time because of how confused your hormones were. It felt like an uncontrolled explosion of emotion. 
Now, the sensation actually felt like something you couldn’t physically handle, “Oh my god, o-oh my god, ” You spoke over and over as you went back to pushing at his chest. 
“Stay,” he commanded, his body pressing you down further as he slowed his movements, his rhythm faltering. “I’m almost done,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re squeezing so tight.”
“Please,” you begged, your legs starting to shake. “Please, Rafe.”
Your words seemed to bring his climax. Your second orgasm came painfully, and you scrambled to free yourself from under his weight after he finished sinking into you. Your legs didn’t stop shaking, but at least you could catch your breath. 
Your bare bottom hit the plush carpet of his seating area, listening as Rafe’s heavy breathing slowed. You fixed your bra and top before you started to search for your underwear. To your dismay, they were completely torn. 
“I’ll get you some new ones, some nicer ones, yeah?”
You nodded, though you weren’t sure why. Feeling his gaze, you pushed your skirt down next. Looking down, you realize his remnants were sliding down your thighs. You just shut your legs tighter. A hand on your back made you glance up at him. His eyes were still dark, but there was more satisfaction than before. 
“We’re done for today, but before you leave, uh, Eleanor needs to see you.” 
He stood, and you looked away as he started to zip up his pants and fasten his belt again. 
“Th-That’s it?”
“Until tomorrow,” He said, his tone returned to business, as if the last few minutes were merely part of the workday.
You thought he was returning to his desk, but Rafe walked to your desk and collected your purse and computer. As you stood, your body ached, and you realized how disheveled you must look. Was your makeup smudged across your face? Did he bruise the back of your thighs? 
Rafe brought you your things, his hands finding your lower back, “Go home. Get some rest. And don’t forget about those pictures, yeah?”
You nodded although your mind was elsewhere. The next thing you knew, you were standing on the other side of the door, clutching your bag tightly to your chest. Your mind started to wonder what exactly had caused all this. Was he mad at you, or was that I an excuse to …ruin you. 
When you made it to Eleanor’s desk she asked you, “How was your first day?”
You nodded, trying to shake your expression into a smile, “I-It was … o-okay.”
There was no way she could have missed it in your eyes or in your appearance, but she continued, “I just need you to sign that NDA before you go. It’s completely standard procedure. It just assures that everything you see and hear is confidential. Protects the business.”
You took the papers from her and you tried to keep from shaking, “I can explain anything you need-”
“That’s okay,” You shook your head, knowing you just wanted to go home and hug your stuffed frog, “Thank you.”
You flipped through it quickly and signed your name where she indicated, “There’s one more thing. Are you on birth control?”
You stared, knowing the implication of the words. Why didn’t she warn you before you agreed to this?
You shook your head.
“You’ll need a Plan B. Should I pick it up for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”
Of course, you’d had friends who’d bought it before but the idea of going by yourself right now made you want to be sick. And you couldn’t tell your friends … at least not yet, “Could you … g-get it?”
“Of course, I’ll have it tomorrow,” She nodded and offered you a polite smile, “Do you need any help getting to the parking deck?”
You shook your head quickly, “I www-walked, thank you.”
As you made your way to the elevator, you wondered how your day spiraled so entirely out of your control.
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Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :) Also pls feel free to send me anons about your predictions/what you'd like to see in the story!
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pucksandpower · 3 months ago
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Like … for Uber?
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: maybe you should have been a bit more specific when you told your parents that your boyfriend drives for a living
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The aroma of roast chicken and freshly baked rolls wafts through the air as you nervously adjust the centerpiece on the dining room table. Your parents and younger brother are due home any minute, and you’ve spent the afternoon preparing for this pivotal family dinner. Tonight, they’ll finally meet your boyfriend.
The doorbell chimes, sending a jolt through your body. You hurry to the entrance, smoothing down your dress before opening the door. Max stands there, a bouquet of flowers in hand and an easy smile on his face.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “These are for your mother.”
“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you reply, taking the flowers. “Come on in. My family should be here soon.”
As you lead Max into the living room, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming about Max’s career, telling your family only that he’s “a driver.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but you knew they assumed he worked for a ride-sharing service or delivery company.
“Nice place,” Max comments, looking around. “Very ... homey.”
You laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying it’s nothing like your fancy Monaco apartment?”
“No, I mean it,” he insists, pulling you close. “It feels lived-in. Comfortable.”
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupts your moment. “That’ll be them,” you say, your stomach doing somersaults. “Ready?”
Max squeezes your hand. “Always.”
Your parents burst through the door, arms laden with grocery bags. Your mother’s face lights up when she spots Max.
“Oh, you must be the boyfriend!” She exclaims, setting down her bags to give him a hug. “You’re even more handsome than Y/N said.”
Your father steps forward, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” Max replies with a chuckle.
As introductions are made, you can’t help but notice your parents exchanging curious glances. You know they’re dying to ask about Max’s job, but they’re too polite to broach the subject right away.
“Dinner smells amazing,” your father says, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Shall we sit down?”
Everyone gathers around the table, and you begin to serve the food. The conversation flows easily at first, with your parents asking Max about his family and where he grew up. But as the main course is cleared away, you can sense the questions they’re itching to ask.
Your mother finally breaks. “So, Max, how long have you been driving?”
Max looks momentarily confused. “Uh, professionally? Since I was 17, I guess.”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a bit young to start with Uber?”
“Uber?” Max repeats, bewildered. “I don’t-”
You quickly interject, “Dad, Max doesn’t work for Uber.”
“Oh, my mistake,” your father says, looking embarrassed. “Lyft, then?”
Max turns to you, a mix of amusement and confusion on his face. “Schatje, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Before you can explain, your mother chimes in. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear. Driving for those apps is honest work. We’re just curious about what it’s like.”
Max opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Mom, Dad, I think I need to clarify something. When I said Max was a driver, I didn’t mean-”
The sound of the front door slamming interrupts you. Your younger brother, Tommy, comes barreling into the dining room, out of breath and wide-eyed.
“Sorry I’m late, I was at practice and-” He stops short, his jaw dropping as he spots Max. “Holy shit! You’re Max Verstappen!”
The room falls silent. Your parents look from Tommy to Max, then back to Tommy, confusion etched on their faces.
“Language, Tommy,” your mother scolds automatically, before adding, “Wait, what did you say?”
Tommy is practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s Max Verstappen! He’s not just any driver, he’s a Formula 1 World Champion!”
Your father turns to Max, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Is this true?”
Max nods, looking slightly sheepish. “Yes, sir. I’m a Formula 1 driver for Red Bull Racing.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Your mother is the first to recover, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh my, and here we were asking you about Uber! We must look so foolish.”
“Not at all,” Max assures her, his smile warm and genuine. “It’s actually quite refreshing. Most people I meet already know everything about me.”
Your father leans forward, his interest piqued. “So, Formula 1 ... that’s the racing with the really fast cars, right?”
Max nods, launching into an explanation of the sport. As he talks, you can see your parents becoming more and more fascinated. Tommy, meanwhile, is peppering Max with questions about his latest races and rival drivers.
“I can’t believe my sister is dating Max Verstappen,” Tommy says for the third time, shaking his head in disbelief.
You feel a blush creeping up your neck. “Tommy, please ...”
Max reaches under the table to squeeze your hand. “It’s alright, liefje. I’m just glad they know now. No more secrets, yeah?”
Your mother stands up suddenly. “Oh, goodness! I completely forgot about dessert. I’ll just go fetch it.”
As she hurries to the kitchen, your father clears his throat. “So, Max, I have to ask ... is it dangerous? All that racing, I mean.”
Max considers the question carefully. “There are, of course, risks. But the cars are incredibly safe these days, and we take every precaution possible.”
Your mother returns with a homemade apple pie, setting it down in the center of the table. “I hope you like pie, Max. It’s an old family recipe.”
“It looks delicious,” Max says sincerely. “Thank you for going to all this trouble.”
As your mother serves the pie, the conversation shifts to more casual topics. You find yourself relaxing, relieved that the truth is finally out and that your family seems to be taking it well.
“So, how did you two meet?” Your father asks, between bites of pie.
You and Max exchange a glance, both smiling at the memory. “It was at a charity event in London,” you begin.
Max jumps in, “She spilled her drink all over my shoes.”
“Max!” You exclaim, swatting his arm playfully. “I did not spill it, you bumped into me!”
He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe we bumped into each other. Either way, I’m glad it happened.”
Your mother sighs contentedly. “That’s so romantic. And now look at you two, so happy together.”
Tommy rolls his eyes. “Gross, Mom. Can we talk about racing again?”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter and conversation. As the night winds down, you find yourself in the kitchen with your mother, washing dishes while Max chats with your father and Tommy in the living room.
“He’s a lovely boy,” your mother says softly, handing you a plate to dry. “I can see why you like him so much.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about his job. I just ... I wanted you to get to know him as a person first, you know?”
Your mother nods understandingly. “I get it, sweetheart. It must be hard, dating someone so famous. But from what I’ve seen tonight, he seems very down-to-earth.”
“He is,” you agree, glancing towards the living room where you can hear Max’s laughter mingling with your father’s. “He’s just Max to me.”
As you finish up in the kitchen, Max appears in the doorway. “Need any help?”
Your mother shoos him away. “Absolutely not, you’re our guest. Go relax.”
Max insists on helping anyway, drying the last few dishes as you and your mother put them away. The domesticity of the moment strikes you, and you find yourself imagining a future where scenes like this are commonplace.
Later, as you walk Max to his car, the cool night air nips at your skin. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“That went well, I think,” he says, a hint of relief in his voice.
You nod, leaning into him. “Better than I expected. Sorry about the Uber mix-up.”
Max laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Don’t be. It was kind of fun, actually. Your family is great, by the way.”
“They liked you too,” you assure him. “Even before they knew you were famous.”
He stops at his car, turning to face you. His eyes are soft in the moonlight as he cups your face in his hands. “That’s all that matters to me. That they like me for who I am, not what I do.”
You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “I love you, Max Verstappen, Uber driver extraordinaire.”
He grins against your lips. “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, girl who definitely did not spill her drink on my shoes.”
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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago
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Gojo Satoru
TW: yandere, breakup, depression, schemes, manipulation, office au for some reason
can be read as a standalone, but also in compliment to this part 1
fem reader
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It’s a funny thing. You’re not really his type.
You dress right for the office—long pencil skirts and buttoned-up shirts—librarian hairstyles and modest makeup. Nothing brazen or flashy or anything at all that garners much attention.
And it’s not like you flirt with him or anything. No, you’re perfectly friendly—funny at times, and nice—covering for him when he runs late, bringing candy for you to share, dishing the new office gossip.
Yeah, you’re his coworker. His work-buddy. Desk-mate. And you don’t try to be anything more—never one to over-share or pry into his personal matters. Your relationship is professional. Nothing more and nothing less. 
But it’s only natural, though, right? For a guy to fantasize about a girl when he sees her as often as he sees you—sitting right next to each other during full office hours, bringing each other coffee and lunch, and talking shit about the boss together. It would be strange not to—to imagine what you’d look like on your back or on your knees, what you sound like, what kind of face you make. And your preferences—if you would make him wear a condom or let him cum inside. If you like it rough or would rather, he lay belly up and let you take charge.
Your face is the one constant thing in his life—of course, he thinks about you as often as he does, in more ways than he'd like.
The thoughts don't concern him much in the beginning. It’s just one of those things the mind humors without your consent—it doesn’t mean anything. And it doesn’t matter much, even if it does. You’d never do any of those things with him anyway—you’re too vanilla, and he’s too much of a player. And besides, you already have a boyfriend.
And it’s not like he doesn’t have girlfriends, too—of course, he does—a new one every other week or so. So it’s not like he’s lonely or in any dire need of you.
No, Gojo doesn’t need you. He could have anyone else, and you’re already taken. No, he doesn't need you... 
Oh, but he wants you.
It becomes one of those things he can’t ignore whether he wants to or not. Fuck, you’re making his bachelor life feel boring. He could be in bed with a model—sounds of her pleasure filling the room, and all he’d be able to think about is you and what type of coffee he should bring you in the morning.
You’re ruining his style. 
He doesn’t know if it’s a tactic to flush you out of his head or a vie to pique your interest or maybe just to spite you for making his life a living hell—but he starts bringing his personal life to work. And by personal life, he means his sexual conquests.
You don’t say much of anything at first. You compliment him on how pretty his girlfriend is, only to be confused once a different girl comes by the next day. You say even less about it, then.
When the third girl comes, you try and make a joke—it’s obvious you feel uncomfortable. But he isn’t sure it’s the reaction he wants. In a way, it seems almost as if you feel sorry for him, which only serves to make him feel even worse.
It’s when your boyfriend comes during your break to take you out to lunch that he feels absolutely worthless. You have this smile on your face he’s never seen before—this glow about you.
Gojo realizes he’s never made any girl look like that, even while making them cum and scream his name. This look is something pure.
It makes him want to strangle your boyfriend to death right in front of you. He can barely muster a smile when you apologize for leaving him to lunch alone.
But in your absence, he musters up a new plan.
Men are fickle things, especially men like your boyfriend—men who’ve been in the same relationship for so long that they’ve all but forgotten the beast within—a dormant beast that's now starved eager to jump at anything that bears its neck.
It’s all too easy. He doesn’t even need to pay the girl to help, she does it all just to please him. Girls are quite disgusting, too, once he comes to think about it—lecherous beings who’ll do anything he says if he promises them he'll stay. He can’t believe he’s had so many of them in his bed—it makes his skin crawl with mites.
You’re nothing like them. You’re genuine. There’s a substance to you—something those whores lack. No, he couldn’t approach you like he would them. You’d only take him for the predator he was. No, for a girl like you to like a guy like him, he’d need to go to insidious means.
The girl approaches your boyfriend on his command—flirts him up, flusters him, makes him dumb—makes him reckless enough to think he can get away with it. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her is probably what he’s thinking as he goes home with a slut that looks nothing like his loving girlfriend.
Oh, but you will know if Gojo wills it. He’s got the pictures to prove all the depraved things your boyfriend got up to behind your back, and he’ll just as easily show them to you.
But no, that won’t break you. Funny enough, if he were to tell you your boyfriend was cheating on you, the heartbreak would be clouded by rage, and you’d break up with him and get back to work. But if you were the one to get dumped. Yes, your poor heart would fall apart and right into his arms. Yes, for a girl like you to want a guy like him, he'd have to make you just as pathetic and desperate.
And so, through his pawn, he blackmails your crappy long-standing boyfriend into breaking up with you with the threat of showing you all the lewd pictures of him getting nasty with a skank in a shoddy motel room.
And it works like a charm.
Your boyfriend does his bidding, and you break.
And the heartache is so palpable it leaves you sick and bedridden. You don’t show up for work for days.
And though it hurts not to see you, Gojo sits well at his desk with a smile on his face, knowing everything is going perfectly according to plan.
Yes, he’ll be a rebound at first, a mistake you make in a drunken sorrow—but soon... you’ll be the cutest office couple in the entire building. He'll make sure of it.
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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solardrop · 4 months ago
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silver.
aaron hotchner x reader.
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summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune
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Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.
"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.
"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.
"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'
You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.
You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."
He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.
"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"
"To torture me?"
"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"
"Baby no...."
"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"
You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.
"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"
" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."
You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.
"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"
"you're young-"
"I'm in my thirties-"
"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"
"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.
"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."
You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.
"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.
He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.
"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."
He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.
"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"
"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"
"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."
He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."
"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"
You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."
He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.
"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.
"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.
"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"
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nxuvillette · 1 year ago
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"I THINK YOU DESERVE A PROMOTION"
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ASSISTANT HEADCANONS W/ GENSHIN MEN
synopsis: becoming an assistant for your hot boss is a dream come true, no? it sounds even better when you both are up to things that might land you a promotion.
❥- including : cyno, neuvillette, baizhu, wriothesley
❥- note : aaaa! my first post! i’m super nervous but i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated!!
content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!assistant!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, office sex (cyno , wriothesley), creampie (all), car sex (neuvillette), mentions of food (neuvillette), mentions of medications (baizhu), brief spanking (baizhu), use of pet names (good girl , baby , darling, pretty girl), brief dacryphillia (wriothesley), belly bulge (wriothesley), public sex (baizhu).
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♡ CYNO
you were just supposed to be revising some documents for your boss, cyno. after all, he had a meeting had to attend not even thirty minutes from the current time. you thought it would be simple enough, right? this wasn’t the first time he had asked you to do such a thing for him, but what was going on was something that wasn’t exactly professional.
cyno had you bent over his creaking desk. his hand was lying against your hip while he rutted himself into your squelching cunt that was squeezing him so perfectly he thought he would cum the moment he pushed into you. you were just too hard to resist with your cute black mini skirt that showed a little too much of your thighs. you were just too pretty. how could he possibly stop himself from completely ravaging your cunt?
“ah..! cyno, please..!” your cries echoed across the room, making him shove his fingers into your mouth to make you quiet down. the last thing he wanted was for someone to hear him fucking the absolute shit out of his assistant. 
he leaned towards your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. “better keep quiet.. or else i’ll stop right now and leave you wondering what might have happened..” he whispered, which earned goosebumps to litter your delicate skin.
cyno’s pace began to suddenly quicken. he could feel himself growing closer to his orgasm. his cock twitched inside of you and that delicious high he had been chasing finally came over him. his cum seeped into your womb, filling you completely. you took it so nicely. it took everything in him to not want to go for round two. 
he pulled out, adjusting his pants and leaving a small kiss on your cheek. “get dressed.. we still have a meeting.” he said, heading towards the door.
♡ NEUVILLETTE
being tasked with picking up lunch for the office sounded like a simple enough task. neuvillette had even offered to go with you so you didn’t have to carry all of the food items by yourself, so you happily agreed since he was your boss. he also drove so you didn’t have to use your own vehicle to transfer everything over.
it was fine, up until you both arrived into the parking lot of your office building.
your thighs were on either side of neuvillette’s lap. his thick cock was bullying your walls, reaching the most sensitive spots inside of your pussy. you hadn’t expected such a scene to unfold, but there was just way too much tension circling between you both to just leave the car without anything happening. 
“n-neuvillette! ‘so good.. fuck!” you sobbed into his shoulder when you felt his thumb toying with your puffy clit. 
neuvillette’s thrusts were erratic. he craved you for so fucking long that he wasn’t about to let the opportunity to fuck your brains out slip through his grasp. after all, you were his gorgeous assistant that he just couldn’t help but sneak glances at. “keep going, just like that, darling. fuck.. you take me so well..” he cooed, grunting a bit as your cunt squeezed his cock with such delight.
his arms went to snake around your waist. his pace became brutally quick as his high slowly crept upon him. all he wanted was you in that very moment. 
he practically growled when his orgasm washed over him. his body trembled and he squeezed your ass hard enough to possibly leave a mark on your pretty skin. you were a complete mess and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to walk into the office afterwards.
♡ BAIZHU
becoming an assistant for a well known pharmacist was like a dream come true. he was a great boss, and you honestly hoped to become like him someday when you finally became a pharmacist for your own company. baizhu was truly great at his work.
he sent you on the way to fetch a prescription that was specifically just for him. this wasn’t an unusual occurrence since baizhu had some underlying illnesses that needed certain medications to treat, but you weren’t anticipating that something like this would be occurring instead of him taking his meds.
baizhu had you pressed against the wall. his cock was buried inside of your dripping pussy. you were both trying your best to remain quiet as your other coworkers were around making prescriptions for the other customers. you couldn’t deny that you and baizhu had thrown a few flirty comments towards one another. you just remained professionally due to the fact that he was in fact your higher up.
the tension eventually snapped, and you two pounced on one another. he pushed you into the closet and made your body burn with passion. “baizhu..! o-oh, god..” you whined, arching your back against his body. he was just too damn good.
he chuckled, dragging his fingertips along your flesh. he was honestly playing such a dangerous game right now. it was almost as if he was itching to make you cry out his name. “heh.. you’re such a pretty girl.. i never thought you would feel this great..” he smacked your ass harshly, making you wince from the contact of his palm.
his grunts began to increase in volume and his grip on your body had become much tighter. the way his balls slapped against your clit sent waves of pleasure over your body. you gasped as that white hot knot inside of you finally snapped, allowing your orgasm to fully pass over you. it was also at that moment baizhu finally came, letting his cum fill your walls. 
the two of you both were completely messy and there was this lingering odor of sex that was wafting around the room. baizhu only laughed at your fucked out state. “you did great.. maybe i’ll promote you full time, hm?” 
♡ WRIOTHESLEY
you were asked by your boss wriothesley to stay after hours to work on some other paperwork that needed to be done before the next week. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to ask you for such a request. plus, you were being paid overtime for doing it, so why the hell not? 
however, your extra work wasn’t exactly what you thought it was going to be.
you were lying flat on your back with wriothesley thrusting himself into you. all of the papers that were on his desk were now scattered around and pushed over so you wouldn’t possibly ruin them. he was so big. wriothesley could see a little bulge every time he pushed himself into you. he thought it was so cute. you sprawled out on his desk with your pussy clamped around his big dick. your moans were the best part. there was no one around, so you could be as loud as you wanted without a single interruption.
“w-wriothesley! f-fuck.. you’re so big!” tears formed at your lash line from how intense the pleasure was. you hadn’t felt something like this in such a long time. it was unbearable.
he couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his scarred features. he couldn’t get enough of your sweet voice screaming in pleasure for just him. “you like this, baby? you’re so fuckin’ cute when you say my name like that..” he pressed his palm against your navel, feeling his cock stuffing you full. “so deep.. no wonder you’re a mess.”
his balls twitched, signaling that his orgasm was just around the corner. his pace then picked up, sending you over the edge. he was probably the best you had ever taken. there was no way you could ever sleep with someone else better than him. a groan rumbled in his throat as he reached his peak, squeezing your hips as his cum flooded your walls. he left so much, it made you shiver from the warmth.
he panted, chuckling as he came down from his orgasm. “heh.. we’re still alone, wanna go for round two?” 
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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ybklix · 5 months ago
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stressed out
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★ pairing: dr!chrisbang x fem!uni student reader
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✦summary: Your session with Dr. Bang gets interesting when he kindly decides to relieve the stress you're carrying from the last days of university before the summer break, without knowing that all the tension in your body is due to the great desire you have for him.
✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI 18+ , smut, oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, slightly dirty talk and praise kink, use of nicknames.
word count: 7.7k
—masterlist—
a/n: yk me, a little story that leads to smut.
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It was your last day at the university, one more semester finished. You were so close to free yourself from that heavy semester at the university, but somehow you didn't feel so free at all, you were still worried about getting good grades, you knew you would pass everything without difficulty but you were a little demanding with your grades, so you were nervous, and you left your last class a little crestfallen, something that the rest of the students celebrated non-stop, you sighed, you had heard in the distance of the infinity of parties planned, the perfect vacations of the rest, but you could only think about packing all your things without worrying and your mother who would be waiting for you outside the university to spend the summer at home.
Despite being a bit stressed and upset about the soon to be released grades, you had dressed up to finish a cycle feeling cute; you had a nice outfit and your makeup intact so you thought about calling your friends to hang out for a while, who had skipped the last class downplaying it and self-assigning them the break, you checked your group chat and read that they would be in the coffee shop across the building if you wanted to join them... but in the midst of the campus and student chaos, you realized it was Friday. Friday. Of which usually aren't just those days for you. You knew so well what day it was in the morning so you picked the perfect outfit for it, but between the stress and caos of being the last day, you became unaware of the rest of your activities.
Every Friday, at least since this semester, since for a long time it used to be Wednesdays, you had counselor sessions with Dr. Bang, an overworked psychiatrist with four jobs at once, director of a mental institution, his own consulting room, professor and simply student counselor, Bang didn't want to take the big job of being a therapist for the students but upon detecting any alarming problem he was well within his rights to ask the student for professional help, with their cooperation and consent, clearly. You met Dr. Bang just at the worst time of your life, but the timing was perfect, he managed to break you out of a hole that seemed to have no way out.
You had a very painful loss just before finishing high school that altered your mental health completely, your father passed away and a month later you finished your high school studies, so that did not affect so much your streak of student excellence, by that time you had everything ready for admission to any university of excellence for which you applied. Until the university you always dreamed of accepted you and in a short time you were dealing with grief and the pressure and stress of a new place and environment, you moved away from home promising your mother to continue being a good student, but you were in a deep depression and had recurrent anxiety attacks, terrified that you were not good enough, which complicated your studies… and more when without thinking, you planned and considered leaned for health sciences, pushing you to the limit. You were so embarrassed because all your life academically you were a complete overachiever and suddenly you couldn't cope with college, you felt more awful, a total disappointment; so with a mediocre grades -for you- you passed the first semester and continued the next one, this time committing to do your best and going to therapy, plus your mom noticed the obvious alarming signs the few times she saw you during your winter break, she understood the magnitude of things and offered you to take a break, but you were not like that, you couldn't take it or you would feel things would get worse. You switched dorm buildings and that's when you met him… in one of the study halls near your building, one random Wednesday afternoon when you decided to study, 'Counselor Dr. Bang', engraved on the plaque on that door at the end of the hallway… it sort of caught your attention, you thought if counselors in high school was the same as in college and that if anything... he could give you more of a vocational orientation than a psychologist; since you had tried everything, your old study method, countless other techniques, going to study in groups with your smug classmates with superiority complex, but nothing worked for you to retain important information, you thought that maybe you needed someone mature who could guide you.
After that day, you tried to get together to study again in a group, exactly in the room of that building and out of mere curiosity you asked what in particular does 'Dr. Bang', to which you remember perfectly that suddenly all their eyes were focused on you, “Oh, he's also a psychiatrist, he helps a lot, from what I've heard”, you remember their answers.
You then asked how come you could get close to his help, but you were surprised by the sudden exaltation of one girl out of the other 3 in the group.
“Girl, don't go see Dr. Bang, he's mine” you remembered that time your classmate started joking. The others laughed however you found it strange.
“I'm not kidding, I'll finish med school and marry him,” the girl continued.
Another of your girl classmates replied, “Good luck with that. I don't think he would settle for just a girl finishing med school… I mean he has been working here for a while and he's never been known to have a single affair with a student or a recent graduate, you don't even know for sure if he has a wife or kids, he's very private. But I do hear he's important in every job he has.”
“For him I'll find the damn cure for cancer if that's what he wants…wait, when is he going to be our professor?”
“Mmm, I guess until senior…”
“I can't wait” replied the girl excitedly for Bang.
“I honestly don't think you'll make it until senior” added another girl there amused.
One guy rolled his eyes as he overheard the conversation and called for your attention to forget the little twisted comments, “He's really nice, you can go with him anytime, but… to have recurring sessions with him, I think you need to validate that you're really fucked up, since he has a pretty busy schedule.” You nodded, paying attention to him.
“Next week I'll prove I'm a psycho to see him all the time” the girl joked again.
That afternoon the other guys simply laughed, but in you a seed of curiosity had been planted and…. you didn't want to be rude, but their study group was not helpful to you and was not bearing fruit at all, so the next day you went to the mental health department of your university and requested meetings with Dr. Bang, while presenting your long history of appointments with your therapist and your difficulty with learning, so initially the manager suggested you go directly to a female counselor, to make you feel more comfortable... so you didn't have the slightest problem, however he mentioned that he would tell Dr. Bang, as he cleared each of his students beforehand and on Monday you received an email confirming your schedule with Bang on Wednesday afternoons.
And since then your adventure began in late February two years ago. It wasn't until you finally got in and met him that you understood all of your classmate's comments, he was an incredibly attractive and intelligent man. Bang was about to quit after considering working long enough as a counselor, he wanted to focus on less work and prioritize the ones he considered more important… as well as organize and relocate his social life, he wanted to focus on making a life, meeting a woman to marry since his last relationship lasted but was unsuccessful, one of the few things Bang was unsuccessful at was love, Bang was beginning to give up on the search for a relationship, and even considered devoting himself completely to his work and studying another specialty. To cope with the loneliness he used to have casual sex with naïve, young, pretty nurses that made them lose their sanity, but he never took anything seriously, until he met you. You made him stay and he didn't want to admit it, until recently.
Bang saw you, so helpless and vulnerable… and he found something in you that he had never felt before. He saw himself in you, an overachiever. Bang in his early days also had his problems that had caused him to lose focus on what he fought so hard to achieve. Listen to your story was like listening himself.
And so two years went by, he taught you absolutely everything he knew, having study sessions which motivated you and your meetings were reflected in your good grades… however, Bang's admirers found it a little strange that after so long he never officially discharged you, so they began to speculate small rumors that did not pass away from your classmates, but he couldn't, you both enjoyed each other's company so much. So just at the beginning of the year, he decided to move your typical Wednesdays to Fridays, when he usually did not attend the university, but he did it exclusively for you, plus being almost the weekend, students did not resort so much to the study hall, making your visits more discreet.
After so long, the two of you created a purely professional union… until recently, last year before your winter break, when the little flirtations finally began, the complicit glances, the double entendre comments, the slight friction when sitting so close to each other and… for the first time, this year, his touch towards you. He was always there, a year after your meetings you confessed to him your deepest sadness and the reason why your mental health and ability to concentrate were affected, to which he saw you as he had never seen you before, so bad and down, so that every anniversary of your father's death you made a small comment which Bang immediately comforted you and made you feel good, until a little over a month ago, you were more than sad, you were stressed in some way, you lived with the burden of knowing that your mother was sad and lonely, you wanted to focus completely on the university and you still had the pain of the departure of that someone, so Bang slowly persuaded you to tell him exactly how you felt and… slowly and gently he began to massage your shoulders, an act that surprised you but helped too much, you hadn't had contact or that kind of attention in years as you were too busy at school and suddenly the pressure of his fingers on your tense muscles felt so good; after massaging you, he said a little awkward and with a nervous chuckle if that was okay with you, so you couldn't agree more. And his massages continued, but the next time you felt it differently, maybe because you were ovulating and you really liked Dr. Bang, but from then on you left his office feeling aroused.
With him everything was easier for you, you felt that it was unfair to others, but you were still incredibly lucky to have him, every week he would sit with you and help you study every single complicated topics of extremely important subjects, he was your individual tutor, you admired him more and more, he was a know-it-all. Then you got to know more about his personality a little bit… he was quite kind and tender, a little bit strange, nervous and rambled too much with what he wanted to say but, he helped you so much that now you stood out among the whole student body and you even felt that you changed your habits, suddenly you were more tidy and… you would occasionally listen to his favorite music to feel close to him, even though you weren't, when you left that office you didn't see him again until your next session, you rarely saw him walking around the campus, but, it was enough time together that, you got to know each other so well as you slowly let out slight details about yourselves.
You didn't know if he would be there, you had no fixed thing to communicate on other than e-mail and it wasn't something that young people your age regularly use as a purpose of communication… you just waited for him to open the door, you were hesitant to knock… you had both said goodbye last time with a “see you next week” but you had completely forgotten that it would be the last day of school. The study room was a mess, more students celebrating and behaving childishly while you stood outside of your mature counselor's door, wanting to see him one last time before you went home, you knew Bang wouldn't be able to try anything with you so you don't want to waste energy trying to flirt but… seeing him was enough for you, living in the delusion of a life together kept you a little human and not just an academic machine.
You knocked on his door softly, with the same pattern of knocks you unconsciously put together over the years, two knocks, one second and the third knock. Your hopes didn't even manage to dampen, as he opened the door immediately and your nerves escalated out of all proportion. He smiled at you as he saw you, forming two soft dimples below his mouth, there you were, in front of him waiting for your session with him. You looked up to get a better look at him, Dr. Christopher Bang, looking so breathtaking and masculine, you wanted to let out a sigh but didn't let yourself do it. Bang stepped aside to let you pass and closed the door behind you.
You observed the place, his office decorated in gothic architecture just like the rest of the university, full of wood and bookshelves and, in his chair behind his desk, you noticed his medical gown overlapping on the back of it, you assumed he must have come from the hospital, Chris was wearing dark cloth pants, perfectly ironed white button down shirt, tight to his muscular body and a thin black tie. Just when you couldn't find him more attractive, it was only enough for you to turn to see him again, to make your heart race and your breathing become heavy, sometimes you wondered if for him it was visible the effects he had on you, after all he was the studied doctor.
“Welcome” he said softly.
You walked into the small living room area in his office, into his leather couches, the light was very bright from his large window behind his desk and in front of his living room.
“Hi” you replied, smiling lively.
Chris placed his hands behind his back and walked over to you.
“I thought you weren't coming today, weren't you supposed to be at some party celebrating your last day of school?” he teased you a little.
He always joked that you weren't the party type of girl, you liked to get drunk once in a while but a party full of sweaty college kids wasn't a fun or hygienic option for you, Chris found it adorable.
You let out a giggle and turned your whole body to face him.
“I couldn't miss my last session with you, Dr. Bang” you commented seductively to which Chris swallowed nervously, he was so turned on when you suddenly got that way but as an adult, he had to concentrate.
But even pretending to be flirtatious you couldn't hide your slight grimace at being stressed, your head hurt a little, and uselessly you thought that being with Chris would take the pain away eventually. He knew you so well that, his slight nervousness at being excited changed in a second to concern.
“Everything okay?” he changed his tone and softened the movement of his eyebrows.
You opened your eyes in surprise as he recognized something happening and sketched a smile. You sighed and walked a few steps to the elongated couch and plopped down.
“Yeah… just… same old same old, I'm worried about my grades” you replied worriedly.
Chris let out a chuckle, he couldn't believe the obsessive little monster he had turned you into, you were twenty one years old and you should be worrying about more banal things like… the launching of some celebrity's new makeup line, since makeup was one of the things you were interested in besides being the best.
“You'll do fine” he spoke sweetly to you. Chris was about to approach you but had another idea, heading to his little liquor area. “Well… if you won't go party with guys your own age, then I'll party with you, here's to another successful semester” you heard him say behind you followed by a sound of glass clinking softly.
You turned your body to see him pouring alcohol into two glasses. Your nerves escalated further, it was the first time you would have that kind of activity.
“What is it?” you asked curiously as you watched him attractively approach you with the two glasses ready.
Chris smiled sideways in amusement and sat down next to you, handing you your glass.
“Whiskey, but drink it slow, sweetie.”
You blushed immediately upon hearing him call you that, he gently raised his glass in toast and you clinked your glass with his. Chris didn't drink from his drink until you did, which surprised you. He watched you intently as you brought the glass to your mouth.
“Like this, slowly, and then quickly…” he said in concentration.
You watched him as you did it and found it so appealing, however you closed your eyes tightly grimacing in disgust as you felt the alcohol burn your throat, which distracted you completely. He let out a chuckle as he saw your expression and quickly drank his without difficulty, just a slightly grimacing with his mouth.
“It's a bit strong for many people” Chris added.
“It was for me” you replied pushing the glass away and setting it down on the small table in front of you.
“Are you stressed?” he said suddenly, trying to make conversation.
You nodded softly, running your tongue around your mouth trying to forget the taste of alcohol.
“You know I am… I'm really nervous about the grades, I think they'll be posted tomorrow.”
“Will you be here in the city for tomorrow?” he asked to which you softly shook your head, Chris didn't like that, he could see you every day… but you were a student and practically his patient, it was completely unethical. “And what will you do once you're back in your hometown?”
You smiled at him.
“I don't know, it'll be boring, I'll look for a job, I'll try to be useful.”
Chris looked you straight in the eye and blurted out without thinking.
“My consulting room needs a receptionist… I mean, it's a job and…. you can keep learning.”
He lied, but he could fire his receptionist without thinking if you took him up on the offer. You looked at him puzzled more however you didn't remark your expression so well.
“Dr. Bang… Sorry, I don't have anywhere to stay in the city” you confessed apologetically, not knowing what to say.
Bang lowered his gaze to the glass and his long fingers intertwined in it, he was dying to tell you that that wasn't a problem, you could stay with him as long as you wanted… but once again he had to set limits.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. Still the offer is well standing.”
“Thank you.”
“Feeling a little more relaxed already?” he asked again, you nodded. “You know… I still remember my last day of the semester when I was twenty-one, there was this party at Delta Psi fraternity… it was a little… weird, I hope things have changed now” he counted animatedly.
You frowned, ready to hear more of his anecdote and founding sweet that he wanted to distract you, but a loud knock on his door followed by noise from outside startled you. Chris sighed in annoyance.
“Will you excuse me?” he stood up, holding his tie and headed for his door.
You stirred in your seat, he looked so fine pissed off and backwards as he walked to the door. Once again you were beginning to tense up, but this time from sexual frustration.
“Can you please stop making noise? You are in college, behave accordingly, or go outside and make noise you want” exclaimed Chris, scolding those outside, he turned to you “Sorry… the noise.”
Chris locked the door as a reflex and sat down again next to you, this time closer to you, you were about to ask him and tell him to resume his anecdote, but you lost yourself in the closeness of his face, and you analyzed the harmony of it, his dark hair, his straight eyebrows, sharp and small eyes, his prominent and attractive nose in combination with his full pink lips; you tensed again and your heart beat got stronger. Chris admired you too, from your perfectly detailed face with makeup, even the nice outfit you were wearing, Bang licked his lips… feeling the tension and a myriad of dirty thoughts crossing his mind and everything he would do to you, if only he would put his morals aside. Chris recalled his vivid memories of being twenty-one… the gentleness and sweetness that girls that age tasted… Chris closed his eyes and gently turned his head away from you, trying to clear each of those thoughts. Of the anatomy of your pussy prostrate on his cock, of you in genupectoral position with the vulnerability of your ass and needy pussy at his mercy.
Fuck, Chris thought, for the first time in all your encounters -and in his entire career- he was getting hard, they were just innocent little flirtations… but just not today, today his body was betraying him as it never had before. Chris cleared his throat and reacted in seconds, he didn't want you to suspect something was wrong so… just this time he decided to put his morals aside and pay attention to his human needs and carnal desires. He was going to fuck you so good that would make you get a fucking apartment just to do it with him every day.
“I'm glad you're okay but…” he said slowly sitting back up and bringing his hands to your weak shoulders, “I still feel you a little tense.”
You almost sighed at his sudden touch, but it was true, your muscles were stiff from being so excited and unable to do anything; Chris wasn't an idiot, this was just a excuse to touch you but he got a big surprise to really find you stressed. But for you more than stress it was frustration.
Chris kept squeezing your muscles until he squeezed a little too hard, causing you to moan; that was it, that alone was enough for Chris to fully sexually arouse him, he was hard and, if it wasn't because you were so focused on yourself not to screw up and not look like a horny mess, you would notice that Bang was in the same situation as you.
“You're so stressed, honey, look at you” he spoke in a thick voice of which surprised you.
You had your eyes closed in embarrassment and it occurred to you to open them as you heard him a little different… concentrating to Chris looking at you with dark eyes of pure desire, weakening your body more in seconds, you saw his strong arms near your shoulders and…. unconsciously you looked down, finally discovering his prominent erection that surprised you at how big it looked. He was as aroused as you were.
“Fuck, y/n, you're so tense… I can feel it… all over your body…” he spoke again excitedly, making your attention focus on him.
You saw him bite his lip and started to lower his hands squeezing your arms.
“Are you stressed, sweetie?” he asked again, until his hands reached your thighs squeezing them.
“Yes” you moaned.
“You’re so tense, I can feel it… more in this place” Bang said squeezing your thigh and directing his fingers to your already wet pussy, “Let me make you feel good, babygirl” he moaned.
Your body jolted as you felt his hands gently spread your legs apart and brush his fingertips across your panties. You couldn't process that he had finally decided to cross that line, but it felt so good. You always wore only underwear under your skirt on purpose for Dr. Bang.
“Relax, relax, make yourself comfortable, babygirl” he spoke softly in his therapist voice combined with desire, making you lean your back against the back of the couch, “Spread your legs, let me make you feel good, are you okay with that?” he raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.
“Y-yes” you gasped again.
Bang smiled sideways and quickly got down on his knees between your legs, he gently lifted your skirt and admired the fabric of your wet underwear from the situation.
“I'm going to take all the stress off you, okay babygirl?”
You nodded, completely blinded by desire as you watched your chest rise and fall heavily. Chris began to stroke your clitoris over the thin white fabric of your underwear, making you explode in pleasure with his fine touch, he squeezed your entrance and labia, gently stimulating them. You bit your lip trying not to gasp loudly, finally he pulled the fabric aside and looked with estimation at your entrance lubricating itself, so helpless and needy as he opened your folds, making you let out a high pitched whimper.
Chis licked his lips again hungrily, he had never seen another pussy as appetizing and juicy as yours, he was dying to taste it but wanted to focus on your pleasure. He slid down your panties, leaving you bare of your bottom part and you gasped as you felt the cool air brush against your throbbing, exposed pussy.
“Let me make you feel good” he repeated, stroking the length of your folds and labia, “Feels good?”
You nodded again with difficulty, you were beginning to tremble with overstimulation, Bang began stroking your clitoris again, leading to your body, satisfaction and little twitches. You saw his hand play with your pussy from your angle and how he smiled with satisfaction, the sensations were getting stronger and newer for you that you were feeling desperate and so good at the same time.
“Just relax your body, let yourself go, babygirl” he whispered in a low, lustful voice. “I'm going to stick two fingers in you, okay?”
“Yes” you said again this time more yielding, trying to relax your stiff body a bit more, at the same time struggling to keep your legs open as you had no fixed support to leave them on.
Chris again pulled your folds apart to get a better view of your soaking wet little entrance, making you shudder, he gently brushed your entrance and watched your every reaction, so excited and fighting your instincts, then he realized that seeing your pussy was not enough, he wanted to see all of you and touch every corner of your body. Chris stopped touching your pussy for a moment to which you felt as if something was missing. You saw him, his gaze conveyed desire, yet he didn't leave his gentle and sweet countenance.
“But first, babygirl, let your whole body calm down, go on, undress for me.”
You slowly sat up and toke off your blouse as you stared at him while he looked at you expectantly.
“That's it, good girl, undress. I'll do the same, alright?” you bit your lip and heat came to your ears and stomach as you heard him tell you good girl, unsure what he meant after that, you finally took off your bra as well.
Dr. Bang bit his lips at the sight of your bare chest and admired the shape of your tits with nerve and desire, you smiled slightly in satisfaction knowing you had him so turned on too and understood everything when you watched his hand go to his belt, all your attention focused on his deft long fingers unbuckling his belt and then opening the button of his pants, slowly sliding the zipper all the way down, and finding with his tight black boxer and his protruding hard bulge with little drops of precum, suddenly your mouth felt so lonely, you wanted to make him feel good too but didn't know how to say such boldness and, as anxiety consumed you, he finally pulled down his underwear relieving of his big wiggling and growing cock all by itself. You had never felt so eager for a cock this much in your life, you wanted to taste the softness of his red swollen tip coated in his precum and feel every pumping vein of his length. You thought his cock was so attractive and clean looking, just like the bearer of it.
Chris gasped at finally having his cock free, yet he would feel freedom and at the same time captivity when his member is buried deep inside you making you feel good. Only then would he be free, when your muscles completely relax and you overflow your sweet orgasm on him. He smiled mischievously as he saw you not taking your eyes off his cock, Bang knew clearly that he was well endowed and could hurt your tight sensitive hole if he didn't do it carefully, after all he knew perfectly well the anatomy of both sexes and knew the sensations of a big intruder inside a woman's vagina. Chris didn't want to take you and fuck you wildly, his whole life and career was based on discipline and dedication, so he wanted you to enjoy every second of what the sexual act entailed, besides he loved to help you in every possible way, you were always very well behaved with him, you innocently followed his little flirting game but never dared to throw yourself on him, he had to reward you somehow for your good behavior.
Bang came up to your face and looked tenderly into your eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and gently.
You looked into his eyes and then at his full lips in a second and, without even answering him, you joined your lips with his; you found it incredibly tender and ironic how he could ask you such a thing when he had literally seen and touched your pussy just a few minutes ago, plus you looked so docile and submissive, it was clear that you were willing to whatever he wanted to do with you right now, you were so vulnerable. Chris took your face with his left hand which was slightly clean of your fluids, trying not to let his fingers fall completely on your face and gently pulled you away from his lips for your impulsive action, he gave you small sweet sounding kisses, feeling every particle of your organ, enjoying every second as he always dreamed of feeling them and then he kissed you passionately, so intense and united that you felt the pressure of his nose on your face, and made you open your mouth wider to boldly explore your cavity, and feeling your tongue, managing to elicit from both of you heavier gasps and breaths. With his right hand he caressed your neck a little and moved it down to your breasts and nipples, you were so excited and sensitive that you were afraid of cumming at any moment. His nimble hand continued down to caress your pussy again, this time making you moan between the intimate act you were both sharing and leaving you breathless, so he pulled away from you, now moving his mouth caresses down your neck to your sensitive tits, kissing, licking and sucking them delicately while his left hand was in charge of feeling the other one. His hot kisses moved down with his hand, as he kissed your abdomen, his hand squeezed your waist and his grip stopped at your left thigh, until his lips reached your mons pubis where he finally pulled away from you a little after kissing you gently.
Chris happily watched your expression of pleasure, your eyebrows down and your slightly open mouth; his thumb took care of stimulating the sensitive spot of your clitoris as he gently rubbed, once again, along your labia and without warning and with agility, he inserted two of his long digits that you had previously allowed, into your tight entrance, to which you whimpered in shock and pleasure.
Chris could take no more, his cock throbbed more and more with increasing intensity, but he had to hold out a little longer, as he knew that female pleasure could last longer and had to be carefully worked into it. He skillfully fucked your insides, exploring and feeling his fingers slide into the softness of your walls as you gasped with pleasure, harder and harder.
“Shhh, just keep a little quiet, okay, babygirl? I won't stop and I'll keep making you feel good until you cum” he whispered to you.
You pressed your lips together and bit them hard, just emitting gasps full of air coming from the strength in your chest. He was right, you had forgotten all about it once he started touching you, there were people outside his office… and a large window next to you, yet you were on a second floor and between his large desk obstructing the view, you couldn't see clearly.
Chris continued to turn you on and take such good care of your pussy while his fingers were in you; you felt on cloud nine but every now and then you thought if he would let you taste his cock or if you would feel it inside you today, you needed him so bad, your pussy throbbed just thinking about it.
“One more finger, okay?” gasped Chris inserting his ring finger before you could even answer him.
You whimpered again trembling a little in pain, you wanted him to fuck you all at once, you felt incredibly tense and excited that you were no longer thinking straight, but Chris just wanted to get you ready before he was inside you.
“Fuck my fingers, babygirl, c'mon, move on them” he groaned, looking at his fingers stuck in your pussy, then looking at you while you felt his hot breath near your cunt.
You brought your left hand near your mouth trying not to moan so loudly and started to move your hips enjoying his fingers inside you.
“Fuck” you whispered excitedly feeling his bony fingers moving and touching your internal organ.
“Good girl, you're doing it so good, fucking my fingers so well, you're such a good girl, are you enjoying it, sweetie?”
You gasped in response unable to formulate words. Chris smiled proudly, bit his lower lip and inhaled air between his teeth watching the obscenity of his hand at your entrance and your sweet fluids escaping.
“Fuck, you're so fucking wet, look at you. I'm gonna make you feel so good babygirl, I'm gonna taste you” he warned you almost in a whimper.
With his free hand he positioned your tired legs on his broad strong shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy and, leaning a little closer, he pulled out his thick hot tongue running it all over your wet vulva making you explode, closer and closer to your orgasm. Chris gently sucked on your labia and withdrew his fingers from your entrance splashing some of your liquid on his chin.
“Mmm you taste so fucking good, babygirl, what the fuck, so good” he whispered.
Suddenly Chris found himself lost deep in your pussy, he was so loaded of you and he was enjoying it too much, giving you off little vibrations as he tasted you with his hot 'mmh', making your legs tremble, you were so close to orgasm finally. He continued, placing little kisses on your clit and with the tip of his tongue stimulating you quickly in a series of motions, you were so desperate you didn't know where to rest your hands calmly, so you directed your right hand to his head, stroking his hair for the first time. Chris caught your gaze instantly as he felt your hand in his hair and he stared at you as he tasted your clitoris and with one finger gently penetrated your entrance.
You broke eye contact with him as you again felt his tongue and lips run down the length of your folds, you closed your eyes in pleasure and shook your head ready for your orgasm that was slowly contracting in your body. Bang continued, never leaving your sensitive spot once he withdrew his tongue of it, his fingers now caressing it as he was lost in the glorious slurping sound of his mouth in your pussy, until he reached your entrance, parting your folds for better access of his tongue, making you scream, he was eating you out so well you wanted to cry.
You couldn't hold it in any longer and finally released all the tension, climaxing in his mouth as you held back your gasp biting down hard on your lip. Chris pulled away and watched in detail your glistening fluids slide out and your hole throb, he smiled and took it upon himself to clean you, running his tongue one last time before standing up. Cleaning himself around his mouth too, licking his lips.
“I'm gonna fuck you, now, alright?” he moaned, his cock was still hard and needy and his precum droplets ached to come out as he was holding back his orgasm.
You saw his sex, so foreplayed and red; you began to get excited and lubricated yourself again by the obscenity of his cock. Chris accommodated your body, putting your head on the couch cushion and doing his best to make you very comfortable and positioned his body over you, he spread your legs a little more and you saw his tender but intimidating expression of concentration as he inserted his cock into your hole. Bang was a doctor with a specialty, he knew fucking well he was about to have unprotected sex, but he was so lost between desire that, feeling your insides with his fingers and tongue was not enough, his sensitive and swollen cock had to feel it on its own to check how good you feel, thus bare, he wanted all his discharge in you, your vagina unrecognizing his sperm and, he seeing it struggling to squirt the unknown cum, he wanted to fill you completely for being so good with him and studying so hard, you deserved it, finally a great break. And you, always so dedicated, were more than willing to feel Dr. Bang's raw cock inside you.
You gasped and shuddered as you felt his cock enter you, Bang gasped at the sensation of your hole slowly opening to make way for his cock, it was huge, you knew it and you were feeling it, but you still wanted every inch of him in you. Chris had inserted half of his hard limb and you were already gasping with pain and pleasure.
“God, you're so tight, so fucking tight, I want to fuck your pussy so bad” Chirs spluttered panting and excited, bringing out the vein in his neck and forehead.
And slowly, he entered into you fully until you felt his balls gently rubbing against your pussy, you let out a stifled little whimper, even inside you, you could feel his large size and you noticed him bulging in a soft lump in your belly. Chris began to slowly penetrate you, his whole cock inside you, thrusting his hips; you whimpered at the sensation and held yourself entwining your arms around his back still wearing his shirt, feeling the tingle of his tie as it fell and brushed against your chest. He moved his body closer, brought your foreheads together for a moment, staring at you as he kept ramming your pussy hard and sweetly kissed your lips, pulled away from you and positioned his head in the hollow of your neck, feeling and hearing his hot, light moans, turning you on more and, when you thought you were completely sexually satisfied, you felt his hand caress your clit, causing you to reflexively close your legs, squeezing his broad lower torso. Your pussy was so sensitive to every movement and stroke of Chris's cock, you felt his thrusts change a little as you were mindful of the sensation of his cock sliding through your core, you sighed, you were so stressed that you couldn't moan so loudly at the feel of his big dick. The sound of both wet sexes colliding was so obscene, both of you completely devoted to each other.
“You feel so good, fuck, y/n. Moan for me softly.”
Chris loved the feeling of your tight walls squeezing his cock, and your small orifice dilating adapting to his size, after minutes of the incredible sensation, Chris could feel your second climax close; but only this time he would 'punish' you, as he also fantasized about you fucking him yourself, he wanted to see you so overwhelmed jumping on his cock; so he suddenly pulled out of you causing a small mess of your fluids.
“I want you to fuck me babygirl, sit on my cock please” he asked you demanding but soft.
You bit your bottom lip as you watched Chris sit up, you stood up and, quickly Bang found the zipper of your skirt, unzipping it and making it fall gracefully, finally leaving you naked, which made him lick his lips lusting after you; you spread your legs and positioned yourself over his lap, you took his wide hard cock with your left hand to guide it to your entrance as you held onto his shoulder. Chris smiled admiring your flushed cheeks and your face of concentration, until you both gasped once feeling joined; first you slid his glans and then you let yourself fall completely on his cock, squeezing down to your cervix, you were one hundred percent sure that your poor vaginal canal was no match for Chris's cock length, who you looked at and also had a moaning expression on him, you admired again his closeness, every small and almost non-existent pore of his well-kept face and the roughness and manliness of the texture of his neck, you also wished to see him completely naked so you awkwardly played with his tie trying to take it off.
“Do you want to unbutton my shirt, sweetheart?” he said tenderly noticing your actions.
You nodded encouragingly, “Yes, Dr. Bang.”
Chris was turned on by you speaking to him formally, making his cock throb more of which you resented inside and let out a moan. He loosened his tie, tossed it aside and helped you unbutton his shirt faster, exposing his muscular, hard-working body.
“Move for me, ahh, that's right, good girl.”
You began to stir yourself on his cock, moving with it all the way to his testicles sweetly squeezed by your weight, as you held onto his marked pecs and gradually lifted your body to keep a rhythm to the frantic bouncing on his cock. You eagerly and between gasps felt his cock rise and fall up and down the tract inside you, trying to take it all, making you sweat a little from your exertion. Chris squeezed your waist tightly, helping to propel you forward.
“Oh that's it, fuck me, you're doing excellent, good girl, fuck, taking so well my cock” he whimpered as his eyes were fixed on your tits moving and his cock burying into your tight pussy.
His words turned you on more and encouraging you to keep going. Accelerating your squats more and more, causing Chris to widen his eyes in surprise, increasing the intensity of his heartbeat and suffocating his cock more.
“Fu-fuck, I-i'm gonna cum inside of you, I'm gonna fill your pussy like the good girl you are.”
Chris let go himself completely, he had held back his orgasm long enough so followed by shuddering whimpers, he ejaculated inside you, feeling his warm shot of cum; you were so close too, which he could predict so he continued to praise you softly.
“Keep it up, beautiful, cum on my cock, come on, you can do it.”
You buried your nails a little into his chest and cum, spilling your second orgasm down the length of his cock, making both of you a mess, your combined fluids slipping and sliding down his balls and lightly onto his thighs. You both tried to catch your breath. Chris remained holding you tightly around your waist so that you stayed right there and so on top of him, he didn't want to give up the feel of your core in him, he wanted a little of cockwarming in you.
“Wow… that” Chris tried to say, slowly coming back to his senses, realizing he had finally fucked you, reality suddenly hit him, you were still sitting on his cock and over his lap with your cheeks red and your babyhair slightly tousled and glistening in a minimal layer of sweat from your exertion, he let out his typical nervous chuckle, “…that was wonderful. You know… anytime you need help relaxing, we can do it whenever you want. Maybe next time you can do all the noise you want.”
You stared into his eyes perplexed that he had just implied that from now on, you could fuck anytime you wanted.
“But you'll leave tomorrow, right?” he spoke again.
You nodded disappointed, he was right, you had to go back to your hometown tomorrow; you sighed and hugged him gently, leaning your head on his shoulder, tired and breathing in his scent, thinking you didn't want to leave him, your summer would be boring anyway, you needed him, the feeling of his cock inside you, filling you up felt so good, you were going to miss him. You've never had your stress taken away like that before.
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dividers by chilumitos ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
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imaginaryf1shots · 6 months ago
Text
Age | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 3.6K
Warning: Age Gap, cursing? kissing
Summery:(REQUESTED) When you fall for your boss who is much older than you.
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
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Getting with Lewis wasn't what you sat out to do, you started working for his LH team, managing their social media and content. They felt like a younger person would best suit the job, Lewis wasn't involved in hiring you. In fact you hadn't seen him until a few weeks after you were hired. When you were sent to film him for content to post on Instagram. Lewis is a very nice man, it's a well known fact. Everyone that has ever
worked with him would tell you this(just don't ask Nico).
You haven't always been drawn to older men; you don't think about age that much. As long as you're both legal and mature, why not? But it wasn't like a kink or a plus in your books. Lewis just drew you in. Maybe it was his confidence, his maturity, or something completely different that captivated you. What you know for sure is that Lewis had your attention the moment you met and talked; there was no denying it. The pull you had, how easy it was for you to talk and have a laugh, was undeniable. Your relationship started professionally, but the more you met, the more you talked, and the more you got to know each other, the closer you got. And when you exchanged personal phone numbers, it was game over. You were calling each other all the time, texting, and FaceTiming. You hadn't reached the point of meeting when there was no reason to. But then Lewis had you travel with him under the guise of needing content, even though Mercedes had its own media managers.
You were denying your feelings. Lewis is an older, more experienced man, and he could have any woman he wants, why would he care or be interested in you, you found no reason for it. All the calls and texting you just convinced yourself is him being nice. Maybe he sees you as a mentee and nothing else.
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You were at a hotel room in New York, Lewis had a shoot for one sponsor or the other plus a fashion event to attend. The sponsor stuff was already filmed and done the day before, so that was that. Meaning you'd only photograph Lewis with his outfit to the event and your day of work would be done. Your room was booked in the same hotel as Lewis, definitelydefiantly not as lush as his but it was a five star hotel, your room was amazing. You were lounging a bit in your room until you receive a call that Lewis was
done changing. You hear a knock on the door, you haven't ordered room service, so it came as a surprise.
Getting up from your comfy position on the bed, you open the door to see one of the hotel staff standing in front of you with a clothes bag in hand.
"Hi? How can I help you?" You ask the man, who had a polite smile on his face.
"I was asked to bring this to you." The man tries to hand you the bag but you step back.
"Are you sure you got the right room?" You're certain there must be a mistake why would you be sent a clothes bag
"You're Ms. y/n y/n, right?" You nod with a small yes. The man then smiled bigger and handedhands you the bag again. "Then this is for you."
You hesitate before taking the bag, thanking the man and then closing the door. You open the bag and a dress that is more expensive than anything you own is there waiting for you. Your mouth drops, the dress is stunning, you don't know the brand but it lookslooked amazing. After the shock of seeing the dress wore off you lay it on the bed and find your phone, pressing Lewis's name in the recently calls and press the phone to your ear
"Hello"
"Don't hello me." You say looking at the dress as if it just called you cheap in every language on earth, your tone is not happy and Lewis picks up on it instantly
"What's wrong, love? What did I do?" Lewis has an inkling why you're not happy with him and he's trying not to smile, but he's failing miserably
"You just sent me a dress, for some unknown reason, and I bet it cost an arm and a leg!" You exclaim and Lewis could imagine you pouting as you talk, he lets out a small giggle.
"Look it's from one of my favourite up and coming designers and I saw the design and I instantly thought of you." Lewis defends himself, it's the same designer that designed his clothes for the day.
"So you bought it for me?" You ask in disbelief.
"Yeah." Lewis replied as if it's the most normal thing ever
"Lewis!"
"Yes, baby girl." You instantly stop when you hear the new pet name, Lewis calls you love a lot but that's just because he's British. But this, this new, it got you blushing and struggling to say anything, you're feeling shy and speechless. Damn that man, he knew what he was doing "Seeing as you're not saying anything, I expect to see you in that dress when you come up, also I'll be done in 15 minutes or so."
Lewis hangs up and you're left there staring at the dress, before you sigh. Thankfully you showered this morning, so you just started on your make-up a simple look that will complement the dress nicely, and do your hair. It's more than 15 minutes, but you haven't gotten a call from Lewis or anyone else in the team. Once you're finished and with small heels on you're making your way up to Lewis's suite.
It doesn't take long before the door opens by the designer, she gasps looking at you and grins
"You look stunning" You blush at the praise and walk in
"It's all thanks to you." You wave her compliment off.
"Thanks, but it's the person in the clothes that brings out the beauty of the designs." She tells you and you can't fight the redness in your cheeks. "Lewis is in there."
You go to the room she's pointing at, you're holding your camera equipment bag in your hand. You walk in and see Lewis standing in front of the mirror, inspecting everything about his look. He doesn't look up when you walk in, so you take the moment to take him in, the see-through shirt allows you to see the faint outline of his abs and muscles, his tattoos on show.
Lewis feels your presence, he looks at you and you don't realise it so caught up in checking him out. Happy with himself he takes a moment to look at you, and you're stunning, the dress fits you like a glove, tight in the right places and loose in the right places. He's never seen you so dressed up. Lewis is out of his trace before you are. He clears his throat and your eyes snap to his
All you see in his eyes is amusement, the blush comes back to your cheeks but you ignore it and him and take out your camera.
"You're done right?" You ask him busying yourself. You already know where you want to take the photos, where the best lighting is for everything
"You look stunning, love." Lewis's words once more stun you, and you pause in your actions before you look up at him once more, meeting his coffee coloured eyes.
"It's not practical." You say and stand straight your free hand runs over the dress to smooth out any wrinkles, suddenly feeling insecure. Lewis is always having women thrown at him, models and beauty queens, all stunning, and here you are, just him social media manager/photographer
"It's not meant to be practical, besides after the photos, you're off for the night, and you're coming as my plus one." Lewis states and your eyes go wide
"W-What? No, Lewis I can't go as your plus one." You tell him with a shake to your head.
"Why not?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"Because... I just can't, H-I don't want to." You mumble, looking at the floor not meeting his eyes.
"You don't have to walk the carpet with me, just go inside and join me there." Lewis doesn't want to take it personally, he knows being seen with him comes with a lot of packages and you're not even dating yet.
"Okay, yeah, I can do that." You say and look at him and swallow, Lewis had a smile on his face, as his eyes held you in. You cough and wave your camera. "Let's take some photos now.���
Lewis knows how to pose and it doesn't take long before you have the shots you're both happy with, before Lewis leads you to the mirror with his phone in hand.
"Come on, one of us together." Lewis's smile makes it hard for you to refuse, his arm wraps around you pulling you close to his side, you gasp and his quick movement your hand falls onto his chest to stabilise yourself. You look up, and his face is so close to yours, he's facing the mirror, and clicks his phone to capture the look on your face as you look up at him, Licking your lips slightly you face the mirror and
smile, ignoring your fast beating heart, it's so fast Lewis must feel it. You both pose for a few more, all with Lewis's hand one you one way or the other.
The car ride is filled with small talk, as Lewis and the designer talk, they'll walk the red carpet and you'll be dropped at another entrance. You're sitting between Lewis and the designer. You pull at your cuticles an anxious tic you have when you're anxious. Lewis doesn't look at you, before he takes your hand in his. Your heart skips a beat. Lewis only lets go when you arrive, both their doors are open, and before he lets go of your hand he gives it a squeeze and he gets out
Your seat is next to the designer close to where Lewis is sitting, they have all the A-listers sitting next to each other. But Lewis does come to talk to you before the show begins, and makes sure you're okay. But you only get talking after the show. Where the music is playing, people are dancing and the drinks are flowing at the open bar
"Your first show, what do you think?" Lewis asks you, you're both deciding not to drink since you have flights tomorrow.
"It was great." You reply with a smile. "It was so much fun... thank you."
"No worries, did you take any pictures?" Lewis asked and you shook your head no. "We can't have that, come on, I know a spot upstairs"
Lewis doesn't wait or hesitate, he takes your hand in his and leads you through the crowds, he helps you up the stairs like the gentleman he is. The place he takes you to is empty, the lighting is good and the music is faint. Lewis lets go of your hand and takes out his phone.
"Okay, Mr. photographer, where do you want me?" You tease him and move your arms shyly.
"Right here." Lewis moves you to where he wants and you pose, Lewis hypes you up. "You look great love, a little to the right, yes, now move your shoulder to the front, right there, wow, this one looks amazing, look at you posing."
For the next 15 minutes Lewis takes all sorts of photos, the last ones being a close up of your upper body and face. You don't look at the lens for those you look at him, and maybe that's why they're his favourite. You stand even closer to the older man as you look at the photos he took.
"Look at you go, if you even want to switch careers, photography will do you good." You smile and then look up at him, he's already looking at you and for the hundredth time today, your heart starts beating faster. He's so close to you, you can smell his cologne. Is he? Is he moving closer? Or is it just your mind playing tricks on you? You lick your lips and his eyes move from yours down to follow the movement.
You're already wearing heels, so you couldn't tip toe to close the distance, but you didn't have to, because Lewis leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as a shiver went down your spine. Lewis's lips moved against yours once, twice, thrice before he pulled back all too suddenly. The warmths that overwhelmed you is suddenly gone. Lewis’s hands are gone and he takes a step back, your eyes flutter open and all you see is regret. The insecurity is hitting you hard.
”W-w…”
”I’m so sorry love, I didn’t mean to- I just- I’m sorry.” Lewis found himself unable to find the words, he has liked you for a long time, but here he is after kissing you suddenly doubting himself.
”No, no it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.” You say and look to the side, your hands wrapped around your middle, you swallow.
”No, I have to, I didn’t ask and I don’t know if you wanted me to kiss you and I just did.” Lewis says and you realise why he stopped, why he looked so regretful. He thought you didn’t like it, that he forced you, he thought you didn't like it. “I’m your boss, and I may have pressured you into it and I never wanted to do something like this, I completely understand if- why? Why are you smiling?”
”Oh Lewis Hamilton, the man you are.” Lewis is now left confused, you step closer to him, and Lewis stands still with his hands down by his sides, as you place your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles under your fingertips. “If you only knew how much you affect me, I just thought it was one-sided, that you see me as a child or something.”
”Believe me baby girl, I see you as the woman you are.” Lewis’s voice drops a few octaves that have you shivering. His hand makes the small of your back home, he pulls you closer so you’re flush against him, a gasp leaves your lips, and his hand moves down to the top of your butt.
”Lewis.” You breathe out, your eyes fluttering.
”Sweetheart.” Those fucking pet names will be the death of you, this time you pull him by the back of his neck down to meet your lips. The soft moanes leaving your lips leave him wanting for more.
You don't know how long you stood there for but by the time you were done with the little make out session you both had to fix your lipstick. The lavish bathroom you both stand in front of the mirror, trying to wipe the lipstick. Exchanging smiles and giggles through the mirror, pumping hips and kisses.
”Lewis stop, we can’t kiss, I have lipstick on.” You say giggling halfheartedly pushing him away.
”Once I got a taste I couldn’t resist.” You blush and tell him to stop once more, before you both leave the bathroom. Going back to the event downstairs you both act as if nothing appended, and somehow you sell it.
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Safe to say, you’re stuck to each other’s side. Lewis flies you everywhere and your relationship turns from professional to romantic slowly in front of the others, but to you two, after that night in New York you were dating.
You dreaded the time the media will find out, you know there’s two ways it will go, either they will go after Lewis or they will go after you. And you think they’ll go after you. Your appearance in the paddock was nothing new, but your appearance at dinners with other drivers and wags was new. No one said anything or commented, you got on super well with the wags. You did share your fears with Kika and Alex, they gave you as much advice as they could and told you what to expect. It’s always hard when a driver hard launches or even is just rumoured to be with someone.
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You and Lewis didn’t get the chance to hard launch or soft launch, or do any of that sorts. A paparazzi somehow found you while you were on vacation and snapped a lot of pictures of the two of you in intimate positions. Kissing, cuddling, hands all over each other, there was no way of getting out of that one.
So during the next race Lewis walked into the paddock with your hand in his, the fans weren’t 100% who you were when the photos were leaked, but the moment you walked in all your social media was out for everyone to see. The things you were both scared of the most, happened. The fans weren’t happy with the age gap, you were both adults but it seemed like everyone knew why you were dating but you too. And that Lewis is just too nice to know that you’re with him for money. The almost 40 year old didn’t know any better. Like a lot of wags you received a lot of hate, and Lewis hadn’t confirmed a relationship in years, so you were an awaited wag.
You both expected all of this, what you didn’t expect is for every driver that interacted with Lewis to have their social media flooded with messages and comments of people telling them to tell Lewis that you were using him, and that the age gap is disgusting.
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Lando was streaming once and he was talking about Mercedes or something when the chat took that turn.
”Come on chat, don’t be mean.” Lando said after he noticed all those comments. “You don’t know y/n and Lewis, they’re perfectly happy and there’s nothing to worry about. Let’s all just care about ourselves.”
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Lily and Alex were live on Instagram for one reason or the other and they also got a ton of comments, especially since Lilly was seen hanging out with you a Friday of a race weekend.
“Believe me guys, y/n, is the nicest person ever, she’s so understanding and sweet.” Lilly said to the viewers, after seeing where the comments turned to.
”We’ve actually gone out with them a few times, and they look happy and in love.” Alex added.
”I haven’t been around LEwis much, but I feel like he looks… happier and more content?” Lily said and looked at her boyfriend.
”Yeah, I think George said as well, he looks happy and that this relationship is doing them both a lot of good.” Alex said and Lily nodded with him. “It’s good when you get into a relationship and you become better and happier.”
”Yeah.”
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Things like that kept happening, and there were some videos of you and Lewis posted online just being lost in each other while dancing, having dinner or even just walking. The way you’d give each other all the attention when you’re talking is something admirable.
All those things online, affected you, you hated how negative your space online became, how much it became on Lewis’s accounts, and on the other drivers’ accounts as well. What it didn’t affect is your relationship with Lewis.
Lewis wasn’t happy, of course he wasn’t. You’re his girlfriend and his ‘fans’ are attacking you online, he can see how your smile never reached your eyes when you said you were okay. It affected you to some degree.
So he just hugged you tighter, told you he loved you more, and tried everything to keep you away from all that talk.
“What are you doing?” You mumble as you wake up from your slumber, you went back to the hotel after FP2, feeling tired, and Lewis having to stay back for a long meeting. It was almost midnight when he made it back to the room and found you sleeping in the middle of the bed. Lewis stripped to his boxers and slipped beside you. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, this roused you from your sleep.
”Just want to hold you.” He said softly and kissed your cheek, you smiled and cracked your eyes open just a little, you turned around so you’re facing him. You cuddle more into him, nuzzling your face in his neck, as he laid on his back.
”How was the meeting?” You asked barely coherent, and Lewis knows you’ll ask again in the morning, that everything that will come out of your mouth right now is just your subconscious and that you will remember nothing.
”It was good, there’s going to be a few changes to the car tomorrow.” Lewis told you rubbing your back.
”Do we like it?” You ask, knowing that your stance on things is his stance on things, when it comes to driving and cars.
”Yeah, but we’ll see tomorrow.”
”Hmm, that’s good.” You fall silent and Lewis thinks you fell asleep before you say a barely audible. “I love you.”
”I love you too, baby girl.”
It took time, but the public came to accept the fact you’re here to stay and you’re not just using him for a week or two, for clout or anything of that sort. IT got better. But it never went away, and you don’t think it will. You don’t plan on breaking up with Lewis any time soon and you don’t think he will. And that’s all that mattered, you’re both happy and content with what you have.
Maintaglist:
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog
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ma1dita · 22 days ago
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Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!
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freaks come out at night
[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song
monster mash-terlist
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”
Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.
“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.
All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.
“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.
“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”
He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”
Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”
“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.” 
Impressive.
Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.
“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”
“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.
“You look like a Spencer.”
“Do I?”
Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.
“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.
“Right here should be fine.”
He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”
“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.
“Not like what, Spencer?”
His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”
“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”
And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”
“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”
So your confidence does put you into difficult situations. 
But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.
The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.
“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”
“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”
“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”
“Yes! Stop asking!”
He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.
“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.
“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”
“Doctor Reid…” 
He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.
“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.” 
It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.
One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there. 
“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”
“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”
His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.
“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”
Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.
“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”
He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.
“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”
“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”
Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!
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iisasxia · 4 months ago
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Oh he lovessss an independent woman.
Seeing the energy shift when you walk into a room or how just a stare from you can be so intimidating.
The way you speak is so proper and professional.. such good vocabulary. Your attire also feeds into this expectation seeing as you dress your best. Black pencil skirt, black tights, thigh high boots, and a nice button down shirt tucked into the skirt. Your hair either up or down. He couldn’t get enough of you.
He didn’t even know you but you sure knew how to leave a man thinking. You cared about getting the job done, you cared about doing it on your own because you knew you could. No one would tell you otherwise. You’ve never backed down from a task, challenge, or a risk.
Maybe that’s how you ended up here…
“Ah- fuck.. fuckfuckfuck.. you-mm you gotta slow down.” his hand was covering his mouth, as if that stopped the lewd noises from escaping his mouth. His other hand was in your hair and gently went down to your cheek rubbing the soft skin with his thumb.
His office windows were one way.. so even though you could see everyone from the inside no one could see you two from the outside. I mean.. seeing as your boss seems to be long gone I don’t think he’d mind anyone walking in.
You remove your lips from his tip, a groan slipping his lips as you began palming his throbbing dick.. and you looked up smirking at his fucked out expression.
“so dependent on me that you were just hoping I’d notice this boner in your pants hm?
pathetic.”
(yeah he definitely came after that.)
|| GOJO SATORU, Giyuu Tomioka, INO TAKUMA, NANAMI KENTO, GETO SUGURU, CHOSO KAMO, SHOTA AIZAWA, FatGum, TAKAMI KEIGO, JEAN KIRSTEIN, Eren Yeager (if he’s desperate), & others you believe fit my luv ||
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aquaticmercy · 27 days ago
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Altar Ghosts
Summary : While on a mission with Bucky Barnes, you’re forced to confront your ex-fiancé, who left you at the altar. Bucky helps you realize you deserve far better than the man who broke your heart.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : Love Confessions!!! Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Verbal abuse and emotional manipulation (by the reader’s ex-fiancé), mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, past trauma, cursing, sexual references.
Requested by : @switchbladedreamz
Word count : 4.2k
Note : This was really fun to write! The reader’s ex-fiancé is called Ethan because I couldn't think of a better name. Bucky is already a congressman in this (as suggested in the Thundebolts* trailer). Matt Murdock gets a mention because why not. Enjoy!
Requests are open!
○ buy me a ko-fi ○
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The Gala was loud and pretentious, like most of them tend to be. The soft glow of crystal chandeliers illuminated the grand ballroom, people around you swirled in and out of conversations with champagne flutes in hand. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and overpriced alcohol, but underneath the glamour, there was a tangible sense of danger that you knew all too well. This ballroom was a place where secrets exchanged hands as easily as drinks.
You were tasked with swiping a hard drive from one of Kingpin’s enforcers— codename Red. It contained details of a black-market arms deal that could arm every crime syndicate in New York twice over.
Matt Murdock had approached you with this job, and since you owed him, you couldn’t exactly say no. You’d been briefed, and it seemed straightforward. Red should be easy to spot: fiery red hair and a wiry red mask. 
If you were going to go to a gala, you might as well bring someone with you, right? Bucky Barnes was the obvious partner for this mission, being the stealthy ex-assassin that he is. His past never truly left him, and as a newly appointed congressman, he was able to slip between a diplomatic politician and confrontative spy with ease.
With a single phone call, he’d secured your invitations to the gala, but as always, Bucky’s presence was more than just political. He was a close friend of yours, as close as friends ever got in this business. You bonded over many things that have happened in the past, and you’ve actually told him many secrets, personal or professional, that you were unable to utter around anyone else.
And if you were being honest, Bucky cleaned up really well. His suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, the dark fabric accentuating his sharp jawline and bringing out the striking blue in his eyes. As you moved together through the crowd, you felt his presence at your side like a comfortable, familiar weight.
"Don’t you scrub up nice, Barnes," you teased as you adjusted your gown, glancing up at him with a smirk.
He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
You rolled your eyes, but a warm flush crept up your neck. “Focus, Congressman,” you replied with a hint of seriousness, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
As you passed by a group, Bucky leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “How am I supposed to focus when you’re dressed like that?” His voice was low and teasing, and you felt your heart skip a beat.
“You flirt like this on every mission, or am I special?” you shot back playfully, giving him a sidelong glance.
Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Depends,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “Do you want to be special?”
It was supposed to be the light, usual banter you two always shared, but there was something in the way he said it that made your stomach flutter. You caught his gaze, and for a brief moment, the gala, the mission, the crowd—it all seemed to fade into the background.
Before you could respond, you reached a quieter corner of the room, and he gently tugged you closer by the waist, pretending to blend in with the other couples dancing nearby. His touch was firm yet careful, and you found yourself stepping closer, your heart pounding a little faster.
“Is this okay?” he asked, ever the gentleman, of his grip on you.
“Of course,” you murmured, the air between you charged with something more than just the job you were asked to do.
“There’s our guy,” you pointed with your eyes, to the tall man wearing a red mask, with a messenger bag and unnaturally dyed red hair.
There was something familiar about him. Something you couldn’t get past, but you just brushed it off. 
You and Bucky danced carefully as you navigated the crowd, keeping up appearances. While the gala’s guests indulged in champagne, Red stood there, alone, like a sentinel guarding his secrets.
Bucky glanced toward Red, sizing him up. “So, what’s the plan? Subtle or do we make a scene?”
“Subtle,” you confirmed. “If we tip him off, we lose our only chance to swipe the drive clean. You’ll handle the distraction. I’ll grab the drive.”
Bucky adjusted his cufflinks and winked. “Let’s hope you’re as good as you say you are.”
You shot him a playful glare before he slipped into the crowd, your eyes fixed on Red. In moments like these, your instincts kicked in. The mission was clear, and any hint of nerves you might have felt melted away.
You approached Red cautiously, hiding your face from him. You didn’t need to engage him—only slip your hand into his bag when he wasn't looking.
As if right on cue, Bucky bumped into a waiter just enough to send champagne crashing to the floor, apologising profusely. It was a small diversion, but it was all you needed. Red’s head snapped toward the noise, giving you the window you needed. In a fluid, silent movement, you reached for the hard drive, snatching it without a sound.
There was something still so familiar about him that you couldn’t place.
By the time you and Bucky reached the bar, the hard drive was already nestled safely in your purse.
"That was smooth, even for you." Bucky commented, pretending to be interested in the drink in his hand. He leaned casually against the counter. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous spark that always seemed to make your heart race a little faster.
You gave him a playful smile and shrugged. “I’m a woman of many talents.”
“I’m starting to see that.” His voice full of that teasing, flirtatious tone he’d been using all night. He leaned in a little, his shoulder brushing against yours. “You’re full of surprises.”
“You’re just easily impressed, Barnes.”
“Trust me,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a teasing glint. “I’ve seen plenty.”
You felt dizzy, but it had nothing to do with the champagne in your hand that you didn't even intend to drink. You shook your head, unable to stop the grin forming at your lips. “You know,” you started, moving just a little bit closer to him, “I’m starting to think you like working with me.”
Bucky had been flirting with you all night—more boldly than usual. And, God help you, you were loving it. 
Though you weren’t sure it meant anything to him, it was time you flirted back.
Bucky laughed, playfully dancing around the question, leaving it open ended. He leaned casually against the bar, his voice low and smooth as he shot you a sidelong glance.
Bucky chuckled, his eyes flicking over your face, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks burn. “So what now, doll?” he murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue so effortlessly that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Mission is over. We have time to kill.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at the sound of doll coming from his lips. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”
The air between you felt electric. The crowd around you blurred into the background as Bucky’s gaze bravely held yours. He moved just a little closer, his shoulder pressing gently against yours, his lips hovering near your ear.
“And what might that be?” he murmured, his voice dripping with that scruffy tone that had been driving you crazy all night.
You opened your mouth to respond, your heart hammering in your chest, but the moment was cut short when you heard someone call your name.
You turned sharply, searching for the source. Bucky straightened, once again alert, scanning the room alongside you.
It was Red—the man with the red hair, now striding toward you with purpose. He called your name again, louder this time. Something about the way he said your name sent a chill down your spine. 
How does he know me? Are we compromised? Thoughts ran through your mind like a warning bell. You glanced at Bucky, and the concern on his face mirrored your own.
Red reached you, stopping a few feet away. Slowly, he raised his hands to his mask and pulled it away to reveal a face you hadn’t seen in years, and you weren’t pleased at this reunion. It was the face of the man who had shattered your world when he left you at the altar.
Ethan.
Your breath almost choked you. The years had changed him; his once softer features were now more brutal. Sharper. His once natural hair was now dyed a shocking red. He had bulked up, more defined than you remembered him being. So many parts of him were unrecognisable, but there was no mistaking those eyes. Those were the same eyes that once upon a time had looked at you with so much love and promise. The idea that you’d been close enough to him to swipe the drive made you feel sick.
"Surprised to see me?" Ethan said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. His gaze flicked over to Bucky, who was standing impossibly still. If his stare could kill, Ethan would already be dead.
"You look good," Ethan continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Better than the last time I saw you."
"I didn't know you still ran in these circles.” You swallowed hard, trying to not show weakness. “What brings you here tonight, Ethan?" you finally asked, your voice colder than you'd intended.
Bucky winced. He recognized the name. You’ve told him about your failed wedding, and he had no sympathy for the man who had broken your heart.
A slow smirk spread across his face. "Work. Same as you, I imagine.’" 
You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding, a strange relief rolling over you. At least he didn't know that you had stolen the drive from him. At least he didn't suspect a thing.
He gestured toward Bucky. "And you’ve upgraded. Congressman Barnes, right?"
Bucky stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, his voice low and dangerous. "We’re not here to chat."
Ethan's smirk widened. "I’m sure you’re not." His gaze shifted between you and Bucky, and dark mischief flickered in his eyes. "But I have to ask— does he know? Does the Congressman know just how much you loved being used?"
You clenched your fists, but before you could respond, Bucky took another step forward, his face a mask of controlled anger. "Watch it," he growled.
Ethan’s grin didn’t falter. In fact, it grew. "What’s wrong, Barnes?" He chuckled darkly, leaning in as if to share a secret. "are you just using her too?"
Before Bucky could react, you placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Bucky," you warned softly. You couldn’t afford to cause a scene now, not here, not with this many eyes on both of you. "He’s not worth it."
Bucky’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes locked onto Ethan’s. You heard the soft whir of his vibranium arm as his hands tightened into a fist. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to listen. To your relief, he exhaled a sharp breath through his nose, stepping back slightly.
You turned to Ethan, forcing your voice to remain calm, even though your blood was boiling. "We’re just colleagues, Ethan."
“Of course,” Ethan laughed, shaking his head, though you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. "I should’ve known. She always preferred confident men. I don’t think she likes her men broken." he said with a venomous sneer, his eyes gleaming with malice. The insult had clearly hit its mark. You saw a flash of pain flicker across Bucky’s face before he masked it with a blank stare.
The words stung more than he’d like to admit.
Insulting you was one thing. You expected it from him. But Bucky? He had crossed a line. You stepped closer to him, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "I know who you’re working for, Ethan." The subtle threat in your tone was unmistakable, “And it won't end well.” 
For the first time, you saw his shit-eating grin drop.
His face tensed, just for a moment. Knowing that you had rattled him, that your words had struck a nerve? It was enough to give you a small sense of satisfaction.
“Let’s get out of here,” you finally told Bucky while Ethan stayed frozen, unable to find a way to respond.
You turned on your heel and walked away. Bucky was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm, his voice low and full of concern. “You okay?”
You nodded, but the truth was, you weren’t sure. Ethan’s attendance had thrown you off balance, bringing up emotions you thought you had buried six feet underground. 
As you walked out the grand doors, your mind drifted to Bucky—his protectiveness, his flirtation. It was all too confusing for you. Was he just doing his job, or was there something more? You didn’t know, and right now, you doubt you have the energy to figure all of this out.
The drive back to the safe house was quiet, the tension in the car thick enough to strangle you. Bucky didn’t push, didn’t ask questions, but you could feel his concern as he focused on the road in front of him. It wasn’t until you got to the small cottage on the edge of the city, that you even felt safe from prying eyes and ears. This cottage was a safehouse that was used for SHIELD agents, back in the day. After Hydra and SHIELD were taken down, Fury had given The Avengers and their associates full access to all of the remaining uncompromised safehouses across the country. 
When you got inside, you finally let your guard down. 
You barely made it to the couch before collapsing onto it, your hands shaking as you tried to control the tears threatening to spill over.
“Talk to me,” Bucky said softly, sitting beside you. He was close, but you wished he was closer. His demeanour was gentle, patient. It’s as if he could see the storm raging inside you. It’s like he was knocking on the door to your soul and was simply waiting for you to let him in.
For a long moment, you just sat there. You stared at your trembling hands, unsure where to start. The weight of the past, the present, and Ethan all dragged down on you like an anchor to a ship.
“He left me,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible, as though saying it aloud would make it worse. You had been strong enough to put on a face at the gala, but here? You felt small. Pathetic.
“I know,” Bucky said quietly. 
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “He left me at the altar. No explanation. Nothing. I never saw him again after that. Until today.”
Bucky didn’t say anything, but you could feel the shift in his body language. There was a simmering anger that only seemed to appear when something—or someone—hurt the people he cared about. 
He had heard you talk about Ethan before. You had your days, where you thought you should call him— not to get back together, but to get some kind of closure. Bucky had always told you not to, that it would just do more harm than good. And that interaction just proved him right.
“I thought I was over it,” you confessed, your voice cracking as you wiped the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “But seeing him… it just— hurt me.” Your voice broke, and you shook your head.
“He’s an asshole,” Bucky said after a beat, his voice low and sure. You knew some of Ethan’s comments hurt him, too, more than he would ever care to admit.
“I just— I thought he loved me, you know?” You brushed away more tears. “I thought I was enough.”
Bucky’s expression darkened, a rare flicker of something secretive passing over his eyes. He leaned forward, catching your gaze with a kind of intensity that made your breath hitch.
“You are more than enough,” he said quietly, his voice steady but fierce. “People like him … they don’t know what they have until they lose it. And he lost the best thing he could ever possibly have.”
You blinked, stunned by the sincerity of his words. Sure, he had flirted with you all night, but there was something serious in his tone that you’ve never noticed before. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, trying to process the gravity of what he was saying.
“Bucky…” you whispered, your heart fluttering in your chest, but this time not our of hurt.
But he didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t back down. “You deserve better than him,” he continued softly. “You deserve someone who sees you for who you are. Someone who would never be stupid enough let you go.”
The words lingered between you, and you suddenly realised just how close he was sitting, how the air around you seemed to buzz with something new, something you hadn’t fully acknowledged, not really.
Bucky had always been there for you, from the day you were first paired up for a mission together. He was a comforting presence in your life, but this… this was different. The way he was looking at you now, the way his voice had wrapped around those words—it was as if he were trying to tell you something more. Something he was too scared to tell.
For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, Bucky Barnes was offering you more than just a friendship.
That night, you couldn’t sleep. Bucky’s words had echoed through your mind like a whirlwind of thoughts you weren’t sure how to handle.
You tossed and turned. You were no longer trying to shake off the lingering pain from seeing Ethan anymore. Instead, it was Bucky who filled your thoughts now. The way he had comforted you, the way he had looked at you like you were worth more than you had ever given yourself credit for. 
You couldn’t stop replaying his words in your mind. You deserve better. Someone who’d never let you go. 
He always knew what to say. He always knew exactly what you needed to hear, even if you hadn’t realised it yourself.
The feelings you had for Bucky—they had been there for a while, hadn’t they? Subtle at first, easily dismissed as friendship, as a harmless crush. But now, after everything you’ve been through, you could not deny your feelings any longer.
Bucky meant more to you than you had ever let yourself admit.
This realisation was both exhilarating and terrifying.  But what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were just projecting your own emotions? What if you’re reading too much into his words?
No, you thought, shaking your head. You couldn’t keep running from this. You needed to talk to him. You needed to know. You needed him to know.
The next morning, you woke up to find Bucky sitting at the kitchen table in the safe house, eating the last bit of his pancakes. He looked up when you entered the room, his eyes softening.
“Hey,” he said quietly, giving you a small smile. He slid across a second plate of pancakes with maple syrup that he had made for you. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you replied honestly, sitting opposite of him. “Thanks to you.”
He gave a small shrug, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I didn’t do much.”
“You did more than you realise,” you said softly, feeling your heart start to race in your chest. 
You started eating breakfast, sighing at how tasty it is. This was just a ritual. You enjoyed sharing safe houses with Bucky. Though you loved that he always made you breakfast, you loved his company more. You wondered how long he had been awake, waiting for you. 
You read at the clock as you stuffed the last bit of pancake in your mouth. “Murdock will be here in two hours.” you glanced at the hard drive that sat on a kitchen counter. I hope that’s worth it, Matt, you thought to yourself.
After a moment of silence, you called, “Buck?”
Something flickered in his eyes, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, your courage. “Yesterday, when you said I deserved better… Did you mean it?”
Bucky’s expression softened, and for a moment, you saw something vulnerable in his eyes, something he rarely let anyone see. “Of course,” he said quietly. 
Your heart twisted and you took a deep breath. Your voice trembled slightly, fully aware of the information you’re about to disclose to him. “And what if… what if I already found someone l think I deserve?”
Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. There was a bit of fear, of nervousness behind those sky blue eyes. His hand tightened around his coffee mug. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“I think…” you said, your voice barely audible, “I think I’m in love with you. I’ve been for a while now.”
The silence that followed was deafening, and for a split second, you thought you had made a mistake. Maybe you had misread everything? 
Calming your spiralling thoughts, Bucky gently placed his hand on top of yours.
“I’m in love with you too,” he admitted quietly, “For much longer than I care to admit.”
For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, slowly, you stood up from your chair and moved around the table, stopping in front of him. Bucky stood as well, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
But there was none.
You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him. 
Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips were softer that you had imagined. It was slow and gentle, brimming with pent up emotions that had been building for far too long.
When you finally pulled away you felt breathless. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close.
“You deserve more than that prick has ever given you,” he whispered, his voice bitter at the mention of the man he had met last night. “And I want to be the person to give you everything you deserve.”
Your heart thrummed at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest—the pain from your past—was finally beginning to fade.
“I know.” You stayed there for a long moment, your forehead pressed against his. The world outside the cottage felt so far away, all the hurt and confusion replaced by this new, fragile hope blooming between you.
“I’ve waited a long time to kiss you,” Bucky murmured in amazement. His voice barely above a whisper. His fingers were still tracing light patterns along your jaw. “I didn’t think I ever would.”
You smiled softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. 
You leaned in again, capturing his lips in another gentle kiss. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your lips moved in tandem with each other, hands running up and down his body. His lips tasted of the sweet vanilla scent he always smelled of. You felt the edges of his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.
Just as you began to drown in the moment, the door to the cottage creaked open. A familiar voice filled the room. "I hope I’m not interrupting,” Matt Murdock said dryly from the doorway, “but boy am I glad I can’t see.”
You froze, Bucky’s lips still hovering just inches from yours. A small nervous laugh escaped your throat. 
Bucky groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as if to hide from the embarrassment. “Perfect timing, Murdock,” he muttered, his voice muffled against skin. In your defence, he was way early.
“You didn’t lock the door.” Matt chuckled as he stepped into the cottage, “Very careless for two superheroes with very sensitive information.”
Bucky sighed, not seeing a flaw in his logic, but when he lifted his head, there was a playful gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, well, you could’ve knocked.”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh again. The way Bucky’s arm stayed wrapped protectively around you, even with Matt there, made your heart flutter.
Matt grinned, as if sensing the shift between the two of you, one that he hadn’t noticed in previous encounters. “I can tell you’re both smiling like idiots right now.”
“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing the drive and tossing it in towards the lawyer. He caught it in mid air and tucked it into his suit pocket.
“Well,” Matt said, “I’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it. Next time, maybe let me know when you’re, uh, busy?”
You laughed, cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Will do."
As Matt exited the cottage, leaving you alone again with Bucky, the two of you shared a look, bursting into laughter. Bucky leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and whispered, “Should I lock the door?”
“Good idea,” you teased, watching him quickly turn the keys and the deadlock, before picking you up, throwing you over your shoulder and running into one of the bedrooms like an excited teenage boy.
The world outside could wait. Right now, everything you needed— everything you deserved— was right here.
-end
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luveline · 1 year ago
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how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee
tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 
Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 
"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 
"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 
You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 
Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 
Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 
What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 
Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 
"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.
Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 
"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 
"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 
You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 
Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 
From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.
No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 
Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 
Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.
"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 
That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 
"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 
You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 
Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"
The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."
"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 
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