#and i have to walk back through like half the damn area every time i die bc theres no closer bench

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

Nighttime visitor

simon "ghost" riley x reader tags: fem reader, medical/wounds descriptions, brief mention of period, burns, he´s scary but nice, fluff kinda, english is not my first language

this is inspired by a personal experience in one of my many stays in hospitals, enjoy

For the tenth time, you check your phone.

12:15am, is not that late.

Sleep is determined to elude you, the plastic covers over the thin mattress scratch the skin on your back and the distant beeps are about to make you lose what little sanity you have left. There´s no TV to not disturb the rest of the patients so that isn´t an option either.

“This is stupid”

Kicking off the covers, you stuffed your feet into your Crocs and grabbed your hoodie from the corner of the bed, almost knocking over the IV pole and pausing for a few seconds to mutter a curse.

This is so stupid

You spent a day and a half in observation, “perks” of being admitted on a weekend. Yes, you fainted at work, no, it's no big deal, you just burned yourself out as usual, but combined with the lack of sleep and the surprise arrival of your period, your brain decided that it had enough of your shit and just turned off the lights in the middle of your office.

Is this a cry for help from your body? Maybe, you've decided that's a conversation for another time, right now you're sick of this damn hospital.

You leave your room as casually as possible. The nurse at the end of the corridor hasn't seen you, or has simply decided to ignore you.

Right now there is only one place in your mind: the open space with a view of greenery in the middle of the visitors' area.

However, as soon as you walk down the stairs to the second wing of the hospitalization area, something catches your attention.

Is that music?

The area seems deserted, so a room with a soft glow coming from the gap between double doors and the big NO VISITORS sign stands out.

Curiosity won and you changed course to take a peek. There was a man in bed. One of his legs was propped up by some sort of medical pillow, and bandages covered some parts of his body. There was a laptop on the overbed table, and there seemed to be a film playing.

You were so engrossed in trying to figure him out that you almost jumped out of your skin when his voice reached you.

"You're not staff"

His voice is a deep baritone. He sounds relaxed and not at all scared of your presence. His eyes are sharp even in the dim light and the room feels small for him.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry!" You try to talk in a low voice, poking your head through the door. "No no, I'm from the third wing, I'm just stretching my legs, sorry to bother you"

Pausing whatever he is seeing in the laptop he assessed at you for a moment.

"Come closer"

Despite being in such a vulnerable position, his voice is commanding and it feels that the only reason he is asking you to come is because he can't do it himself in his state.

An accent colours his words. British?

You entered the room with measured steps, the smell of alcohol and cleaning products is particulary strong. Stopping at the end of his bed you can get a better look at him: huge, menacing, like a wounded lion, no matter how battered it still send chills down your spine. One of his arms is in a sling, there´s some cuts and abrasions in almost every part of his body and his good arm, covered in tattoos, is wrapped with the IV and the blood pressure cuff. But his leg is the worst. The wound is extensive, the skin is angry red and swollen at the edges.

He notices your staring immediately.

"It's burned. Needs to be kept raw for it to heal and isolated to avoid infection"

His tone sounds bored and unimpressed while he shifts on his pillows, trying to get some comfort in his seated position.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I heard your laptop... I thought we couldn't keep stuff like that here"

There´s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"They don't like to confine me with other patients, I make them nervous, so they let me have some privileges"

“How…?”

He suddenly extended his good arm to loudly drag closer a chair, interrupting your question and making you flinch at the sound.

"You can stay if you keep silent"

He pressed play on his laptop, repositioned himself in bed and his eyes glued to the screen again, as if you weren't there at all.

The hairs in the back of your neck stands up in alert, but something in his voice tells you that comply with him will always be the best option, so you moved closer to him and sat down next to his bed, tucking your legs.

The first minutes passed with you stiff in the chair, but time went on sliding in a comfortable silence, actually enjoying some of the movie.

By the time you started to doze off it was almost 2am, his cold fingers on your neck what woke you up, making you gasp softly.

He laughs hoarsely, definitely enjoying every time he can get a scare out of you “Movie´s over birdie, go to your room”

You blink the sleep off, getting up abruptly and remembering that you willingly secluded yourself with a stranger in the middle of the night just because you were bored.

“Yes, you must be tired, I´ll go” You grab the chair to returned it to its previous position when his hand closes tightly around your wrist.

“Ask for Riley”

“What?”

“From now on, at visiting hours ask for Riley, they´ll bring you to me”

He doesn't let go, he waits for your answer and your mouth dries up with fear, you don't know this man, he's scary, hell, you'll be fired soon. But once again something urges you to say yes.

��I though you didn´t want visitors”

“I changed my mind”

THANK YOU FOR READING dividers are from @thecutestgrotto

[wpmz]

hollow knight has been great so far because whenever i don't feel like doing a boss that i'm stuck on i can just backtrack for a bit and find like 2 new areas i didn't realize i now had access to

[loganbcrnes]

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved. 

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower. 

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time. 

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him. 

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly. 

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form.  Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha. 

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you. 

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy. 

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming. 

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him. 

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size. 

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him. 

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it. 

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge. 

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before. 

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared. 

“And I love that you’re mine.”

[darylslittlebitch]

twd characters showing their jealousy x fem!reader

characters: daryl, rick, negan, carl, glenn and maggie.

writer's note: jealousy hits different, huh? catch ya later with more drama! stay tuned! requests are open ;)

daryl

The last training session with Rick had ended, and although you were still no expert, at least you weren’t wasting as many bullets anymore.

"You’re getting better," Rick commented with a half-smile, crossing his arms as he watched you.

"I still have a lot to learn," you admitted, smiling humbly.

Rick nodded. "All in due time. The important thing is that now you can defend yourself better if you need to."

You thanked him before saying goodbye and walking back. But then you saw him.

Daryl was leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes, darkened under the shadow of his bangs, were silently watching you, but there was no need for him to speak for you to know what was going on.

You bit your lip, holding back a smile. Daryl would never admit he was jealous, and there was nothing more endearing than seeing him like this, struggling against his own emotions.

You approached him calmly, as if you hadn’t noticed his attitude. When you were close enough, you slid your hands softly over his chest, trying to relax the tension in his muscles.

"You’ve been avoiding me," you murmured with a touch of feigned drama, leaning in to look him in the eye.

Daryl huffed, looking away. "Don’t say stupid shit."

You let out a little laugh and rested your head against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart. "I missed you."

He took a moment to react, but when he did, his arm slowly slid around your back, pulling you a little closer to him.

"I missed you too," he admitted quietly, as if it was hard for him to let those words out.

You smiled against his shirt. "So, what’s going on?"

Daryl sighed, running a hand over his face before finally looking at you.

"It’s nothing... It’s just that lately you’ve been spending more time with Rick."

There it was. He didn’t say it outright, but the intent was clear.

"Ohhh," you dragged the word out teasingly, bringing a finger to your lips in a thoughtful gesture. "Could it be that someone is... jealous?"

Daryl clicked his tongue and looked away. "Don’t say bullshit."

You chuckled softly, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before hugging him more tightly. "You know you don’t have to compete with anyone, right? My heart only knows your name."

He didn’t respond, but his grip on your waist tightened.

After a few seconds of silence, Daryl spoke with his usual rough tone, but softer than usual. "I wanted to see if you wanted to practice with the crossbow. And after... we could take the bike out for a ride. Like before."

Your smile widened, delighted by the idea. "That sounds perfect."

Daryl nodded, but before you could pull away, he leaned his head down and pressed his lips to your temple in a silent gesture of affection.

rick

The atmosphere in Alexandria grew tense every time Negan showed up with his group of Saviors, as if a dark storm settled over the community, absorbing all sense of security. And today was no exception.

Negan strolled through the area with his characteristic carefree gait, Lucille resting on his shoulder while his eyes scanned everyone with that mocking gaze that made Rick’s blood boil. But the worst part wasn’t the public humiliation, or even him stripping them of their supplies. The worst part was the way Negan spoke to you.

"Well, well, well… if it isn’t my favorite person in this entire damn community," Negan said with that cocky grin when he saw you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe without a hint of subtlety, as if he wanted Rick to notice exactly what he was doing. "How is it that every time I come around, you look even more goddamn gorgeous, huh?"

You didn’t flinch. You knew that any strong reaction would only give him more reasons to continue with his little game.

"It must be the walker blood; Eugene has this theory that it has surprisingly positive properties for the skin," you responded with a smirk that wasn’t quite a smile, your tone conveying pure coldness and indifference, but without making your displeasure too obvious.

Negan laughed that deep, mocking laugh that made all of Rick’s muscles tense.

"Shit, baby, why do you have to be so goddamn interesting? You know, I was thinking... how about you leave all this misery behind and come to the Sanctuary with me? You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. Food, security... and of course, my irresistible company."

You could feel Rick burning with anger from where he stood. His hands were clenched into fists, but he couldn’t do anything. Not without devastating consequences.

You kept your composure. "As generous as ever, Negan, but I don’t think my presence would be well received among your followers. And I don’t think you’d want to deal with the problems that would cause."

Negan tilted his head, amused. "Problems? Shit, baby! I love problems. And you’re exactly the kind of problem I’d like to have."

Rick let out a heavy breath but said nothing. He couldn’t. Negan glanced at him from the corner of his eye, enjoying the show.

"Well, sweetheart, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." Negan winked at you before turning and heading back to his men.

The group of Saviors left, and the silence that followed was suffocating. Rick remained still, staring at the entrance as if he could still see Negan there.

"Rick," you called softly, but he didn’t respond.

Finally, he let out a long sigh and rubbed his hand across his beard in frustration.

"This is bullshit."

You stepped closer, gently touching his arm. "I know."

Rick clenched his jaw, his eyes meeting yours with an exhausted intensity. "I can’t do anything. I feel… useless. Not just as a leader, but… as a man. I can’t protect this community. I can’t protect you. And he knows it."

"Rick," you said firmly, placing both hands on his shoulders. "You don’t need to protect me from Negan. I know how to handle him. I don’t fall for his provocations, I don’t insult his ego, but I don’t give him what he wants either. He doesn’t scare me."

Rick lowered his head, but you didn’t let him sink further into his dark thoughts.

"Listen to me. You haven’t failed. You keep us alive. You give us hope. And I know it seems impossible right now, but we will find a way out of this."

He nodded, but there was still something in his gaze.

"I’m just worried that one day Negan will go from words to actions," he admitted quietly.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Rick looked at you, frowning, clearly confused.

"What’s so funny?"

"If Negan tried anything more than words with me, I’ll make sure he’ll be without the balls he brags so much about."

Rick blinked, then let out a brief, tired laugh, but a genuine one.

"God, I love you," he murmured, and this time, when he hugged you, he did so with strength, as if in that moment he could regain some of the control Negan had been trying to take from him.

negan

It had been a long day at the Sanctuary. The supplies from the last expedition were still being organized, the workers kept their heads down as they went about their tasks, and you were right in the middle of it all, as always, making sure everything ran smoothly.

At some point in the afternoon, you ran into Dwight, who was supervising the Saviors working in the warehouse. You’d worked with him enough to know his less ruthless side, the one he tried to hide behind his façade of loyalty to Negan. Talking to him was easy, even though life at the Sanctuary was never easy.

So when you made a comment about how tired you were and Dwight, with a half-smile, joked about giving you a special break if it were up to him, you didn’t pay it much attention.

But someone did.

From across the hall, Negan had stopped, watching the interaction with a dark, dangerous look. He didn’t say anything at the time, but the air in the Sanctuary seemed to grow heavier. As soon as Dwight walked away, you noticed Negan was still there, his expression one that only meant trouble.

You ignored him for a while, pretending you hadn’t noticed his intense stare. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

And you were right.

Later that night, when you returned to the room Negan had assigned you (which was really his room), as soon as you crossed the door, his voice greeted you with the same gravity he always used when he was holding something back.

"So, baby... care to tell me what the hell was that with Dwight boy?"

You turned on your heels, finding him standing by the table, one hand resting on the wooden surface, the other gripping his bat, Lucille. He wasn’t swinging it violently, but the mere fact that he had it in his hands said everything.

You frowned, crossing your arms. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Negan let out a brief, humorless laugh before slowly walking toward you. "Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw it. I saw how he was looking at you, how he dared to joke with you like he had the goddamn right to do it." He leaned in slightly, his eyes burning with jealousy masked as mockery. "Tell me something... has Dwight forgotten his damn place?"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please, Negan. It was just a joke. It was nothing."

But Negan didn’t seem convinced.

"Nothing?" His voice dropped lower, almost a deep whisper. "Let me tell you something, baby... nothing is what’ll be left of Dwight if he keeps thinking he can even look at you like that. Because, and listen closely, sweetheart, you only belong to me. Got it?"

Your heart sped up, but not out of fear. There was something about the way Negan reacted, the intensity of his gaze, the way he spoke with that mix of threat and possession. It drove you crazy.

So you decided to play along.

"And what are you going to do about it, Negan?" you asked provocatively, stepping a little closer.

Negan's eyes gleamed with something dark, something primal. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from yours, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I'm going to remind you," he whispered with a dangerous smile, "why no other son of a bitch can even dream of having you."

His hand grabbed your waist firmly, pulling you harshly toward him. His grip was dominant, demanding your attention, his body radiating heat, the tension between you both turning into a burning fire.

His mouth descended to your ear, his breath brushing your skin as he murmured in his raspy voice, "Tell me, sweetheart... do you like to provoke me?"

You didn’t respond immediately, just proceeded to lick the side of his face as you held his challenging gaze, enjoying how his self-control seemed to crack.

Negan let out a low, dangerous laugh, his long fingers touching the saliva on his skin. "Fuck… you’re a goddamn problem, did you know that?"

Before you could reply, his lips crashed against yours with a force that left you breathless. There was no softness in that kiss, only pure hunger, raw need, and possessiveness. His hands roamed over your back, gripping you as if he wanted to make sure you would never pull away.

He lifted you with ease, making you gasp against his mouth as he carried you to the bed.

"I’m going to make you forget Dwight’s fucking name," he growled against your skin, sliding his lips down your neck. "I’m going to make you think of nothing but me."

His mouth continued its descent, leaving burning marks on every spot it touched. His hands moved over your body with a mix of roughness and devotion, as if he were claiming every inch of you.

And in that moment, you knew Negan fully intended to keep his promise.

carl

Alexandria had always been a refuge for those who managed to reach its gates, but you never imagined that among the new survivors, you would find someone from your past.

Not just anyone. Your ex-boyfriend.

The initial shock was strong, but the apocalypse had already hardened you enough not to be swayed by past emotions. At the end of the day, survival was what mattered, and if he had made it this far, it meant he had something to offer. Rick and the others accepted him into the community after questioning him and making sure he wasn’t a threat.

Carl, however, didn’t say a word.

At first, you thought he simply didn’t care. Carl was like that—always quiet, always analyzing everything from the shadows with that sharp, calculating gaze he had inherited from his father. But as the days passed and you noticed his attitude toward you, you started to suspect there was something more.

Carl didn’t look at you the same way. He didn’t seek your company like before. And when you were with the others, you could feel his presence behind you—always watching, always distant.

But you really noticed it when you were with your ex.

He had adapted quickly, helping where he could and always finding an excuse to spend time with you. It wasn’t surprising—you had shared a history before the world collapsed. You talked about the past, about moments you had almost forgotten. And even though you no longer felt the same way about him, it was a nice reminder that not everything had always been shit.

But Carl didn’t see it that way.

You realized it one afternoon when you were sitting on the porch steps, talking with your ex about old times. You laughed at something he said and, when you looked up, you saw Carl leaning against a wall not far away.

His gaze was dark, cold.

He didn’t do anything, didn’t interrupt, didn’t even try to approach. But the message was clear.

He didn’t like it.

That night, after everyone had gone to rest, you decided to look for him. You found him in the watchtower, standing with his rifle in hand, watching the horizon.

"Are you going to keep acting like an idiot, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?"

Carl didn’t even turn to look at you. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

You climbed the steps and stood beside him, crossing your arms. "Yes, you do. You’ve been acting weird ever since he arrived."

Silence.

Carl clenched his jaw and looked away.

"I don’t trust him," he finally muttered.

You rolled your eyes. "Rick already questioned him. He’s not a threat."

"I don’t mean that," he said, and this time, he did look at you. His eyes were dark, intense. "I mean you."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you hid it well.

Carl set his rifle aside and ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t get why you keep spending so much time with him. He’s your ex."

You looked at him, now fully understanding what was going on.

Carl had hurt you with his silence these past few days because he was jealous.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. It was strange, but seeing him like this—so serious, so tense… you liked it.

"Carl?"

"What?"

You leaned in slightly. "Are you jealous?"

His expression didn’t change, but you noticed the way his throat moved when he swallowed.

"No."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "God, Carl, you are. You’re completely jealous."

This time, he turned his whole body toward you, frowning. "I’m not jealous. I just think it’s a complete waste of time to talk to someone who clearly only wants one thing from you."

You crossed your arms, enjoying this more with every word he said. "And what exactly does he want from me?"

Carl didn’t answer right away.

Then, in a completely unexpected move, he took a step toward you, closing the distance between you both.

"He wants what’s mine."

The air caught in your throat.

Carl didn’t look away. He stayed silent, waiting for a response, waiting for you to contradict him. But you didn’t.

Because at that moment, you understood something very clearly.

Carl Grimes didn’t fight with empty words. Carl claimed what was his.

And you couldn’t agree more that you were completely his.

glenn

You were focused on cleaning the wound on Abraham’s arm. He had been shot during the last supply run. It wasn’t serious, but it still needed attention.

Glenn was beside you, handing you the medical supplies while you did the more delicate work. It had always been like that with him—teamwork, a perfect sync.

Abraham, on the other hand, seemed more entertained by something else. Or rather, by you.

"You know, doll, if all nurses were as pretty as you, I might just let myself get shot more often."

You let out a small laugh and shook your head, not taking the comment seriously. "That sounds like a terrible survival strategy."

Abraham smirked with his usual carefree air. "Maybe, but if you’re the one patching me up, it doesn’t sound too bad."

Glenn didn’t say anything, but you noticed his hand tense slightly as he passed you another gauze.

"Stop moving," you said, focusing back on the wound.

"Only if you give me a good luck kiss," Abraham insisted, his smirk widening.

This time, you let out a chuckle and playfully smacked his shoulder. "In your dreams, Ford."

Abraham laughed too and finally let you work, though not without tossing another remark your way. "If you ever get tired of this cute Asian guy over here, I can be your new assistant."

Glenn didn’t react at all. He simply kept his gaze fixed on his task, helping you bandage the wound in complete silence.

Once you were done, Abraham stood up with a smug grin and gave you a wink before leaving.

And that’s when you felt it.

The silence around Glenn was too heavy.

You finished putting the supplies away and, without turning around, spoke in a calm voice. "Don’t get weird on me."

Glenn let out a dry chuckle. "I’m not weird."

Now you did turn to face him, crossing your arms. "Yes, you are. You’ve barely said a word since Abraham walked in."

Glenn sighed and ran a hand through his hair, still avoiding your eyes. "It’s nothing."

You frowned and took a step closer. "Glenn."

His jaw tightened, and finally, he lifted his gaze. His dark eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen in him before—frustration.

"It’s just that… I can’t do anything about it."

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

Glenn clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, unconsciously mirroring your stance. "I mean, I can’t tell him to shut up. I can’t tell him to stop flirting with you because, to everyone else, there’s no reason for me to. Because no one knows about us."

Oh.

You let down your guard a little and sighed. "Glenn…"

"And I know you take it as a joke," he continued, his voice a bit lower now. "I know Abraham is just being Abraham, and that it doesn’t really mean anything. But damn, do you know what it’s like to stand there, listening to it all, seeing the way he looks at you, and not being able to do anything? Not being able to say, ‘She’s mine, so back the hell off, you redheaded superiority-complex case’?"

You bit your lip, because you understood his point.

You had never really talked about making it official, about telling the others about your relationship. Not because you wanted to keep it a secret, but because… you had just never felt the need to announce it.

But Glenn did.

And that made you think.

"Are you dying of jealousy, Rhee?" you asked playfully, stepping a little closer.

He rolled his eyes. "It’s not funny."

"It’s a little funny," you teased, leaning slightly toward him. "I like seeing you like this."

Glenn narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn’t."

"But I do."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension in the air felt different—less heavy, but still very much there. Glenn stared at you, evaluating you, as if debating something in his mind.

And then, without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him in one swift motion.

"Alright," he murmured against your lips. "Since you don’t seem to have a problem with it, then tomorrow everyone is going to know about us."

And then, he kissed you.

maggie

You had spent most of the day helping with the harvest, and after finishing, you decided to stay in the improvised library that Jesus had set up with the books he managed to recover during his expeditions. It had become a routine between the two of you: you would pick a book, and he would recommend another one he thought you might like. It was a quiet dynamic, with no pressure—a way to escape, even if just a little, from the harsh reality of the world you lived in.

But when Maggie arrived at Hilltop that afternoon, bringing supplies from Alexandria, you immediately noticed that something was… off.

She wasn’t exactly ignoring you, but there was a dryness in her voice, a hardness in her expression whenever she spoke to you.

“What have you been up to around here?” she asked while unloading the supply crates alongside Enid.

“The usual,” you replied with a smile, wiping your hands on your pants. “Helping with the harvest and… well, Jesus has been lending me some books. I’ve been staying up late reading them.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow, her gaze briefly shifting toward where Jesus stood on the other side of the camp, supervising the food distribution.

“Books, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, still unaware of the tension in her voice. “He’s got a great collection. It’s rare to find someone who values books so much these days.”

Maggie crossed her arms and leaned against the nearest table. “Well, how considerate of him.”

You blinked at her tone. “Maggie… are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she answered without hesitation.

A lie.

You tried to read her expression, but Maggie was good at hiding her emotions when she wanted to. Still, there was a stiffness in her shoulders, a lack of warmth in her gaze that told you something was definitely off.

You tried to lighten the mood with a playful smile. “Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous.”

Maggie clicked her tongue and looked away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

But there it was.

A confirmation disguised as denial.

You decided to push her just a little more, just to see how far she’d go.

“Because if you were,” you continued casually, “it would be adorable.”

Her eyes snapped back to you immediately, this time flashing with a warning. “Don’t play with me.”

You chuckled softly. “Who’s playing? I like seeing Maggie Greene with that look on her face.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a crate, using it as an excuse to keep her hands busy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” you insisted, following her as she tried to ignore you. “You’ve been acting weird with me since you got here. Colder, more… distant.”

Maggie set the crate down with more force than necessary. “I’m not acting weird. I just find it surprising how close you’ve gotten to Jesus lately.”

You smirked. “Maggie.”

“What?”

“Admit it.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tightening.

“Admit it, and I’ll leave you alone,” you added, leaning in slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes.

Maggie held your gaze for a few seconds, then let out a heavy sigh, finally giving in. “Fine.”

“Fine what?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Maybe… just a little.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. “A little what?”

She exhaled in frustration and muttered, almost through gritted teeth, “Maybe I’m a little bit jealous.”

You took her hands gently, making her look at you. “You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Jesus is my friend. You’re the only one who matters to me that way.”

Maggie watched you in silence, as if trying to decide whether to believe your words. Finally, her lips curved into a small smile.

“You better mean that,” she said, her tone still carrying a hint of wounded pride.

You kissed her cheek, noticing how her shoulders finally relaxed. “I love you.”

And even if she didn’t say it out loud, you knew that the next time you came to Hilltop, Maggie would make sure Jesus knew exactly where he stood.

[myth1cs]

Obedience Through Discipline (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Smut; An officer not listening to their superior is a clear sign of disobedience. Luckily nothing a bit of discipline can't fix. Word Count: 3,021

The hard part was already over. Now that you've finished the training phase now you could finally start doing some actual work. You were assigned to officer Myoui Mina. She was the best officer at the station though many people felt bad for you which you didn't understand why at first.

It didn't take long for you to figure out why. She was always someone who was very stuck up about following the rules. Every mistake you made was followed by a scolding by Mina on why what you did was wrong. While yes you did believe that this line of work didn't have room for mistakes you still felt like she was being too harsh on you.

Things only got worse when she became a sheriff only after a few months since you were partnered with her. Even though time after time she had clearly expressed her disdain for you she never made an attempt to get you fired. In fact ever since she became sheriff it felt like she was keeping a closer eye on you. And you'd be lying if you said it wasn't making you nervous.

During your break you were sitting in your patrol car alone since your partner Nayeon decided to have her break inside. While you were eating your lunch you heard a knocking on your window. You looked up and saw that it was none other than sheriff Mina.

You rolled down your window and greeted her. "Hello sheriff Mina. Can I help you with anything?"

"You know about the parade happening downtown next week right?"

"Of course, what about it?"

"Well Ryujin got injured in the line of duty yesterday and the doctor said she wouldn't be fit to come into work for the next 2 months. So now I need someone to replace her for patrolling the area around the parade. I'm guessing you can see where I'm going with this."

This was a surprise to you. Why was she asking you anyway? There were officers who have been serving longer in the police force which she respected more that would be available to take over Ryujin's shift.

"With all due respect sheriff I believe others may be more qualified than me. Why not try asking officer Kyujin or-"

"I don't think you understand Y/N. This isn't a request, it's an order. You WILL be the one patrolling the area during next week's parade."

You let out a sigh knowing that there was no debating this with her. Once Mina makes up her mind her decision is final.

"Alright sheriff."

You rolled back up your window and Mina walked back towards the station. "Damn brat, who does he think he is trying to tell me how to do my job? Tsk, it's my fault for letting his disobedience go on for too long. I'll have to do something about that."

Breathing a sigh of relief you were glad that the encounter went rather well. Usually she would scold you for trying to talk back for at least half an hour but this time she didn't. Though you wondered if this truly was a good thing or if there was another reason behind Mina's actions. But you didn't ponder on that idea for too long. It was silly to think otherwise... or so you thought.

The week flew by in a blink of an eye. Before you knew it it was the day before the parade. You had to attend a meeting about where everyone would be stationed at the parade and what protocols to follow. You weren't really paying attention to Mina's speech though. Not like your role was rather complicated. Just simply patrolling the perimeter, if you see anything suspicious you were to report it.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

Mina's yelling took you out of your thoughts.

"Wh- what happened?"

The whole room had gone silent. Everyone simply stared at you without saying a word. Mina walked towards you and you felt your heartbeat fasten. You felt like your heart was going to explode or that you would faint from nervousness at any moment.

"You think you're too smart for this huh?" Mina said with a mocking tone.

"N- no I would never-"

"Meet me at my office."

Mina walked back to the front of the room. The tension was thick in the air. Everyone paid attention to Mina, everyone was too scared to look away from Mina.

The meeting wasn't supposed to go on for too long. But it felt like it went by in just a few seconds while also feeling like it went on for 5 hours. Everyone avoided you as they left the room. You followed Mina to her office, hands sweating, and your heart was beating so loud you thought everyone in the building could hear it.

Mina unlocked her office door and walked in. Your legs didn't want to move forward. Was it fear? But what were you afraid of? Losing your job or was it something else?

"What are you waiting for Y/N?"

"Pardon me."

You walked in. Mina closed the door behind you and locked it which made you more nervous. "Sit down." Mina commanded as she pointed at a chair. You obeyed and sat down.

"You know what you did wrong?"

"I uhm-"

Mina sat down on her desk crossing her legs. She reached down to grab your chin and lifted it up to make you look at her.

"Look into my eyes as you say it."

"I wasn't listening."

"Say it with your full chest Y/N. I can't hear you."

"I wasn't listening!"

"Not listening to your superior are you Y/N? How troublesome indeed, will I have to punish you for this?"

"No sheriff, I'll behave from now on."

"Good to hear Y/N."

Mina's voice suddenly dropped.

"Cause this is your last warning."

Mina got off her table and went to sit down on her chair behind her desk. "Now get out."

Without hesitation you got up from your chair and made your way out of her office. As you left her office you breathed out a sigh of relief.

You went to your car to drive home but you suddenly bumped into your partner, Nayeon, in the parking lot.

"So Y/N were you fired?"

"What kind of question is that?! No I wasn't fired!"

"Relax Y/N I just had to know. So what did Mina talk to you about?"

"She just told me that this was my last warning."

"Well if that's all then I guess that's rather tame then."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Y/N I don't think I need to spell it out for you. Mina doesn't take things like this very lightly. If it was anyone else I'm sure she would've fired them already. And don't you think that she's been scolding you less recently?"

"Yeah I kinda picked up on it. Maybe this is a sign that she's turning over a new leaf."

"We can only hope so. Still the aura I get from even being in the same room as her is terrifying. I swear she gives off nothing but "Look at me the wrong way and I'll kill you" vibes."

"I swear she's knocked a few years off my life already."

"I feel that, anyways good luck with patrol duty tomorrow."

"Good luck to you to Nayeon."

-

The day of the parade came and you, along with a few other officers, were assigned to patrol the parameter and told to report anything deemed suspicious.

The area you were currently paroling didn't have many people. A few people passed by but nothing suspicious was happening in particular.

As you were walking you saw two people in an ally way. It seemed like they were committing an act of vandalism. While you were ordered to report things this wasn't any suspicious activity it was just people being stupid so you decided to just quickly deal with the situation.

Vandalism isn't something that you would arrest someone for in all honesty it was just a small misdemeanor but realized these were the same people you've had run-ins with these people before. At this point they were just begging for a prison sentence. The sentence for something like this was only up to a year so you didn't feel too bad.

-

Mina put Hwi in charge while she went on her break. For some reason she couldn't shake off the feeling that even though she told you that you were on your last warning you would still not listen to her. She made her way to where you were stationed.

"What the- I give him ONE job and he can't even follow that."

She pulled out her phone and called you. It only rang a few times before you picked up.

"Yes Mina?"

"Where are you?!"

"I'm driving these two people to the station-"

"Damn it you're supposed to report things! Do you even listen to me when I speak to you?!"

"Mina I-"

"I don't want to hear it! Meet me at my office the minute you're off the clock."

"But-" Before you could rebuttal Mina had already hung up.

You knew you were about to lose your job.

-

Once you got back to the parade Mina assigned someone else to stay by your side to make sure that you wouldn't deviate from your job.

The rest of the parade went fine. Nothing major happened that was worth noting. But you couldn't help but wish that it wouldn't end. You weren't prepared to be yelled at by Mina and get fired.

To your dismay the parade ended and so did your shift. You got a good look at yourself in your uniform before you walked to Mina's office knowing this was the last time you would be wearing it.

You had to pull yourself together and muster all your strength and courage to walk to Mina's office. Now you were standing in front of her door and you prepared for the worst.

Putting your hand on the handle and turning it you fully opened the door. Mina was sitting behind her desk sorting some paperwork.

Unsure what to do, you stood at the doorway simply staring at Mina. After a few minutes she looked up and made eye contact with you.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and take a seat in front of me?"

Without saying a word you walked in and closed the door before you went to sit down in front of Mina not daring to make any sort of eye contact with her.

She looked at you for a few seconds before she went to type something on her computer. It seemed like she was just doing work for the sake of it but you couldn't tell.

Eventually she got up and walked up to her board where she had pinned a few documents. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was about time where most people were headed home. Most officers working at this hour were patrolling the downtown area.

Mina sighed and turned to face you. "It's impossible for you to listen. So what should I do with you?"

Was it a rhetorical question?

"I'd much prefer if I could keep my job, sheriff."

"You're almost at your one year mark. And this marks my third month of having to deal with you as sheriff. So..."

"Please don't fire me."

"That's not what I asked so I'll ask again, What should I do with you?"

"Uhm"

"Ran out of excuses have you?"

"I never made excuses sheriff."

Mina took a deep breath.

"Do you know why I'm stringent with the rules Y/N?"

"Because this line of work doesn't have room for failure?"

"Well that's not my main reason. Do you know the main reason?"

"I don't, sheriff."

"It's because I don't want to see people hurt." Mina walked over to you towering over you. "Or maybe I should be more specific. I don't want to see you hurt."

Mina reached behind her back and grabbed handcuffs. She danged them in front of you. "But I can't just let this slip by. I'm going to punish you."

The situation seemed to develop so fast you didn't register what Mina just said until she was handcuffing you.

"Sorry I leave the fuzzy handcuffs at home so we'll have to make do with these."

Part of you was hoping she was joking. Was this really happening, were you about to do it with Mina?!

"Don't do this Mina. Th- this isn't right!"

"Don't speak back to me you filthy brat!"

Mina's sudden outburst scared you and made you quickly shut up not daring to try to speak out of term.

"Now be a good boy for my Y/N. Just sit here and accept your punishment."

Mina got down on her knees and started to undo your pants. There wasn't anything you could do but simply watch. Once she took off your pants she ran her fingers along your thigh.

"P- please stop."

"You want me to stop darling? But your body is reacting so eagerly to my touch. Are you sure you want me to stop?"

She wasn't lying, you were yearning for her touch as much as you wanted to deny it. Before you could respond Mina smacked your thigh. It wasn't too harsh but it stung a little.

"But darling, I thought I told you not to speak out. Don't make me remind you again okay?"

"Ow fuck-"

She smacked you again.

"Drop the language."

"Y- yes ma'am."

Mina kissed your thighs while her fingers were rubbing against your clothed aching cock. You wanted this to continue but you knew this was wrong. It's not like this is standard protocol and she didn't even ask if you were okay with it. Yet you still couldn't help but be turned on by the given situation.

Even though you denied it your body knew what it really wanted. Shivering every time she ran her finger on your body to your cock hardening it was all too obvious.

She could tell you wanted to say something. "If you want to say something then I'm granting you this opportunity to say it."

"Please"

"Please what darling? Use your big boy words now."

"Suck me off Mina please I'm begging you."

"Begging now are we? Well I'm not entirely convinced yet, maybe you should beg me some more and I'll consider listening to you."

"Mina please, I really want you to fuck me until I can't walk. I want to lose all senses and be at your mercy."

Mina giggled at your statement. "Oh darling if you think that's enough to get me to listen to you you're going to have to try a little harder than that I'm afraid."

"Please fuck me Mina! I only crave your touch, I swear I'll listen to every order you give me!"

Mina rubbed her nose against your clothed cock. "That's more like it darling. However since you've been so disobedient then you'll have to make me cum before I give you any pleasure."

She proceeded to stand up and take off her clothes. Mina made sure to take her sweet time taking off her clothes. She knew it was driving you crazy and you wanted to get up and take her clothes off for her but your hands were handcuffed to each other.

Eventually she stripped down to her bra and underwear. Both were the same colour of pink. Mina sat up on her desk and started to rub her pussy using one of her fingers.

Low moans fell out of her mouth as she pleasured herself. You couldn't do anything but watch. You felt yourself get turned on by watching the scene unfold in front of you.

"What are you waiting for darling? Come and make me cum!"

"My hands are tied."

Mina laughed at your comment "I know they are darling. But I didn't put a gag on you did I?"

When you realized what Mina wanted you leaned forward and used your mouth to take off her underwear.

"Just like that darling, make this a learning experience!"

You buried your face onto Mina's pussy and shoved your tongue deep into her. Mina wrapped her legs around you tightly cutting off your air supply. "If you want to breathe then make me cum. Or else you'll suffocate between my thighs. Though I'm guessing you'd be okay with that wouldn't you darling?"

Fastening your pace you licked every inch of Mina's delicious pussy. Part of you wished your hands weren't tied so you could grab her boobs. But the current situation would do.

Though you tried desperately you felt yourself losing consciousness and before you knew it everything went black. "Aw did you pass out already?"

Mina unwrapped her thighs that were around your head and started to finger herself. Wet sounds filled the room as she shoved her fingers in and out of herself while her other hand was on her clit.

You were suddenly woken up by the feeling of something splashing on your face. When your eyes adjusted you realized it must've been Mina's cum.

"Oh your awake again darling?"

"Mina what-"

Another smack was given to you.

"What did I say about speaking out of term? And to think I thought about letting you cum. Since you seem to suck at making me cum and suck at listening to orders then I'll let you sit here and think about your actions."

Mina got up and put her clothes back on and you didn't do anything but watch as she started to leave the room.

"Don't worry darling I'll come and get you early in the morning. Till then think about your actions and I might let you cum first thing in the morning!" Mina said as she left the room closing the door behind her leaving you handcuffed to the chair to think about your actions that led you to this moment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry for not uploading even though I said I would get back on schedule. In my defense I've been reading a really good Lux/Jinx fanfic.

Starring: You Mina, Nayeon (TWICE) Ryujin (ITZY) Kyujin (NMIXX) Hwi (TNX)

[jihoonjuseyo]

hi! this is my first time sending a request 👉👈

When I saw your icon, I immediately thought of a request about being cat parents with woozi! 🐈

literally so cute omg— thank you for requesting!! i’m so honored, and i’m glad i could get this to you quickly! i was just about to change my entire blog appearance but this cat is sort of signature for me ;u; also… i just love the pet-parent aus.

cw: domestic fluff

“she looks like you already,” you’d half-giggle to yourself, your hand coming up to partially cover your smile with your fingers.

you remember it vividly, the first time jihoon met your little kitten. he went in, determined to find the perfect soul-cat that would suit your dynamic well at your shared home. of course you wanted a cat - hell, it your your idea! but aside from what you expected, jihoon didn’t object. he loved pets, just never had the time or space for one. now, he had you to help.

when the kitten came to the view of jihoon’s dark eyes, you didn’t have a chance to speak before he murmured, “this one.” he chose the tired kitten, the one stretched out on its back and refusing to wake as you whispered through the glass

the first few weeks were a train wreck. jihoon thought it would be low maintenance. litter box, cat bowls, beds, toys, a cat tree, stimulation toys - but nobody warned him about the constant scratching on everything but what was meant to be scratched. they also didn’t warn him about the zoomies in the middle of the night. he remembers it clearly, and he thinks about it every night, the time he slept peacefully with you curled towards him, buried in his chest.

it was like an eruption happened in your sleep, the feel of something hitting and bouncing off of your scalps. jihoon would be quick to react, hand holding you down protectively as he rose up in a defensive manner, only to see the cat sprint out of the room.

“what happened?” you’d whine, desperate to lie back down.

“your daughter,” jihoon grumbled, rolling over onto his side and tucking a leg between the two of yours, curling you as close as possible. it took him a solid five minutes to relax before he could sleep again.

the most important, nobody told him how much attention a cat needed. he could hardly eat without the new addition to the family brushing her tail under his nose, he couldn’t leave his laptop open in fear of the cat treading over it and messing things up. he certainly fought to keep the cat from scratching on the bathroom door when he just needed some privacy!

but you saw the other side of things. it was the slight smile he wore when the cat jumped on his legs at the table, something that would annoy others, and flick his nose with her tail before running off. “damn cat,” he’d half-heartedly complain. he knew he loved her.

you always noticed how flustered jihoon would get when he’d get caught being upset that the feline wasn’t following him from room to room. “she followed me all day yesterday.”

“she doesn’t appreciate what she has today,” you’d reply back.

“you’re right. i hope she doesn’t expect attention for the next few days.” as he walks back to his bedroom, you’d see him snatch the cat up from the back of the couch and carry her like a baby to the bedroom with him. so much for that.

the peaceful days were a treasure to jihoon. the mornings where he could wake up with you, bodies chilly from the cool air in the apartment. he’d hear the purring between your bodies and see the perfect little loaf, eyes closed and breathing soft. he blinked, wondering if he’s imagining the smile on her mouth.

and how sweet it was, when jihoon walked into the apartment one day to find you sweeping up a broken bowl, sauce and remanence of your lunch smeared to the floor. “shit- baby, be careful. let me do that,” he’d say, carefully walking to take the dustpan from you. “are you okay?” he’d ask over his shoulder at you. “what happened?”

he watched you pout, folding your arms as you shot a glare to the cat in the middle of the living area, sitting so sweetly and swaying her tail.

“your daughter.” you’d say back to jihoon with a mocking smile, before you watched his lips curl up slightly, his gaze going back to the cleaning project at hand.

“our daughter.” he corrected. “she can’t just be mine when she makes you upset.”

“she can’t just be mine when she does parkour and fifty somersaults on your face while you sleep.” you quickly responded, eyebrows raising as if to challenge him though he couldn’t see you.

you could hear him though, the little laugh he let out as he discarded some of the glass into a plastic bag. “aw, love,” he’d turn around, setting the plastic bag on the ground momentarily to pull your waist close to his, kissing your forehead. “is it good for our daughter to see us go back and forth like this?”

he watched your cheeks turn a darker shade, your eyes glancing towards the cat now licking her paw and cleaning her face. when you looked back at jihoon, you saw that he had you trapped in response. “…. you can have full custody-“

“stop,” he groaned, interrupting you and your pout over your spilled lunch.

[unknownati]

x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me

*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering

warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,

_______________________________________________

a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.

"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.

to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.

your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.

"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.

"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"

"then i don't know, baby."

"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"

ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."

"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."

he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.

"can you check your workroom?"

"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.

"ekko, don't get smart with me."

he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."

you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.

you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.

pink satin.

atop ekko's head.

"i know you fuckin' lying—"

you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.

ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"

you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.

now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.

your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?

"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.

"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"

...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.

[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ ghost ]

SFW

- You didn’t know what to expect being set up by your childhood friend Kyle Garrick

- Having an inkling it would be someone he worked with in the ‘parachute regiment’. So you expected 5’11”, stocky build and maybe a Mohawk?

- What you got was 6’4”, unable to tell what build he had because of the hoodies and a mask?

- He scared you to begin with, especially when you heard his voice. And Simon was used to that, that’s why he didn’t date… he couldn’t remember the last time he had sex or even spoke romantically to a woman.

- You thought about walking out on the date, but held in there. Realising maybe he was so awkward around the other people in the pub. “Wanna take a walk?”

- “Think you can keep up?” That was the first confident thing Simon had said that night.

- Maybe walking along the canal wasn’t the best choice but he seemed harmless, not a serial killer… He leant against the railings… his eyes reflected the street lamp, the night a dreary sight.

- You went to start your car, no such luck- like your date. He hadn’t told you one thing about himself… date failed and now your car refused to work with you. Your phone at 1% charge… you couldn’t even call a taxi.

- When you started to walk to the pub, an off-road jet black 4x4 pulled up beside you. It was Simon. “Car trouble?”

- “Yeah…”

- “Get in.” Was it a bad idea to jump into the car of someone you’d only just met and communicated with through Kyle? Yes. Were you in any position to turn down his kindness? No. “I’ll drive ya home…”

- Then the pin dropped, “My house keys are in the car,” A dry laugh came from him- trying to imagine what he looked like under that thing.

- “I can’t leave you on the street…” And that’s what led you straight into the passenger seat. His truck was spotless and surprisingly comfortable, like nobody had ever sat in that spot before you. “You can stay at mine for the night, don’t tell Garrick… he’ll have a field day….”

- “Thanks, but you could just drop me at a bus stop?” Not that you wanted that, not that you wanted anything from the good samaritan at the wheel.

- His head shook, “In this area? No chance, love,” You wondered how long he had travelled to go on this date because he had been driving half an hour before he pulled into a drive. From how he looked around getting out of the car and how high the garden hedge was, you thought it was lucky he hadn’t thrown a bag over your head.

- Not that you’d remember where he had taken you anyway.

- His house was almost barren, not many belongings. “Kitchen is on your left, living room on the right and bathroom is upstairs the first door you see…” He was talking much more than he had in the crowded environment.

- “D’ya have a phone charger? I’ll call Kyle to come get me tomorrow to look at the car…” He just gave you a stare, then you realised. Kyle didn’t live in your area anymore, over a hundred miles away. “Fuck…”

- “I’ll take a look at it in the morning…”

- “You sure? I can pay you fuel money,”

- Long story short, Simon turned down your money. And he kept coming back after he fixed your car, jotting your number down in case it gave you any more trouble.

- He doesn’t take his mask off until you have sex for the first time

- After that he rarely wears it when in private with you

- It’s weird when you have guests over (TF141) and he wears the damned thing

- You make sure you wash the masks every other day and make sure Simon alternates

- Never gets spots from them, either.

- Has tattoos but would never get a matching one with anyone

- He thinks it’s a jinx on any relationship or friendship

- You’re probably his first proper relationship

- Discloses he’s in the SAS when he gets deployed about a year into your relationship

- You never realised how worried sick you’d be until he got through the front door

- Bundles you in his arms, never taking the smell of your hair, perfume and skin for granted again

- Fixes all of your car troubles- he may have gone into mechanics had he had a settled childhood

- Finds it difficult to introduce you to the family, not because of you. Because of the baggage.

- His mother welcomed you but with caution in hand. Until you got talking to her and she just seemed to open up to you.

- She invites you round for dinner every Sunday. It makes Simon smile

- Never worked through his emotional baggage about his dad

- So when the subject of kids is brought up, he shudders

- You don’t press the matter, not with Simon

- He’s stubborn and you seem to be the only one who can change his mind

- Simon doesn’t fall in love easily but when he does, it’s deep and he’s never leaving your side

- Much more of a goofball than other people see- those dad jokes are primed and ready for an occasion

- Not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his…

- He’s more worried about you when he’s away

- It’s like a hole in his heart being away from you and he strives to get out uninjured and alive not to burden you

- Knows that if you can get past his work, you’ll get through anything

NSFW

- Your first time was very spontaneous, two months into you seeing him.

- The back of his car, you couldn’t remember the cause of it but you remember making out in the back of his truck

- Going out into the woodlands to cool off but instead, you were hitched on his hips and fingers dragging across his muscular shoulders.

- Clung to each other while his body rolled into yours, you biting down slightly on his clothes. Instead of purring his into the daylight air.

- It didn’t end there, the back of the truck and back at his.

- Practically never ending until the morning… where you’d lay on his chest. He was stroking through your hair

- Whenever he’s asleep, he recounts those memories and every encounter after that.. just so he can be close to you when away

- Surprisingly gentle- knows he’s a big guy

- Though he’s not without his rugged potential. Prefers not to be too rough

- Has sexual experience but nothing above 5 women and then it wasn’t reoccurring

- Doesn’t have a vice for sex, he loves feeling close to you

- Loves facing you, he loves that intimacy

- He’s quite an intimate guy

- Never wears the mask when you have sex

- If you ask him, he refuses… finds it difficult to open up about work and his experiences

- Closer than anybody else would be able to get, over his dead body

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | ghost m.list

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[okaylikeschaewon]

Exchange Part 1: Behind the Stage

10k words, 10k more in part 2, male reader, smut

“What’s your name?”

“What?!”

“I said, what’s your name?” you shouted, trying your best to be heard over the blaring music.

She looked confused for a second before shrugging her shoulders, smiling, not caring about anything - but why should she? This was supposed to be one of the most prestigious parties of the year, she was young and cute and somehow found her way in, she should enjoy it.

The way she moved her body was impeccable - she must have some sort of formal training because no average girl knows how to move like she did. Her perfect body control, matching the music, oddly impressive attention to the little movements that just made her so much more appealing to you. Top it all off with the fact that it just looked like she was having a good time, this girl knew how to have a presence.

“You’re really good at this!”

She just smiled, you weren’t entirely sure if she heard you - not that it mattered.

“Come!” she shouted, pulling you by your hand towards the middle of the dance floor, finding a little area with some more space.

This girl knew no embarrassment, not that she had any reason to be, she was unbelievably confident in herself. Her hands were all over you, even though you were just an average dancer, she guided you, made you look like an expert while she did almost all of the work.

A few people started to take notice of her, giving a bit more space while cheering her on. She clearly loved it, a smirk plastered across her face as she knew her skimpy little outfit was flashing her body to the whole room. She was thin, small, petite, yet her thighs were full enough to make you lust for her, to want her, unable to take your eyes off her.

Then she turned around, and for the first time you got a view, a beautiful view, as half of her ass was hanging out of the tiny garment that could barely be called a pair of shorts. You were a bit taken aback, but she didn’t allow you to fester in nerves; She grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips before she pressed backwards, grinding her cute little ass on your crotch.

The jeering from the crowd could barely be heard over the music, but it could be heard nonetheless. The more they cheered her on, the harder she went. At this point pretty much every eye in the room was on the two of you, or rather it felt that way, as the girl was grinding her little ass against you.

Fueled by the attention, the girl pressing her ass into your body bent over at her waist and turned back, looking at you over her shoulder. That seductive smirk of hers made you realize her attention was all you cared about, all these other people were just bystanders. This was your little moment.

She winked like a professional, as if such a thing existed, before she began to twerk her ass up and down on you. The makeshift audience erupted in shouts, everyone watching as the cute girl bounced her backside against you. Her ass was so soft, especially for such a skinny girl, and the little side to side move she did further emphasized how this girl was not an amateur.

The song eventually came to an end, leaving you face to face with the cute girl again as the crowd around you began to dissipate. You still had your hands on her hips gently swaying side to side, both of you smiling to the fullest.

“Wanna take a break?” she asked, communication finally possible as the music calmed down.

“I’d love to,” you answered as she began to guide you through the room towards the bar.

“You’re pretty good at dancing!” she complimented, flagging down the bartender.

“Me? Are you kidding, you’re the one who looked like a damn pro out there!”

“I have some practice,” she giggled as the bartender walked up.

“It’s a pleasure to serve you,” he said respectfully. “What can I get for you, and of course it’s on the house.”

“Thanks!” she said cheerily before turning to you. “What do you drink?”

“I’m good with whatever you’re having,” you answered, slightly taken aback at how the bartender greeted her.

“Whisky please! Something nice.”

“You got it, I have the perfect bottle in the back for you,” the bartender replied before quickly scurrying away.

“Huh, didn’t chalk you as a whisky girl,” you said, leaning against the bar. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

“What, do you think I’m cool because I drink whisky?” she chuckled, leaning next to you.

“I’d think you’re cool even if you got us some cosmos.”

She smiled brightly at you, her eyes squinted in the most adorable endearing way.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you asked as the bartender returned with the drinks.

The girl picked up the two glasses and handed you one.

“Lisa.”

—

“Oh my God just look at her, she has the whole room gawking at her.”

“They’d be gawking at you, too,” Jennie replied casually, sipping on her vodka cranberry. “These rich execs are all so horny, you could just stand up there and you’d have like six guys on you.”

“I don’t want six guys, I’ll leave that shit to you,” Rosé scoffed, her attention fixated on a booth across the room. “Just one.”

“No need to be so defensive,” Jennie slurred, clearly tipsy, as she wrapped her arm around the bitter girl. “You should go for it, he has a huge cock.”

“You’ve already been with him?” Rosé spat, glaring at Jennie in disgust.

“Please, I’ve sucked more than half the cocks in this room,” Jennie laughed, leaning back again on the couch while stirring her drink with the little plastic straw. “Let’s not forget how many years it's been.”

“Don’t worry, none of us forgot how quickly you became a slut,” Rosé muttered, her eyes once again locked on the man.

“Oh stop being such a bitch about it,” Jennie rolled her eyes, tossing a keycard on the table in front of Rosé. “Go take him to the suite, you’re just as much of a slut as I am at this point.”

“That would be impossible, no one is as slutty as you,” Rosé fired back.

“Oh really?” Jennie raised her eyebrows. “Oh oppa, thank you so much for the song!” Jennie mocked her voice before pretending to gag on a cock. “Oppa I’ve never sucked a cock this big before.”

“That was one time!” Rosé argued.

“Oh oppa thank you for the ride,” Jennie continued, once again making gagging noises. “Thank you for lunch oppa!”

“How did you know-”

“Oh oppa I ruined my new dress, I need to be spanked.”

Rosé snatched the keycard off the table, glaring at Jennie for a moment before the two of them broke down and started laughing. Rosé leaned over and gave her a quick hug before standing up and grabbing her bag.

“I’m going to have to talk to our staff about kissing and telling,” Rosé whined playfully.

“It’s not their fault, I basically forced them to tell me,” Jennie laughed, leaning back into her seat.

“You sure you don’t need it?” Rosé asked, holding up the card.

“Half the execs here would suck my cock if I had one, I’ll just get another one if I need it,” Jennie replied nonchalantly. “Go have your fun, I wasn’t joking about him having a huge cock.”

“Thanks,” Rosé said excitedly, waving goodbye. “I’ll meet you two in our room later tonight!”

“Yeah, if you ever stop getting dicked by him,” Jennie laughed as Rosé rushed off.

It only took probably three minutes before Rosé had snuck off with the man.

“Why’re you so down?” Jennie asked casually. “We’re just fucking around, coming to one of these doesn’t actually make you a slut.”

Jisoo bit her lip, looking around the room, stirring the little plastic straw of her barely-touched drink.

“Hey, come on, it’s basically just a formality for you to be here,” Jennie continued. “You’re allowed to have some fun.”

“I don’t know if this is for me…” Jisoo mumbled. “I might just head back.”

“I told you, I’ll do that stuff for you, you just have to be in the room,” Jennie tried to reassure her while sending one of the waiters a silent message. “Please, stay.”

“Why are you even doing this for me?” Jisoo asked quietly. “You didn’t do it for the others.”

“Because those two are already huge sluts,” Jennie chuckled briefly before abruptly becoming serious. “I’m kidding!”

“So why, what makes me so special?” Jisoo demanded, putting the glass down, about to spill tears.

“I just… it’s not that big of a deal for me, and I want to help you out,” Jennie answered as the waiter approached the table with four shots of tequila. “Also I know they’ll never give you your solo if you don’t make an appearance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me Jisoo, I do,” Jennie sighed. “Rosie and Lisa were the same, at first they also didn’t believe me, and look how long they waited.”

“You don’t…”

“Jisoo, please, it hurts me knowing you’re the only one left,” Jennie begged, grabbing Jisoo’s hands and staring earnestly into her eyes. “You deserve this, one night and then you’ll get everything you deserve.”

“One night…” Jisoo whispered, a dead look penetrating deep within her pupils.

“It’s really not as bad as it sounds,” Jennie attempted to bargain. “It’s actually a lot of fun, and I’ll be the one actually doing everything. You literally just have to sit there and look pretty, at most you’ll strip down a bit.”

She nodded slowly, finally accepting her fate. Jennie, ecstatic as could be, quickly grabbed two of the shots and held one out to Jisoo. After staring at it, hesitating, she accepted the drink.

“To the final solo!” Jennie cheered, holding the glass up before the two of them downed the drinks simultaneously.

“I still hate tequila,” Jisoo shuddered, slamming the glass down on the table.

“Good thing I got us two each then.”

—

“Holy shit, why is your room so nice,” you marveled at the luxurious suite. “And how many people are staying in here?”

“Four of us,” Lisa mumbled as she made her way over to the minifridge, stumbling slightly. “What do you want… to drink…?”

“Whoa there Lisa,” you quickly ran up behind her, grabbing her by her armpits to hold her up. “I think maybe we slow down on the alcohol, just for a bit.”

The two of you had spent far too long drinking downstairs. You were finding out a lot about her, and the bond the two of you seemed to naturally have felt unreal. Never before has a girl had this type of effect on you, it felt like she might be something special. Despite talking for so long, there was still so much you didn’t know about her.

“Why!” she whined, putting all of her weight on your arms as she craned her neck to look up at you. “I’m not… drunk…”

“Right, not drunk,” you agreed with her as she slowly fell down to the ground, sitting there giggling.

“I’m not drunk!” she giggled while on her knees.

“Yeah, I got that, you’re not drunk.”

“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” she asked, her voice suddenly becoming unexpectedly dispirited.

“No no, really, I believe you,” you lied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to come on the bed for a bit?”

“No,” she replied softly. “Can we hold hands?”

“Uh, yeah of course,” you said, taking her outstretched hand in yours. It was odd, having her sitting on the floor next to the bed, but it was also somewhat wholesome in a way. “So, Lisa, are you a celebrity or something?”

“Do you really not know?” she asked slowly, as if each word required immense mindpower to get out. “I figured everyone knew.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m part of Blackpink!” she said cheerily, letting go of your hand turning to face you, sitting cross-legged. “Have you heard of us?”

“Oh umm, yeah I think I’ve heard of you guys.”

“Liar,” she laughed, leaning back on her hands.

“No really, that name sounds familiar!” you argued, racking your brain trying to remember.

“If you knew, you’d know.”

The name did sound familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was mentioned by your boss, something about tonight?

“Can I suck your cock?”

Your train of thought immediately crashed; Surely you misheard her. There was no way she actually just said what you think she said.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She got up onto her knees and crawled towards you, reaching for your crotch.

“Whoa,” you quickly grabbed her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I want to suck your cock,” she said casually, trying to pull down your pants. “I’m really good at it, I promise.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you hesitated, trying to hold her back.

“Why?” she snapped, suddenly extremely ferocious. “Do you still think I’m drunk?”

“No!” you lied again, trying to make sense of the situation you got yourself into.

“Am I not pretty enough?” she asked, her anger replaced by sorrow.

“No, that’s definitely not the issue.”

“I’m not drunk,” she pouted, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“I’m not saying you’re drunk,” you attempted to cheer her up. “I’m just saying-”

“Let me suck your cock or else I’m going to find another man,” she growled, her eyes full of rage, but then just as quickly as she got angry she flipped the switch again and began smiling at you sweetly. “Please!”

This girl was insane, but she was so unbelievably cute that your tipsy self decided fuck it, might as well go with it. How could you refuse her when she was literally on her knees begging, and you were pretty sure she wasn’t making empty threats when she said she’d just find another cock to suck. Why should someone else get the pleasure anyway?

“Fine, if you really want to,” you sighed, as if you were doing her a favor.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, enthusiastically undoing your belt. “I can see how hard you are, stop playing games.”

“Of course I am, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you replied.

She looked up at you with her hands on your waistband. Her smile was so pure and precious, she was adorable, sitting there on her knees. That soft smile she flashed at you, it almost felt like you were falling for her in this moment - or perhaps you were more inebriated than you realized.

“Can you hold my hair?” she asked, snapping you out of the wholesome thoughts as she yanked down your pants.

“Sure- ahhh,” you cried quietly out as her mouth immediately plunged down your cock.

She wasted no time at all, within just seconds she was bobbing her head down your cock. There was no doubt in your mind that this girl had sucked a few cocks in her days, that much was painfully clear based on how she moved, and her experience just made it that much better for you. You quickly bunched her hair up in your fist, making sure you could clearly see her cute face as she thoroughly coated your shaft with her saliva.

“Holy shit Lisa,” you moaned softly. “You don’t mess around.”

No response, just continuous shoving of your cock down her throat. She started going deeper and deeper, you began to feel your tip poking against the tightness of her throat each time she plunged downwards. She was focused, extremely precise yet still sloppy - perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as you thought.

Most girls started slowly, maybe lick around a bit, a few kisses here and there. Lisa, however, was not like most girls. She was hungry, and apparently only your cock could feed that appetite. There was zero apprehension, she eagerly sucked your cock, her pretty little face completely stuffed, and she liked it.

“Does that feel good?” she asked as her lips flew off your cock, replaced by her hand. She stroked your length, spreading the saliva from her throat along your shaft as she shoved her face against your balls, licking them with all the passion in the world.

“Yeah Lisa, it feels good,” you moaned, closing your eyes. “Really fucking good.”

The touch of her hand disappeared from your shaft, as did her tongue from your balls. Then, suddenly, your cock was engulfed in a warm tightness. Your eyes shot open to see Lisa’s lips pressed against your crotch, your cock all the way down her tight little throat. She held her face there, staring up at you the entire time - apparently this girl didn’t know the meaning of gag reflex.

“Mmmmmphmmmph,” she moaned with her mouth stuffed full of your cock, her lips moving up and down your length slowly. She had absolutely no difficulty throating your whole cock, and she even seemed to enjoy it as she repeatedly brought her lips down all the way.

The back of her throat was opening up comfortably for you, offering very little resistance while it still squeezed your cock. You were throbbing. She was just so beautiful, her cute little face partially shielded by her bangs, that grip you had on her hair that made you feel in control - but let there be no mistake, she was in control.

Lisa had you under her spell, using her mouth to satisfy every need your mind and body could possibly have. She began bobbing up and down quickly, this time bringing one fist to the base of your cock to join her mouth’s movements. Her other hand firmly gripped your balls, but very gently rubbed them around. Her hand was so soft, her slender fingers massaging your cock from every angle.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you moaned softly, bringing your other hand up to her hair as well. With two hands grabbing her head, you could feel yourself nearing climax.

She wouldn’t let up. Knowing that you were about to come didn’t dissuade her at all, she continued to suck your cock with her exuberant passion. Lisa moved both of her hands onto your thighs, sitting up a bit more, and began throating your cock as fast as possible.

Her new leverage offered so much more control as she slammed her lips into your body with power, with burning passion. Each time her mouth bobbed down on your cock, you felt yourself get just a bit closer to the point of no return. She began to thrust her mouth hard, using a lot more power with each one, holding your cock down her throat for a moment each time she went down.

Grunting and moaning, you finally hit the wall. Those couple of seconds where you had hit your climax, right before your cock began unloading, those couple of seconds lasted an eternity. Time might have frozen entirely, not that you would have noticed. The warmth of her mouth around your cock felt divine, unreal, out of this world. Reality smacked you in the face just like that, your release began to fill her mouth.

Shot after shot of your cum flew down her throat, and she didn’t even flinch. You knew that you were filling her mouth just by feeling alone, but confirmation arrived swiftly as the white goo began to spill out of the sides of her lips. She didn’t care one bit as she held her mouth glued to your cock, even as your cum overflowed.

With a mouth full of your cum, she throated your cock a final few times, leaving the white mess all over your shaft, before removing you from her mouth. A hefty glob spilled before she could tilt her head back, mouth wide open to show you the white pool of your seed coating her tongue. She closed her mouth, gulped without any hesitation, and then smiled brightly at you.

“What the fuck Lisa,” you moaned, falling onto your back and staring at the roof. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Told you I was good at it,” she bragged before her tongue returned to your body, licking up any remnants of cum off your cock. “Your cum tastes so good.”

“I think I love you,” you moaned as her tongue poked at your tip, greedily trying to coerce some more out of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“I get that a lot,” she giggled before standing up and laying down on top of you, her face on your chest. “Could a drunk girl really do that?”

“You’re not drunk,” you whispered absentmindedly, still recovering from the blowjob as you squeezed her butt.

“So, how long do you need before you are ready to fuck me?” she asked casually. “It’s only nine, the night is young.”

“It’s nine?” you gasped, quickly returning to your senses.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, her hand rubbing your thigh.

“Lisa, I hate to ruin the mood, but I have to leave,” you informed her remorsefully.

The rubbing ceased abruptly, but she refused to look up at you, letting only one word fill the room; That one word wasn’t one of anger, or frustration, but rather it was filled to the brim with heartbreak.

“Why?”

“They do this thing, a sort of hazing, I don’t really have a choice,” you explained. “It shouldn’t take too long, I can come right back after.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, and you’re leaving?”

“I know and I wish I didn’t have to, but I’d lose my job if I didn’t show up.”

“Am I not worth losing your job?”

“Lisa…”

“Forget it, I know how these things work, it’s not my first time at one of these parties,” she sighed.

“I really want to stay, but I just can’t,” you said with exasperation.

“That’s what they always say,” she said quietly. “I fall for it every time.”

“Fall for what?”

“All you guys are the same, coming here all dressed up pretending you want to get to know me and all that bullshit just to fuck me and leave,” she sniffled, failing to hide her emotions. “This is why I don’t bother getting invested.”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain.

“It’s fine, just go,” she snapped, rolling off and turning away from you. “There are a hundred men just like you downstairs who can fuck me instead.”

“Lisa, I promise I’ll come back,” you argued, reaching for her shoulder.

“What kind of hazing is this anyway?” she snapped again, her whole body jerking away at your touch. “What exactly do you have to do?”

“They didn’t give me details,” you answered carefully. “I promise I’ll come back after, if you let me.”

She turned around to face you again, her eyes welling up; She looked so incredibly vulnerable right now, full of emotion, and you felt terrible knowing you caused this. You never wanted to hurt this girl, she was adorable in the best of ways.

“Don’t make empty promises, you’re the first guy I’ve met at one of these who…” she muttered quietly. “As soon as you’re done, alright?”

“As soon as I’m done,” you repeated.

“I’ll be waiting here,” she continued. “I’m not heading back out there, I’m going to wait here. Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” you whispered before hesitating.

You wanted to kiss her, she looked too cute, yet despite her sucking the life out of your cock just a few moments ago, you were being shy. Why did it take so much courage? You had no idea, but you mustered up that conviction and went for it, hoping for the best.

—

The club was just as rowdy now as it was when you were here with Lisa earlier. If anything, it was even more full of energy now as you went deeper into the night. You maneuvered around the edge of the room, noticing far more audacious activity going on in the booths. Not that it shocked you, these booths were reserved for the more prestigious members of the event.

After walking past a dozen or so blowjobs, some more subtle than others, you noticed the balcony your company reserved was full of people. You had access, and part of you wanted to see what was going on, but instead you focused on getting over with your little adventure - you wanted to return to Lisa as soon as possible.

It was as you continued making your way towards your meeting spot that you noticed what was happening on the balcony. There was a girl, she must have been popular because there was a literal crowd watching as a man picked her up. You only got flashes of what was going on through the mass of bodies, but you filled in the blanks as you saw two guys holding her up between them.

“Crazy shit right?”

You turned to see a man wearing half a mask sitting in a booth, watching you.

“Yeah, she must be someone special,” you replied casually, taking a seat in the booth. There were two other guys also at the booth who nodded at you as you sat, but they were very much preoccupied by two skimpily dressed girls. “Where are the masks?”

“She is, but we get to work with someone just as special,” the masked man said while handing you one of your own - a bunny mask. “Apparently earlier she was also there,” he continued while nodding at the balcony. “Guess one of the execs really wanted her for himself.”

“Yeah I don’t think she’s being very exclusive up there,” you commented as the bodies parted for a brief moment, giving you a view of the girl bent over getting spit roasted. “Kinda looks like it was her idea.”

“You’re probably right,” he laughed. “She’s definitely the biggest slut in the group.”

The group of you sat there for a bit, watching the scenes unfold around you. Random girls kept walking up to your booth, knowing that anyone with a booth would have some relevance. The masked guy you were talking to now also had a girl on his lap and another between his legs. You had been refusing every girl who offered to join you - Lisa was the only girl on your mind right now.

“Alright who’s next,” an extremely burly man asked while walking up to the table. “Looks like you’re new,” he added, looking at you.

“I’d go another round,” one of the other guys in the booth piped up.

“Get yourself another promotion and then you can join them up there,” the bodyguard laughed before turning to you. “Come on, I think you’re the last one.”

You stood up and followed him out of the club and down a hallway. There were a few other masked guys in the hallway which you walked past, knowing that they all had some level of power in their respective companies if they were here.

“She doesn’t look as enthusiastic as some of the others,” the bodyguard commented while walking you towards a door. “Did they explain how it works?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your mind still preoccupied with Lisa.

“It’s just a facial,” he explained. “Touch her as much as she lets you, if you want to fuck her then you have to convince her yourself. Do whatever you want as long as she is fine with it. She is allowed to stop whenever she wants. If she says stop, listen to her.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a camera in there, take a picture of it after you’re done,” he continued, holding the doorknob. “Take as long as you want, go a couple of rounds if she lets you, just make sure you take at least one money shot picture, got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” you answered, Lisa finally slipping from your mind as the bodyguard began to open the door.

Immediately inside there was a little curtain which you walked through, just to be greeted with another one. Behind you, the bodyguard closed the door as you walked through the second curtain into a large, luxurious room. There were bookshelves up to the roof, a large table, a number of big couches, some nice chairs, but the middle of the room was where your attention went.

On a king size bed sat one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen in your life, wearing nothing but a pair of floral purple underwear. She was the type of girl who could have the whole room’s attention by just breathing. It was your job to coat her face in your cum, this would be an absolute dream come true if it weren’t for one little issue - she was crying.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, trying not to startle her.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, quickly turning away from you and furiously wiping her face. “I didn’t know you were ready.”

“Don’t apologize, take a second and then we can talk,” you said while walking over to the table and picking up the camera.

Your jaw dropped as you looked at the picture preview. There were at least nine pictures, unique pictures, of this girl with her face coated. Your heart sank, and you didn’t have it in you to scroll and see how many there were in total.

“Okay, I’m ready,” the girl sniffled, turning back to face you. “I’m really sorry about that, please don’t tell them.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” you tried to calm the frantic girl down. You carefully took a seat on the bed next to her, purposefully not staring at her almost-nude body. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she stammered as she moved closer to you. “Is my hand fine or would you like me to use my mouth?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked nervously, unable to get past the image of what this beautiful girl had been through so far tonight.

“I have to do this!” she replied with a raised voice before immediately apologizing again. “Please, I didn’t mean it.”

“How about we first start with this,” you said while reaching up and grabbing one of the pillows from the top of the bed. You placed it on her lap, returning just a touch of her dignity. “What’s your name?”

She looked at you in pure astonishment, as if you were some kind of alien.

“Jisoo,” she muttered, her eyes still wide open.

“Tell me about yourself, Jisoo.”

“I’m…” she paused, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. “I’m a singer.”

“And how does a singer end up in this kind of… situation?” you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“I… volunteered,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling in your periphery. You turned to look her directly in the eyes, those eyes which were quickly filling with tears when she suddenly started crying again. “It’s the only way,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“Jisoo, I’m not going to force you to do anything,” you said softly while patting her back. “It’s not too late to stop all of this.”

“I’ve come this far,” she muttered, wiping her eyes carefully with her fingers, trying not to further damage her makeup. “I can’t stop now.”

It was difficult for you, but you also knew how these things worked. If you refused to comply, she would most likely get blamed, revoking whatever rewards she was working towards. The rows of facials on the camera flashed before your eyes as you stared at her, you didn’t have it in you to be the reason she failed tonight.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Just the hand is fine.”

Her jaw dropped in shock - you immediately realized you were probably the first person tonight who refused the blowjob. That at least made you feel a little better, making you the best of the worst for this girl. She got over the surprise after a couple of seconds and wrapped her arms around your body, slowly tugging down your pants.

“You’re the first one,” she confirmed as you lifted yourself just enough for her to remove your pants. “Touch me as much as you want, just promise you’ll warn me before…”

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your hands off her.

Tenderly, she wrapped her fingers around your shaft. She moved slowly, painfully slowly at first, getting used to the details of your cock. With how the two of you were seated, you had a perfect view of Jisoo’s little cleavage, with a backdrop of her thighs.

“Do you like it faster or slower?” she whispered, lifting her face towards you while her hand pumped a bit quicker.

“Faster,” you replied, glancing at your cock to see her hand steadily stroking away.

It’s not that she was bad at it, but you could tell something was missing. She was nervous, apprehensive - almost as if she was scared to touch you. Making her comfortable became your goal, the question was just how?

“Stop me whenever,” you whispered softly into her face before placing your hand on her thigh.

Inch by inch, you moved up her leg, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Your gaze was deep, looking directly into the retinas of her gorgeous eyes as they sparkled, still slightly dewy from earlier. Your hand eventually made it right up to her purple panties where you paused.

Jisoo’s hand also briefly stopped pumping, but after a couple of blinks, fluttering of her eyes, she resumed her handjob, slower now. You slid your hand up some more, rubbing just above her nether region. Slowly, giving her every opportunity in the world to stop you, you slipped your fingers into her underwear.

She exhaled sharply out of her nose, her hand involuntarily pumping your cock faster, as your fingers made contact with her pussy. You moved your hand a bit lower until you had three fingers pressed against her clit. Your fingers began rubbing in a circular motion, pushing her to release a moan from time to time.

Her eyebrows began to angle upwards, those beautiful features of her face gently contorting in pleasure as you toyed with her. The faster you rubbed her, the faster her own hand moved, in a way giving you control over everything.

Your fingers began to steadily collect her liquids, lessening the friction of her body as you rubbed her pussy even faster. You could feel her breaths hitting your face now, her pretty winces, eyes shut tight. She was really getting into it.

Then you pressed a little bit lower down her body, two fingers rubbing up and down while your middle finger toyed with the idea of entering her pussy. She gasped, eyes shooting open as your finger teased her hole. Those deep breaths of hers turned into sharp grunts as your fingers touched her without regard.

You ran your middle finger over her entrance again before pulling your hand back up, returning to her clit - you had no intention of inserting. She looked relieved, or perhaps she was just overcome with pleasure, it was hard to tell anymore. One thing that was easy to tell, however, was how much wetter her pussy was now.

She was definitely getting close, and her grip on your cock began to falter. She was still trying her best, but it was clear her own pleasure was taking precedence over yours - which you were completely fine with. You rubbed circles around her clit some more, just like you did when you first started touching her, but this time you were far more aggressive.

Making her cum became your drive as she squirmed, panting and grunting. She was as close as she could physically be to her limit, it would just take a little bit more on your end. With her pussy flowing all over your fingers, you decided to keep your movements steady, not switching anything up anymore.

Her hand was barely holding onto your cock at this point, and stroking was a long forgotten act. You could physically feel her orgasm coming. Suddenly, it shot through her body, the initial waves forcing her into a frenzy of writhing as her thighs clamped down on your arm.

“Ahhhh,” she cried, her eyes wide open but not seeing anything.

She began to moan - loudly - as her body thrashed around on the bed. She came all over your fingers, her purple panties completely soiled. Crying out, her body jerked backwards, and she lay there with her back on the bed, slowly trying to control her breathing. You watched her chest heave up and down until eventually her legs relaxed enough to let you slip your hand out from between them.

“You’re the best,” she moaned, voice breathy, as you lay down on your side next to her. Her eyes were leaking, not from despair like earlier, but from pleasure. She took a couple of minutes to just recover until her breathing finally calmed down. “Now, let’s get back to what you’re here for.”

“If you insist,” you said with a smile as she climbed on top of your body.

“Can I use my mouth?” she asked softly.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, out of all the men I’ve…” she said before pausing, the pain in her face showing for a second before she continued. “You’re the first one who I actually want… the first one who deserves it.”

With both of your hands, you held her face and kissed her passionately. At first she was hesitant - perhaps from the shock of your confidence - however, it wasn’t long before she accepted the kiss. Not only accepted it, but returned it. This level of passion should be impossible from such a short time together, yet for some reason Jisoo felt different. For some reason, you felt like you had known her for years, and kissing her just felt right.

“Forget all those other men,” you whispered into her face, holding your mouth right in front of her. “You did what you had to do, tonight doesn’t define you.”

“Then let me do things I shouldn’t do,” she whispered, running her fingers down your chest while sliding down between your legs.

After contemplating it for a second, you agreed, leaning back on the bed and pushing your crotch forward. She smiled bright, her eyes squinted again, it was extremely cute, but cute wouldn’t be an apt description of what was to follow as she moved her face over your lap. 

Admittedly, she lacked the skill of Lisa, but Jisoo’s touch was so tender that it made up for her lack of experience; You had to ignore the sharp tinge of guilt you felt, thinking about Lisa, reminding yourself this was something you had to do for your career.

Jisoo wasn’t just trying to get you off; She was making love to your cock with her mouth. It wasn’t a lusty blowjob, it felt like she was your partner. Ridiculous, obviously, as you had just met her, yet for some reason she made you comfortable, just like Lisa did.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, reaching your hand onto her shoulder and massaging it gently while you placed a pillow below your head, making it easier to watch her work. “You deserve the best, Jisoo, you are the best.”

Her inner pride must have ignited because her lips began moving just a bit faster, pressing down just a bit harder, and her mouth became just a bit wetter.  She must love the praise, you were probably the first man tonight to actually appreciate her efforts.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you groaned softly. “The prettiest girl in this whole club, maybe in the whole world.”

Perhaps it was part of your imagination, but you could have sworn you saw the corners of her lips curl up in the most subtle smile possible - all that was allowed while you had your shaft in her mouth.

“There’s no face more perfect,” you whispered, pushing the few strands of her hair that fell forward behind her ear again. “The perfect canvas.”

She released your cock with a gasp, breathing heavily, staring seductively up at you.

“Cover my face,” she whispered as she jerked you off, her hand moving twice as fast as before. “Please cum on my face.”

The dichotomy of her pretty face and her filthy words drove you insane. A girl this pretty had no right begging to have her face coated in cum, her face was one for magazines and photoshoots, not one to be used as a target for your orgasm.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned as she once again brought her mouth to your cock. “Just a bit more.”

No rest, no complaints, she put in the effort, and you body appreciated it. Getting sucked off was one thing, getting sucked off by a girl who wanted to was a whole different experience. Jisoo, falling into the latter category, felt phenomenal with her lips hugging your cock warmly.

Watching her orgasm earlier had primed your body, alongside the fact that one of the prettiest girls you have ever seen had your cock in her mouth, and you could feel yourself dangerously close. You had to remind yourself of your goal here as a fleeting thought flashed through your mind: If you finished in her mouth, you’d get another round with her.

Not to Jisoo, though, you simply did not have it in you. She was special, and the way she was sucking your cock made it seem like the feelings were mutual - or you were being delusional because you were about to cum. Either way, you reached down with your hands until she got the hint and grabbed on.

She locked eyes with you, her fingers intertwined with yours, her lips pouted on your cock, and her face bobbing up and down. A few strands of her hair blocked her gorgeous face partially, but she couldn’t look prettier if she tried. Your cock was heating up, about to release into her mouth, when you let go of her hands.

“I’m-” you moaned, luckily that was enough of a heads up for her.

Jisoo gave you a final few hefty pumps, squeezing your cock tightly with her lips, before pulling back. She slid down your body until she fell off the bed and onto her knees. You quickly picked yourself up, standing right in front of her.

Cock in hand, you brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ears, stroking yourself right in front of the unrealistically beautiful girl. She was looking up in anticipation, chin up, eyes ready to shut as soon as the first streak landed.

She did just that. After a violent recoil from the first gush of cum landing on her upper lip, she shut her eyes tight and held her face steady. It didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed it, but she remained fixed in front of your cock, accepting each and every pump of your cum onto her face. She was beautiful before, but having your seed plastered across her nose and lips made her look so much better.

With cum all over her mouth and nose, your final, less forceful, spurts dripped down onto her chin. She moved her face forward slightly, catching it all, not wanting to waste a drop. Once your cock stopped pulsing in your hand, you squeezed from your base, adding the remaining cum to the pool on her mouth.

“Camera,” she mumbled, holding her face up in an attempt to hold all the cum before it spilled.

You quickly rushed over, grabbing the camera and snapping a picture of her. After carefully placing the device aside, you crouched down next to her and put your hand on her back. For a few minutes the two of you simply sat there, taking in the events of what just happened. You met an unrealistically beautiful girl, and now she was sitting next to you with your cum plastered all over her face, dripping down onto her thighs.

“I don’t quite know what to say.”

“If you wanna be like the others, this is when you start begging to have sex with me,” she laughed, the pain in her voice sneaking through again.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through this,” you said, gently rubbing her back. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No,” she answered softly. “Thank you, for being the most tolerable one tonight.”

“Thank you for…” you replied. “Yeah…”

It was a relief that she still had the ability to laugh after the events of the night, especially since her laugh was so endearing. You hoped she would succeed in achieving whatever goal she was pursuing given how diligently she worked tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to deny her now.

“Well, I should probably get going,” you said awkwardly. “There’s actually a girl waiting for me.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No, I met her tonight.”

You received a judgmental glance from Jisoo.

“She’s not that type of girl,” you defended yourself. “I really like her.”

“Then I hope you two have a lovely night,” she said with a chuckle while wiping her face on the bed sheets. “Sorry that you had to do this, maybe don’t tell her about it.”

“You, too,” you replied, leaning in for a hug. “I’m glad we met, even if the circumstances were a bit… weird.”

“Can I ask one thing before you go?”

“Anything.”

“Do you mind taking off the mask?” she said shyly. “I know you’re not supposed to, but-”

“Here,” you silenced her, lifting the half-mask up and smiling. “Now you know I’m a real person.”

“Oh there was no doubt about that,” Jisoo laughed. “Your cum felt very real.”

“I hope we meet again one day, under different circumstances,” you said finally before standing up.

“Me as well.”

After leaving the room, you met the guard from earlier in the hallway as well as two others.

“Just head back to the booth and sit tight while we check on her,” he instructed as two other men walked into the room.

“Sorry, but would it be possible for me to head out?” you asked, once again thinking about Lisa waiting for you.

“Not just yet, might need you for the finale,” he replied. “You definitely don’t want to miss that one, if you get picked you get a hefty reward.”

—

“My God she is such a slut.”

“Come on boys, why is my throat so empty?” Jennie asked the crowd of suited executives around her. “It’s almost like you don’t even want to fuck me.”

A rush of bodies began shuffling around, trying to get closer to her, begging to be picked - begging for a turn with her. Jennie knew there was a never-ending supply of cock for her to take, she just loved seeing how badly they wanted her. It turned her on like nothing else knowing these men would do anything to put their cocks inside her.

“No one? Are we done, then?” she teased as a few of the men stroked themselves in front of her nude body. She leaned back on the beanbag she was seated on, lifting her legs wide for everyone to see. “No one? I kinda want my asshole filled up again, can’t anyone do that for me?”

“Please Miss Jennie!” one of the men shouted, dropping to his knees in front of her with his head down.

Jennie pressed her foot against his forehead, pushing it upwards so that he was looking at her in the eyes.

“Are you going to fuck my little asshole?” she asked while sliding her foot around his mouth.

“Yes, Miss Jennie, if you’ll allow it,” the man begged as the crowd began laughing. Even though they were laughing, most of them were secretly wishing to be in his position right now, jealous that he had the nerve to act.

“But my little asshole is still so full of cum from the last person,” Jennie whined frivolously while turning around onto her hands and knees, looking back at the man over her shoulder while spreading her ass for him. “Can you at least clean it up first?”

The man didn’t hesitate for even a second before shoving his face between Jennie’s cheeks, not caring at all about how filthy the act truly was. The crowd was cheering, a few of the men were moving closer to Jennie in hopes that she would pick a couple more of them. They all knew Jennie was rarely satisfied with just one cock in her - at least that’s what the last hour or so would indicate.

They were right, Jennie beckoned for a few of the men who had their cocks out to move closer. She effortlessly took one in each hand, and a third into her mouth, all while the first man was still eating her ass out. Her face bobbed back and forth aggressively, random drops of cum from earlier falling off various bits of her body.

“Miss Jennie, you’re requested downstairs.”

Jennie released the cock from her mouth and turned to see a trio of bodyguards in front of the crowd.

“What happened?” she asked, still stroking the two cocks in her hands. “What’s so important that you’re ruining my fun?”

“Miss Jisoo is ready for part three, the finale.”

“Part three? I thought she was done already?” Jennie asked with her eyes wide open, her hands releasing the cocks. “What was part two?” she demanded, angrily pushing the man licking her asshole away as she stood up and grabbed her long coat.

“Facial train,” the bodyguard answered, motioning to one of the other guards to collect Jennie’s clothes before following Jennie as she hurried towards Jisoo’s room. 

“She did a facial train?” Jennie gasped, speeding up her pace. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We thought you knew,” the bodyguard said, speeding up as well to keep up.

“No I didn’t fucking know!” Jennie screamed, basically running at this point.

She slammed the door behind her as she pushed past the man guarding the door to enter the room. Jisoo was inside, sharing a bed with a man.

—

“She chose you,” the bodyguard explained as you followed him back to Jisoo’s room. “She didn’t even hesitate, you were the only one she even considered.”

“What do I have to do now?” you asked while following.

“The instructions are written here,” he said while handing you an envelope. “I don’t think she knows yet, so you’ll be the one to tell her.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you said as you approached the door.

“Hey, you’re an insanely lucky man,” the bodyguard said, turning to you. “Ignoring the fact that you’re going to be fast-tracked for a promotion thanks to her picking you, you also get to be with one of the prettiest girls at this entire party. Do you have any idea how long the regulars have been waiting for her to finally come?”

“No, this is actually my first one as well,” you replied.

“First… you seriously are the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole building,” he laughed. “Alright, go treat her well, she obviously took some sort of liking to you.”

Hesitantly, you walked into the room, past the curtains where you found Jisoo sitting on one of the couches wearing a purple bathrobe. In her hand she held a little makeup kit, applying mascara to her bare, just-showered face.

“Hey,” you announced as you approached her.

“Hey,” she replied back, flashing you a very short smile, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know you said you had a girl waiting, but when they asked me… I didn’t know who else…”

“It’s fine,” you quickly said while rushing to her side as soon as you noticed she was about to break down again. “Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you through this, alright?”

She looked up at you and smiled warmly, her eyes leaking down her cheeks. You reached up with your sleeve and wiped her face before holding up the envelope.

“Do you want to read it together?”

“Read it to me,” she said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” you said softly while taking a seat next to her and opening the envelope. “Dear Miss Jisoo, if you’ve made it this far that means you have done an amazing job. You’re almost done now, there’s only one final request if you would be so kind to cooperate. You’ve surely already picked your favorite participant from part two by now, and for part three you and your chosen will…”

“Will what?” Jisoo asked as you paused. “What does it say?”

“You and your chosen will also be recording a…” you hesitated again. “Jisoo, remember you can stop this at any time, you do not have to go through with it.”

“Recording a what?” she demanded despite already knowing the answer, tears forming in her eyes again.

“Furthermore, if your chosen is unable to produce a video up to our standard, we will provide a replacement. You have our sincerest assurance that the video will never leak, it will be exclusively for company use,” you quickly finished the letter, skipping the line.

“They’re all going to watch me get…” Jisoo’s voice faltered.

“We don’t have to do this,” you replied, empathy filling every fiber of your being. “I’ll be here for you, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You’ll also get a huge promotion for doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Forget about what I get, this is about you.”

She looked up at you with a face full of emotion - appreciation, maybe?

“I’ve never…” she whispered, nervousness dripping out of each syllable. “It would be my first time.”

“Jisoo,” you whispered back, taking her hands into yours. “It’s entirely your call, take as much time as you want to think about it.”

“I know we just met,” she said quietly after a moment of contemplation. “But if it had to be with someone…”

She waited, thinking about it some more, and you sat patiently, holding her hands still. They weren’t shaking anymore, she even seemed calm.

“I’ll only do it if you’re one hundred percent sure,” you said firmly. “The only thing that matters is what you want to do.”

Before she could answer, the door shot open and another girl ran through the curtain.

“Jisoo I’m so sorry!” she screamed, running up to the bed and flinging herself into Jisoo’s body. “I had no idea, please please please forgive me.”

Jisoo said nothing, she didn’t even move. No reaction at all to the girl hugging her, not until she let go and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Jisoo please, say something, I’m sorry!” the girl begged to no avail before turning to you with a sour expression. “Who are you? Did you also join in-”

“Do not attack him,” Jisoo scowled, finally speaking up. “He was here for me when you weren’t.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t undo what I went through tonight,” Jisoo replied coldly. “This was your idea, I never wanted to do any of this, yet somehow I’m the one who had guy after guy paint my face with their cum.”

“Jisoo…”

“And what were you doing?” Jisoo screamed. “Queen Jennie was too busy getting fucked by the whole club. The Queen of dick doing what she does best, but she still just couldn’t keep her promise.”

“Please,” Jennie pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of Jisoo. “Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You tell me,” Jisoo hissed. “For the finale I’m going to lose my virginity in front of an audience, and it’s going to be recorded. You tell me how you can fix this.”

“Let me talk to them,” Jennie begged. “I’ll convince them to let me make the video instead.”

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat. “Maybe it’s best if the two of you figure this out without me.”

The two girls turned to you in shock, it was like they completely forgot you were also there.

“You can’t leave,” Jennie said dismissively, barely even shooting you a glance.

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo apologized a bit more empathetically. “If you leave, it looks bad on me.”

“Uh,” you hesitated. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Jennie turned away from Jisoo to face you. She looked you up and down with her arms crossed before sighing heavily and tossing off her long coat, exposing her completely nude body underneath.

“Stop pretending you’d pass on this,” Jennie said with an eyeroll.

It suddenly dawned on you, this was the girl from the balcony earlier. The girl getting gangbanged right in front of everyone.

“Why are you just staring,” Jennie snarled before grabbing your hand and placing it between her legs. “Can you fuck this pussy or not.”

“Jennie stop,” Jisoo shouted, her eyes full of a focused rage. “I like him, don’t treat him like one of your fucktoys.”

Jennie let go of your hand and turned sideways to face Jisoo again. The curves of her body right in front of you as she casually stood there in the nude, facing sideways. You won’t lie, in a purely physical way, she was definitely fuckable.

“Fine, then you talk to your boyfriend,” she complained. “Or better yet, you can just fuck him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jisoo retaliated angrily.

“Then stop acting like he’s interested in more than shoving his cock in you,” Jennie snorted. “I bet he also made you use your mouth, just like all the-” Jennie’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the loud crack of your palm slapping against her bare ass echoed throughout the room.

“What the fuck?” she turned to you again, her jaw dropped in utter shock.

“Yeah I’ll make this video with you,” you said while standing up. “Let’s go talk to them about it.”

After taking a couple of steps towards the door, you stopped and turned around to see Jennie still standing there like a statue, stuck in place.

“Coming little slut?” you asked. “Let’s get this over with so you can go back to taking four cocks at once.”

Jisoo tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle her giggle, earning her a sharp glare from Jennie. When she turned back to you, her eyes were full of fire, she was still unable to believe someone would treat her like this. Odd, considering her actions earlier, you thought as you walked back in front of her.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like this?” she hissed into your face.

“I’ll talk to you however I want,” you replied, not taking your eyes off hers for even a moment as you shoved your hand between her legs. “If you’re going to act like a little slut, I’m going to treat you like a little slut.”

“I’m still…” her voice trailed off as an unsolicited moan escaped her lips in response to your two fingers jamming up her pussy.

“Still a little slut?” you mocked her, forcefully groping her tits with your free hand. “You’ve started leaking, does the little slut like being called a little slut?”

“Fuck you,” she said with a crack in her voice that made her cheeks glow pink. She shoved your hand away and stormed off towards her discarded coat as you released a puff of air from your nose. “Shut the fuck up,” she added while stomping towards the door.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered to Jisoo who was smiling at you, tremendously amused by how you were treating Jennie.

---

Part 2

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XLII. “2am”

read on AO3 🦇

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce struggles to contain himself after your impromptu meeting.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, arguing/belittling

words: 5k

a/n: i love them together so much AHHH even when they’re being them…

You’d found an old deli, Mallozzi’s, on the east side of the Tricorner bridge. The word sever echoed between your eardrums like a march; it was why you hadn’t called Bruce for backup, even though you were headed to Crown Point past sundown. 

Even the taxis were superstitious; Uber and Lyft hadn’t let you hitch a ride here at this hour, and the taxi driver who did made sure to drop you off on the closest main street—a quarter mile walk to your destination. You’d charged your taser this time, and set your phone to send all emergency contacts your precise location with only two clicks. You’d worn all black to try and blend into the shadows, going so far as to don black eyeshadow, lipstick, and a thick beanie beneath a baggy hoodie. A small insignia of GU was embroidered into the breast, the only thing you’d had the money to buy at orientation two years ago. 

The hustle and bustle was overwhelming downtown, but the lack of it here was eerie. Every splash of your foot in a puddle was loud enough to startle. Fall’s chill crept in with every passing day, a reminder that you’d helped get people off these streets. It helped steel your nerves. If they had endured frigid winters and the constant threat of violence, you could handle one meetup. Especially with Batman on speed dial. 

You winced. Severing.

The afternoon floated around your thoughts as you made your way through the damp streets, interpolated with particularly destroyed buildings that made you run away with stories of how heinous the flood had been. Wiped out this entire neighborhood. Some of it looked flattened. You stepped around a massive hole in the concrete; it started in the middle of the street, its arms reaching the sidewalk on either side. Maybe a pipe had burst in the flooding. Had they truly not had the budget to fix this place up? Never before had you seen such blatant classism; one of the poorest neighborhoods blown to shreds, untouched two full years later. People here didn’t give a single shit.

It had been too easy to convince yourself to come here—the situation at Arkham had perked your ears to something awry, and the timing of this was too convenient. You’d tried responding with some questions: what is this concerning, is this to the right person? but it hadn’t gone through. Whoever wanted to meet didn’t want to risk it being traced. Which only made you curious. You also wanted to challenge the idea that this was the most dangerous area of Gotham; you couldn’t trust a damn thing this city said when they made their priorities so transparent.

Taking this anonymous meeting was also a welcome distraction from having to deliberate on Dr. Crane’s orders, which distracted you from wondering what you’d do when you got home, which distracted you from your mom, which distracted you from staring into the abyss of likely having to start your life from scratch in a small town with no friends nearby, only potholed roads and weathered church buildings to talk to. And Walter.

Which distracted you from another glaring situation: whatever the hell had happened in his shower the night before, and the potential depth of that yearning. Your mind lingered there, haunting you. Taunting you. Last night had made everything real. Clicked so much into place. Why you kept coming back, why you felt so frustratingly drawn to him. Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne… 

Right. Severing.

Mallozzi’s looked like it might have been a great shop in its heyday; now, the shingles were half gone, windows busted, every corner encrusted with mold. Mildew and sawdust singed your nostrils as you entered, the glass door barely opening wide enough for you to squeeze through. A quick sweep of the room revealed you were alone. Stepping over broken glass and copious amounts of rat poop, you managed to find a single stool that hadn’t been ripped to shreds and situated there. Your heart hurt looking around, reminding you of how it felt watching mom and pop shops close up in rural Washington. The countertops had what appeared to be hand-sculpted designs on each square, color-coordinated with the faded faux awning above the destroyed registers. 

Two minutes, then five. The more time passed, the greater your inkling that following this had been a mistake. Would it have been so bad to ask Bruce to cover for you? Climb on a roof somewhere and keep lookout, just in case?

A hinge creaked ten past two. A hooded figure had wedged the door wider than you’d managed, and you thumbed your taser in your left hand. They had both hands tucked into their pockets, head down, and it was impossible to tell if they were a danger yet. Impossible to tell if this was even who you were meant to meet with. They’d given no descriptors, no street name. You opened your mouth, but they spoke first. Stating your first and last name like a bored secretary, with the voice of someone in their late twenties, maybe thirties. You nodded, apprehensive. “That’s me.”

They pulled up a stool you’d avoided, too encrusted in dirt that looked very much like poop, but the stranger dusted it off with the back of their hand and sat. Their hood was cinched tight. You could make out tanned skin in the light from the smoggy moon that danced off the puddles, but that was it. 

“You need to leave Gotham.” It wasn’t said like a threat, but it registered like one. You almost heard it in Bruce’s voice, and for a millisecond you considered if he’d set this up. Sent someone to unsettle you, convince you to leave. Maybe he’d figured you’d be more eager to listen to a stranger than the billionaire vigilante who definitely didn’t have ulterior motives for getting you out of his hair. 

“Why?” Wanting them to think you weren’t easily intimidated, you kept measured. Bruce may have been able to x-ray vision through your chest to see your pounding heart, but…

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll get yourself killed.” A shrill noise of air pulling into cold lungs, a small puff of air exploding between you. “Housing people in Point put a target on your back.” Another breath, increasingly shallow. Like being in here was a trigger. 

“Associating with Bruce Wayne was enough to save you for now, but do not count on it. If you can even trust him.”

As great your desire to follow the Bruce of it all, you narrowed your focus. Claiming to foresee your imminent death was quite the opener. “How do you know I’m a target?”

The stranger shuffled in their seat, teeth beginning to chatter. “Everyone who tries to clean up the city is. Especially young women.” 

“W—”

Their voice was firmer, stronger now. “Listen to me. Crawling around Arkham, City Hall, Bruce Wayne, Oz Cobb. You take one wrong step and you’re cooked.” You noted a subtle gleam in their eyes as they lingered on your sweatshirt.

“Why would they care about hurting me?”

“You’re sticking your nose in their shit.” Their voice was caustic now, frustrated that you weren’t rolling over and following orders. “Look what happened to the mayor. The task force she set up discovered the DA was funneling money to Arkham, yet the facilities remained unchanged. Next thing you know.” The stranger took their hands out of their pockets and slapped them against their thighs. “They all end up there.”

“What do you mean ‘they all’?”

“That’s precisely what’ll get you killed. Stop asking questions.”

Your voice rose without conscious awareness. “If something like this is going on in the city,”

“It is, and you aren’t able to stop it.” The stranger stood up to leave, and you mirrored them. 

“I could use my connections at G—”

“You don’t think we’ve tried that?” They whipped their head around so fast they gripped the crumbling countertop for balance. “You see any other young buck journalists out here? You stick your nose in shit, you’re gonna get shit. I left after my apartment got hit. Never looked back.”

“You were a journalist here in Gotham?” No wonder they’re giving me a warning. 

“And now I hide in bushes all day so they don’t remember I’m alive.”

You knew it was pushing it, but adrenaline was coursing through your veins. “Who is ‘they’?”

“Bye.”

“So other journalists have been killed here?”

“I might be the only one who hasn’t.”

Dr. Vry probably wanted to know about something like this; something to help protect the journalism students, maybe some leads into who had gone missing and when. She seemed so desperate for people to join the program, and this could explain the low numbers for the major. Their refrain echoed: ‘you don’t think we’ve tried that?’ “Why hasn’t this been picked up?”

“It’s Gotham. People die here.” They said it like a recycled political headline. “Especially if they’re tuities.” They gestured to your sweatshirt and the taser in your hand, clues you were only here for the scholarship. “Go back to wherever the hell you came from. And hope that’s far enough.”

“This is why you didn’t want me to bring anyone.”

“If you speak of this, I’m fucking dead. We both are, so I guess that’s some good stakes.” The stranger was halfway to the exit, your thoughts swimming.

You grasped for any drop you could squeeze out of them, certain you’d never cross paths again. “Do you know the names of the other journalists?”

“No.”

They couldn’t leave you with nothing. Make vague, disparaging comments about leaving, then drop you into the pit. Your frustration bled out. “Sounds like you do, but you don’t want to tell me.” 

They turned around, slowly this time. “Yeah.” Their chuckle was dry and humorless. “You’re as good as dead.” You swallowed hard, and they heaved a hissing sigh. “I know you think you’re doing good, but you are nothing but a pebble at the bottom of that goddamn river.” 

Your heart sank.

“You want to do something good? Stay alive, and go make the world a better place somewhere else. They’ll knock you out like a straw house.” The stranger turned around, yanked the doorhandle, and slipped into the night.

You didn’t stay long. The wind cut through your hoodie, and it was a brutal endeavor being alone in such an environment after what you’d just heard. Thankfully you’d written the number of the taxi service who’d driven you, but they wouldn’t answer. After enough phone calls, perusing Scypher to see if tragedy had stricken the city, you decided you’d have to walk until an Uber could meet you on a main street. On this side of town that would take a half hour, minimum. 

You slunk through the alleyways with dim lighting, avoiding ones as dark as the pits of hell. Something about them felt familiar; if they’d been part of the group offered housing, why hadn’t they taken it? Were they completely alone, unable to live with someone under a different name? If their life now was relegated to hiding in shrubs, they probably wouldn’t mind hiding in a warm apartment. Funneling money to Arkham? Lashing out at journalists for looking into it? City Hall, Bruce Wayne, Oz Cobb? Who the hell is Oz Cobb?

A noise down the alleyway scared you into turning around. A few streets over you saw a flickering streetlight, and set off toward it. You struggled to keep your thoughts clear, the decision of whether or not to leave Gotham sitting like a rock. Was it futile to chase this? Had they tried talking to Dr. Vry? Now the president of GU, she had more sway. Who else was locked up in Arkham? Bella Reál had been scrambling to get out. No one cared. The abruptness of Dr. Crane’s covering of the window, his thinly-veiled threats. Severing. 

At his next prescription pickup. A week and a half away. Maybe you could poke around for a week, and if you didn’t find anything you would leave. Maybe you’d still leave, and send any tips over to Bruce for Batman to work through. Point him in some direction, a parting gift, a lead he didn’t have to work himself to the bone to find. Something to make his life a little bit easier.

But what if they did kill you? Would they leave you alone after leaving the city, thinking you were no longer a threat? Would that open things up, now farther away from Bruce Wayne’s reach? Was that article the only reason you were alive right now? Would they hit you after the hype died down? Once you began to fret over if they’d tapped your internet service, you reminded yourself you were wandering alone around dark, ghoulish streets in Gotham City. This wasn’t the place to mull anything over. 

Chasing the streetlights left you unsure of where led to a main road. All the brick looked the same, the monotonous crumby concrete under your feet giving no sense of direction. Intermittent shouts and clanging metal frightened you more than it should have. You were weak. Too soft. Used to leaving cars unlocked on the road for a quick trip. Never carrying a bike lock. Finding yourself in a city where any publicly parked car would be smashed by morning. 

Severing. Your thumb hovered over Bruce’s contact, and your stomach somersaulted. Creeping butterflies, heat rising to your cheeks. For a second the air didn’t hurt your lungs and the darkness wasn’t scary. Childlike crush. Somehow bright and innocent despite the tangle of lies it was covered in. 

You put your phone to your ear. You knew better than to keep wandering; at least no one had seen you yet, noticed you as a target. Mar and Rai didn’t have cars; he was your only ticket out.

“Hey. Everything alright?” He didn’t open by saying your name—like he’d come to expect talking to you. Too enamored by the sound of his voice, the words didn’t fall out of you. Only a few hours apart felt too long. How the hell were you going to leave next week?

He said your name now, a worried edge to his voice. “You okay?”

“Are you busy?”

He paused.

What did you mean by that? He leaned back in the seat of the Batmobile, deliberating. The armor of his suit crunched against it, a noise he was so used to it didn’t register. Half past two in the morning. You didn’t sound distressed. Maybe you’d had a nightmare? Calmed yourself down a bit before calling? 

“What do you need?” He bit back a million questions when you asked for a ride out of Crown Point. He’d wanted you to stay on the line, but you assured him of your safety, though he wasn’t at all convinced. His phone pinged with your location share, and he rushed like every word of yours had been spoken in code. 

He found you at the end of a dark alleyway, one that barely fit the Batmobile with enough space to open the passenger door. It crunched open, not used to being utilized, and you thunked into the seat. He scanned you for injury as you buckled in—nothing. Now persuaded of your safety, chills peppered his skin remembering how you’d caressed him the last time you were in here.

The cabin glowed with a pink and purple haze when you entered. Felt his shoulder pads dig in. The restriction of the belt and his taut leather gloves. The sound of the world shutting off around him. Alongside this crush (he withheld a visible cringe), worry bloomed. He drove under a streetlight and noticed black makeup adorning your face. Black hoodie, black pants. You’d wanted to blend in. 

His hands tightened around the wheel, bracing himself for something terrible. Had you been threatened? Coerced into something? Fell into some shady deal? “What are you doing in Point this late?”

He felt your hesitation like a brick of cement. If you hadn’t been up to something, you would’ve shot back with a defense before he’d finished his sentence. Was this related to how you’d acted over lunch? Withdrawn, sullen? 

“Following a lead.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched your lips purse into a thin line. You had more to say. He didn’t like the feeling inching between you, widening the gap. 

If you wanted to tell him what lead, you would have. What was of greater concern was if you were safe. Though he didn’t think you’d be particularly honest. “At two in the morning?” That didn’t come out right. Neither had his tone; it was verging on scolding. He reigned it in when you turned to look out the window. “I need to know if you’re in danger.”

“Need to know.”

His eyes narrowed, your scoff hitting him like a punch. Where was this coming from? “I can help.” His patience was wearing thin as anxiety bit at him. 

“You are. By giving me a ride home.” You turned your head even further away. Your tone was clipped. He slowed to a stop, his intuition screaming at him. At least he hoped it was logic and sense, not some twisting of this newfound infatuation. 

You looked at him like you were ready to jump from the car, angry, when he faced you. Your shoulders slumped when he met your gaze. He wondered if you could sense how nervous he was. How worried he was. How gutting it was to feel like you weren’t being honest with him. 

“If you’re in any sort of danger, I want to know.” He swallowed, and you looked away. Again. Shit, you were, weren’t you? Why else would you be in this part of town right now? He moved closer, as if it would help you hear him. As if the only problem was you couldn’t make out his words. “Please.” 

“Stop.” You squeezed your eyes shut and wrung your hands in your lap. He thought his heart might give out. “It’s nothing.”

Your cuticles were shredded, your skin flushing light with the force of your grip. Did you want to speak, but felt like you couldn’t? “Did they say not to tell anyone?”

Your lashes fluttered. He leaned closer, wishing he could take off the cowl, but he hadn’t spent enough time in Point lately to know if any security cameras still recorded out here. Your face would be shrouded enough from the shadow he kept you in as he drove close to the alley walls. He softened his voice to make up for the harsh lines and bullet marks in his armor. He didn’t want to intimidate right now. “You can tell me anything. No matter what they told you.”

You were continuously looking back with rose colored glasses at the snarky, mean-spirited man he used to be. How roughly he used to handle you, like he didn’t care if you broke into a million pieces. Nice Bruce, kind Bruce, caring Bruce was impossible to dismiss. How little could you give him where he’d be satisfied? What would make the wheels of this car start turning? He looked stressed and frayed. You couldn’t put any more on him. “A journalism thing. One of the people I think we offered housing, just talked about it.” 

As usual, nothing slipped by him, undeterred by your contrived nonchalance. Why did you have to get in cahoots with the single most focused, discerning person in existence? “This was the only time you both had available?”

“They didn’t want to meet during the day.”

“Who were they?”

“They didn’t want to reveal their identity.”

His brow furrowed, voice raising a few decibels. “You didn’t know who they were before coming to Crown Point alone in the middle of the night?”

“This is starting to sound like a lecture.” Your taser fell from your side onto the ground, and he flexed his jaw. You tensed, bracing for an argument. “I came prepared, okay?”

His tone kept restrained. For now. “What if they’d had a gun? What if they’d brought others?”

“They didn’t.”

“What exactly did you talk about?” 

It was hard not to lie again. It was hard not to tell the truth. Hard being in the car with him. “It’s private.” 

“Are you meeting with them again?”

“No.”

“If you do something like this in the future, let me know beforehand.”

Won’t have to worry about that for very long. Little did Bruce know, you’d be out of his hair before the end of the month. Maybe he’d throw a party. Christen the halls of Wayne Tower with the aimless whimsy of the public getting a peek into his world. 

He bristled at your laugh. You weren’t taking this seriously, and it was imperative that you did. Painfully so. “Will you?”

“Please, I want to get home. I’m tired.”

Begrudgingly, with a plan to bring it up later, he released the brake and started downtown. You drove in silence through back alleys and the occasional tunnel until your guilt got too big. Watching his hands tighten and loosen around the wheel, his blinking speed up. He deserved something.

“Do you know anything about someone named Oz Cobb?”

The car slammed to a halt; the seatbelt clicked hard into place, shoving you back into the seat. “Is that who you met with?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Is that who you met with?”

His tone scared you. Jagged and deep, like shards of glass. “Jesus fuck, no!” 

“How do you know him?” His eyes were cast in shadow, his face a blob of black leather. Gone was the tentative, concerned Bruce—maybe you liked when he handled you gently. The rosy glasses were falling off your face. Who the hell was Oz to have him act like this?

“I don’t.”

“Have you ever spoken with him outside of City Hall?”

City Hall? You never spoke to anyone there.

“Have you?”

Interrogative. No longer was this a conversation between allies. The car cramped under the weight of his gravelly tone, his armor coming off far more aggressive. You wouldn’t let him know that. “Just drive.”

“Absolutely not.” He wasn’t leaving until you understood. Your frustration was a small price to pay for making you understand that your life would be at risk, that Oz was dangerous, that keeping things like this from him was a death sentence. 

“So you’re stranding me here?”

He made his voice stronger, feeling it begin to shake. “Don’t ever go near him.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I said don’t ever go near him.” He felt nauseous. And faint. Intrusive images of you lying with a bullet through your skull made his vision go in and out. Made him nervous to look at you, though he still did.

“You don’t control me.”

“Promise me you’ll never go near him.” His pulse raced in his ears.

“I can do whatever the hell I want.” If he didn’t drop it this second… His tone was venomous when he next spoke. 

“He’ll kill you.”

You rolled your eyes wide enough for him to see. Now you could see him, his eyes flashing, then narrowing, his mouth tensing into a snarl. “A lot of things could.”

“Promise me.” 

Sounded like a threat. You looked around, pretending to be bored, your blood boiling over as you began to feel like a hostage.

He was on the brink of a panic attack. “Promise me, goddammit!”

You gasped out your response, shocked his voice had risen to such a yell. “Don’t talk to me like that, what the fuck?”

“You’re telling me to let you hold a loaded gun to your head and pull the trigger.”

“Take me home.”

“Tell me you’re not that stupid.”

“Fuck off.”

A wheeze squeezed from his constricted throat. Yeah, he was about to pass out. “If you don’t want me to track you,”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Are you planning to meet with him?”

You stared at your lap. You. Still. Weren’t. Listening. 

“Answer me.”

Your nose turned up at him. “Your intimidation is less effective when you know it’s just you under that fucking suit.”

“You need to know how serious this is.”

“Take. Me. Home.” The steadiness of your voice was fading as helplessness crept in. You turned to look out the window. 

You started hashing at your cuticles. His voice was softer, though marginally. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“You need to listen, please—”

“TAKE ME HOME.”

Bruce reached out to touch your elbow, but you yanked your arm away so fast your wrist slapped against the glass. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not accepting any apology until I’m back.” 

The silence breathed for a few seconds, interrupted eventually by the clicking of gears. After a few streets you recognized the turns, the knot in your stomach loosening. The whiplash of twenty-four hours ago put a lump in your throat. 

A few minutes later he pulled into the signature alleyway. You hustled to unbuckle, the sound of small clinking rattling your ears. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed he was shivering.

“I’m sorry, everything I say is coming out wrong,” his voice was weak and bruised. 

“You don’t own me.” You unclicked the buckle. 

“I know.” A humorless laugh fell from his lips, and you stiffened. He shook his head like he hadn’t meant for it to occur. “That’s the thing, I know I don’t. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

He took off his cowl, sighing as he held it in his lap. A football field of distance sat between you, and he felt it like a hot branding iron. “I’m sorry for not taking you home when you asked.”

Tears stung your eyes. “Don’t ever act like that again.”

Bruce’s face contorted with pain as he watched you bite your cheek and blink back tears. He nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re not stupid. I was way out of line.”

You resumed fiddling with your hands. A light patter of rain dusted the windshield and echoed off the metal roofing. You didn’t know what to say to him. Each time you thought you were past something, it circled back.

“I won’t track you. I already said I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re fucking mean.” It blurted out of you with a pitiful sob, and you angrily wiped at the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. “I don’t even know who the fuck he is.”

It was agony knowing he’d made you cry. It bled into his inflection, this frail, bleeding desperation. “It won’t happen again. I was, I was scared, his pockets are in the courts, I can’t get him—”

“So you scared me?”

He froze. “I scared you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You wiped your cheeks with your forearm and popped open the door. 

“It matters a lot.”

You didn’t leave, but you didn’t speak. The two and a half block walk was more intimidating than ever, exaggerating the empty staleness of sitting in his car. 

“He’s the one person in this city I can’t save you from.”

“You don’t need to save me.”

You got out, saying a curt goodnight, and walked south down the alley. Hopefully no one would harass you at this hour. Hopefully getting home so late would mean the hot water would be plentiful. Hopefully you had a snack in the freezer you could eat in the shower, while you sat on the floor and deliberated if your life was worth staying, or leaving. 

Crunches of gravel alerted you to Bruce’s presence. Mussed hair and splotchy black eye paint sweat in a fade halfway down his cheeks. He hadn’t put the cowl back on, his identity on full display for anyone with the thought to look behind them on the sidewalk of the main road. It shocked you out of your melancholy. “What are you doing?”

He looked… uncomfortable, but earnest. His jaw twitched on every syllable. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I mean it. I’m really sorry.” His eyes bored into you, then trailed to the small pools in your tear troughs. “I don’t want to make you feel like this.”

You tore your eyes away from his. You might’ve drowned otherwise. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

When you got home you scrubbed your makeup off in the shower, buzzing from the constant state of whiplash Bruce kept you chained to. Reactive, and, belligerent, and, apologetic, and intense. He couldn’t fucking talk to you like that. Like you were a petulant child. He was the petulant one. He was so, fucking… aggravating!

He sat in the car for the next hour, unmoving. Half of him felt silly. Pushing off patrol over an argument. The other half was in excruciating pain. He didn’t give you enough credit for what you had endured, and what you had done. It wasn’t like you ran into Point shouting at the top of your lungs, pointing a spotlight at yourself with your full name and address on display. Wasn’t like you didn’t know Gotham was dangerous. Probably still had remnants of the bruise on your thigh. 

He cut the night short. He couldn’t concentrate with the thought of you miserable in your apartment. His head spun. Maybe he was going soft. Being self-indulgent and unreasonable. Cutting patrol short in a city of millions over one person? This was why he kept at a distance. Public service was supposed to be egalitarian; creating any sort of hierarchy was unacceptable. Yet there you remained, and here he was at Wayne Tower with the moon still high in the sky.

He’d never, ever speak to you that way again. 

[tyorion10]

Weydosa Island

My father once said: "My dear child, you have to accept and be grateful for what life gives us, only then you will find a way to enjoy it." Those words have always been a mantra of reminder in every sorrow that comes my way, but now, when life gives me more than lemons.

How can I enjoy this disaster, father?

Am I ready for what will happen to me next?...

Weydosa Island Is a text-based interactive fantasy fiction, full of action, adventure, drama, and monsters! (with a LITTLE spice of romance).

🌷Synopsis

Weydosa is a cursed place that is most feared by all residents of Alberal, even the bravest people will turn pale when they hear the name of that place, a folk legend that every mother often tells to scare their children into obeying. Many people consider the island to be a manifestation of hell.

Through various testimonies and stories from mouth to mouth, it is said that every unfortunate person who ends up in that place will never be able to escape when the island has gripped the souls they desire, very rarely anyone can escape, although there are, those who managed to escape only will end up losing their sanity, like shells without contents, undead in the daytime.

You are the unfortunate soul who was made a scapegoat for someone's rotten heart and cast into that cursed Lazaretto.

As if isolation alone is not enough, you must also race against time because the evil force has awakened from its slumber. It would be better to address this immediately if you still want to see tomorrow.

Damn may be an understatement to describe your situation, but this is where your adventure begins, a place where death and decay are ingrained, monsters and abominations are in every area of ​​the island, with misery and despair that surrounds this place, can you survive? or give in and let the island devour your sanity?

🌷Features

Play as a chef who is framed and banished to a cursed island

Customize your character including physique, and gender with four different race types: Human, Orc, Half-Elf, and Beastman.

Establish a relationship with one of your party. Or not at all.

Surviving alone is impossible, cause you need friends who can watch your back when you are at your limit if not, you will slowly go insane.

Fight, survive and thrive. Can you get off the island? Or conquer that damn island but at what cost?

🌷The Party:

With danger lurking in every corner of the island, you never know when a monster will ambush you, having a friend is certainly very necessary.

Berengar 🐻

He is massive, and he looks terrifying, with scars spread all over his body. If you need a walking guillotine or wall meat shield, he is your man. Rest assured that your safety will be guaranteed because his battle prowess was simply astonishing. However, His booming voice will make people who are not familiar with become temporarily deaf, his blunt honesty often rubs people the wrong way. But despite his brash exterior, Berengar is a loyal friend who would do anything for those he cares about.

Physical description: Orc, towering muscle bear body, light green skin with scars on back and black scales spread all over half left arm, round face shape with black eyes, slicked back brown hair and full beard, topless wearing only a leather kilt. Height 196 cm (6.4 ft)

Character illustration🖼️:

Nicole 🦎

You met N, greeted each other - chatted - then clicked! like key meeting lock, you became besties, they are cheerful, witty, resourceful, and reliable. If you can help each other, you will undoubtedly become an unstoppable duo. Their infectious laughter and cheerful demeanor stand out, making them a target of both admiration and ridicule. But beneath their sunny exterior lies a vulnerable soul, yearning for genuine connection. As the island's harsh realities begin to wear on them, they question their own resilience. Will you be a home for them amid this madness?

Physical description:

Male: Lizard Beastling, Toned body, olive skin, oval face shape with bright yellow slit eyes, goatee, short black wavy hair and dark blue scales, scar on upper left arm, height 175 cm (5.7 ft).

Female: Lizard Beastling, Toned body, olive skin, hearth face shape with bright yellow eyes, and golden leaf branch earrings, curly neck-length dark blue hair and scales, scar on upper left arm, 165 cm (5.4 ft).

Character illustration🖼️:

♂️Nicole (M)

♀️Nicole (F): [coming soon]

Sister Nurul 🕊️

Sister Nurul the oasis of Weydosa Island, received a call from God, Sister Nurul dared to go to that terrible place, Though often mocked and misunderstood, she remains steadfast in her mission. she soothes the troubled souls of those lost in despair, but sadly, her sincerity and strength are just like a torch in the dark of night. You must help and keep Sister Nurul's sacred fire from going out, or you both will be consumed by darkness and made corrupt.

Physical description: Human, athletic body, beige skin, triangle face shape with cool gray eyes, braided bun light brown hair, wear shield pendant with a white rose symbol made of diamonds in the middle of the shield, height 165 cm (5.4 ft ).

Character illustration🖼️: (coming soon)

Orilen 🐅

Ori is a quiet and observer man, he will only talk if asked to talk, the rest he likes to keep quiet and pay attention, he isn't stoic just shy. If you are a chaotic gremlin, then congrats! he is the real deal for you. he's a good listener and a mother hen. Plus, he's good at cooking so he'll keep you stuffed! (It seems like you've found your new sous chef!). Just remember one thing! He is a bit of a mess when he is in a stressful situation, when he feels threatened and cornered, he will take drastic measures which are in stark contrast to his personality.

Physical description: Half elf, muscular body, cool beige skin, diamond face shape with brown eyes,neck-length dark brown hair, he has two pets; a mountain cur named Sawyer, and a raven named Beefcake. Height 170 cm (5.6 ft)

Character illustration🖼️:

Robin 🐕‍🦺

Raised in a world of black and white, Robbie had always strived to uphold the law. But as the warden of Weydosa Island, they were forced to confront the gray areas of morality. The stark contrast between their idealistic upbringing and the harsh realities of prison life challenged their very core. As they navigated this moral labyrinth, Robbie would have to decide whether to cling to their fading beliefs or embrace a new, will you be a beacon in the night when Robbie is confused and lost?

Physical description:

Male: Half elf, muscular body, fair skin, rectangle shape face with blue eyes, buzz cut dark blond hair, small tattoo of scales on the inside of the left wrist, height 186 cm (6.1 ft).

Female: Half elf, athletic body, fair skin, rectangle shape face with blue eyes, dark blond short bob, elvish circlet with a moonstone in the center small tattoo of scales on the inside of the left wrist, height 180 cm (5.9 ft).

Character illustration🖼️:

♂️Robin (M):

♀️ Robin (F): [coming soon]

Drog'thokin The Greedy Duke/Duchess 🐉

D is a walking natural disaster, whether you want to hate them or love them, you're up against wall, because your souls are connected so you are forced to stick together like glue, D is of course not happy with the situation. You remember the old saying that everyone has goodness in their heart, but well… they are demon, is that still included?.

Physical description:

Male: Demon, athletic body, red skin, oblong face shape with red eyes, crew cut black hair, a pair of onyx horns piercing from the forehead, tribal tattoo above the chest, black loincloth, Height 214 cm (7 ft).

Female: Demoness, athletic body, red skin, oblong face shape with golden eyes, framing shoulder cut black hair, a pair of onyx horns piercing from the forehead, tribal tattoo above the chest, a pair of black bra with a pair of gold horns and panty , Height 214 cm (7 ft).

Character illustration🖼️:

♂️ Drog'thokin (M):

♀️ Drog'thokin (F): [coming soon]

Ellyn 🦊

Ellyn, a vision of ethereal beauty, moves through the world with a haunting grace. Her smile, as sweet as honey, masks a heart that has long since turned to stone. A tragic event from her past has left her emotionally scarred, forever trapped in a state of melancholic detachment. Despite her allure, she remains elusive, a phantom slipping through the fingers of those who dare to reach out. Her beauty is a dangerous gift, a siren's song that promises both ecstasy and despair. for those who love her.

Physical description: Kitsune, curvy body, fair skin, oval face shape with bright blue eyes, shoulder-length straight red hair left loose (human form) – lower back lengths straight red hair (kitsune form), slightly pointed ears in human form, gold bracelets on both hands and feet, height 170 cm (5.6 ft).

Character illustration🖼️: (coming soon)

Nunu 🐺

meet Nunu… the native knight in sour armor. His friends often call him a sour dog, and his parents treat him like a house decoration, sourness and cynicism have covered him like barnacles on the piling dock.Beneath his gruff exterior, however, lies a heart that yearns for warmth and understanding. As he navigates the harsh realities of life, he struggles to let go of the past and embrace the possibility of a brighter future, Can you help this puppy?

Physical description: werewolf, well-padded body, light beige skin, round face shape with yellow eyes and short beard, short tousled wavy dark blond hair, topless with hairy torso and big tiddies, faded blue linen breeches that had been torn at the bottom so they came just above the knees, height: 183 cm (6 ft) human form – 240 cm (7.8 ft) werewolf form.

Character illustration🖼️:

⚠️Warning:

1). This story is intended for Adults

2). Use of words containing swear words, vulgarity, and depictions of violent activities

3). Description of several scenes containing horror and gore

4). Depiction of scenes that may involve sexuality, and various other dark topics.

🌷Demo: [Demo] 34.921 words (without codes)

😶‍🌫️: Hi I'm Ty, a newbie writer, permission to tag @interact-if for promotion. I also want to do “notice me senpai”, because I'm a fan of @kingdoms-and-empires and @theoperativeif.

[joeloverture]

comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can. 

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck. 

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists. 

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs. 

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper. 

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you. 

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire. 

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?” 

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[sserpente]

Happy Ending

Synopsis: Out of all people you could have been assigned to for your lifeguard training, it had to be Billy Hargrove. You hate the guts out of his cocky and flirty demeanour and during your lessons, Billy has no mercy and it shows—muscle cramps torment your entire body after another intense training session, and (un)fortunately, Billy takes notice and offers to give you a massage. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Request from anon. You asked, I delivered! But hear me out… what if he gave RC a seductive massage beforehand? ;-)

Words: 2654 Warnings: pure, shameless, and filthy smut

“Ugh…” You groaned, rolling your shoulders. Your lifeguard training was killing you. You’d be as stiff as a piece of log by the time you’d made it through the final exam. That’s how you’d end up saving drowning folk. They’d just use you like a piece of wood.

But you were determined to push through, if anything to prove a point. Billy Hargrove aka the pain of your existence, was pushing you to your fucking limits. Out of all people you could have been assigned to… well, technically, it had been a fifty-fifty chance. But boy, would you have preferred Heather over him.

Billy was a cliché on two legs. A cocky boy from California with abs, a womanizer, and a classic jock—not to mention he preferred to resolve disputes with his fists. You knew what he stood for and what his intentions were with the women he wooed and you hated yourself for being insanely attracted to him. Nothing good would come out of giving in to his recurring flirting attempts. He knew exactly what he was doing—knew about the effect he had on women and he was bathing in it. His ego was too big for his head, that was for sure; and the fact that during your lifeguard lessons, Billy repeatedly had his hands all over your half-naked body didn’t exactly make things easier for you.

You groaned once more, attempting to stretch a little. You had absolutely no idea how you had survived the past hour.

“You okay?” Billy came walking into the changing rooms, still wearing nothing more than his red swimming trunks. He was chewing on gum, a sly smirk playing on his lips when he noticed your struggles. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah… just tense. Muscles cramps.”

“I wasn’t going too… hard on you, was I?” He asked, playfulness playing in his voice. Damn him.

“No… I’m just not used to excessive workouts every day.” You realised your mistake, or rather, your poor word choice, the moment he started grinning.

“Oh, you’re not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop it already. I hate you, remember?”

“I can help you, you know,” he said, unimpressed by my complaint and clearly still amused.

Raising your eyebrows, you glared him down suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”

Billy nodded. “I know a few… massage techniques.”

Your eyes widened and you took, no, jumped a step back.

“Absolutely not!” Billy’s hands slowly gliding all over your body, kneading away the knots? That… that sounded horrifying, it sounded… really hot. Which was why you could, under no circumstances, agree to it.

“Come on… Are you scared it could be… good?” He leaned in close and you cursed internally. Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m afraid of, for Fuck’s sake.

“No. I just… I don’t need you of all people to massage me, Billy. If I need to release some tension, I’ll go to a professional.” You winced, again slapping yourself mentally for your poor word choice. Billy chuckled.

“Follow me.”

You didn’t know why but you did. Billy led you to the lifeguard office in the back of the building. There wasn’t much in here—just some equipment, first aid kits, a surprisingly neat desk, and a low treatment table for injured pool guests.

“Lie down, stomach down.” He pointed at the treatment table. You hesitated. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. So why the fuck did you move toward it and did as you were told?

“Is it just your shoulders and your back?” Billy went to grab something from the sink area—you could only assume it was some sort of massage oil. You doubted this was part of the equipment here, he must have brought it himself at some point.

“Yeah…” you croaked out.

You tensed, staring at the wall and avoiding his gaze at any cost when Billy slid the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders and then proceeded to pour some massage oil into his hands. He rubbed them together, the soothing sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine, and then… you felt his hands on you.

Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft and yet, they went to town firmly. A moan escaped your lips when he located the knots and began to massage them away.

“Told you I’m good,” he purred. You groaned by way of a response. Because the fucker was right. It felt amazing. He felt amazing. Billy knew exactly what he was doing—you didn’t even protest when, after a while, he pulled your swimsuit down further to reveal the entirety of your back. Up and down his hands went, exploring your bare skin and working away all of the tension his training had caused in the first place.

You could get used to this. You could fall asleep to this. Fall asleep and dream of Billy’s hands further down… no, stop! That’s exactly what he wants to achieve!

You were about to protest and opened your mouth when he travelled south with a start, testing the tense flesh on the back of your thighs. He tsked at you when his thumbs rolled over the knots and tense spots.

“I don’t think you were completely honest with me, doll.”

“I’m fine…”

“Flip over,” he suddenly said.

You ripped your eyes open, only realising now that you had closed them. You were naked from the waist up. If you turned around now, you’d give him a full front-row view of your tits. He wished, huh?

“I’m good, Billy.”

“Flip. Over,” he repeated. His voice was darker now, almost a little intimidating and… taunting in the most delicious and fuck, sexual way.

Grunting, you pulled your swimsuit back up just enough for it to cover your breasts and rolled on your back, meeting his blue eyes and staring daggers at him. He only chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be angry.”

“I’m not pretending. I am angry.” Angry at how good it felt. Angry at how good he made you feel.

Billy smirked and poured some more oil into his palms. Next thing you knew, he was working your thighs so thoroughly that you tensed up in order not to wriggle around.

“Relax, babe…” Ha, easy for him to say. You had no doubt that he was enjoying this, perhaps even more than you were. Especially when his thumbs moved toward dangerous territory. Again and again, he grazed your inner thighs just a little too close to where you kept claiming he didn’t have an effect on you. A circumstance that was getting harder and harder to deny because fuck, you were growing wet. You could already feel the heat pooling between your legs, your breathing quickening.

And before you even knew it, your legs fell open further, inviting him in. It was over there and then. Fuck it. Fuck him, literally. You could only hope he had locked the door behind him. He won. He fucking won.

Your lips parted as Billy’s hands took the invitation. You bucked your hips the moment his thumb brushed directly over your still clothed clit, your nails digging into the treatment table, though this time, he didn’t tell you to relax. Instead, he did it again. And again. And again.

For a brief moment, he paused. And then, when you didn’t protest, he slowly pushed the thin stripe of fabric out of the way to reveal your glistening pussy to his greedy eyes. You were panting at this point, lost in the pleasure he was promising you without even speaking a word.

His fingers were slippery with the massage oil, his left thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped when you felt him push two fingers inside of you. He fucked you languidly, savouring every single second and you bucked your hips and arched your back, meeting his thrusts, silently begging for more.

You almost flinched upon hearing his seductive voice again. “I think that swimsuit needs to go, doll. It’s in the way… and we wouldn’t want to get massage oil all over it, now would we?”

Biting your lower lip, you hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you did not mind him seeing you topless anymore at all. Quite on the contrary—it turned you on even more knowing that you’d be lying before him completely exposed, all his for the taking.

Billy did all the work for you. He removed his fingers from your pussy and chuckled when you whined at the loss. He then hooked his fingers into the hem of your swimsuit, pulling it all the way down—at an antagonisingly slow speed—to your ankles. You kicked them off, unable to hide your trembling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this aroused, except, perhaps, this one time you’d been unable to fall asleep and instead decided to masturbate to the thought of Billy fucking you. Shit, you were a goner. A complete and utter goner.

“Jesus, I knew you’d look even hotter without the swimsuit.”

You moaned in response, still unable to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when his left hand cupped one of your breasts as if they’d been made for him. His other hand returned to your slick cunt. Sweet, wet noises echoed through the otherwise empty room as he fingerfucked you all the while the hand on your breast kept teasing your hardening nipple. By the time he moved on to the other breast, you were breathing heavily, a warm knot tightening in your stomach—fast.

And yet again, you had to admit… Billy knew exactly what he was doing, working you toward what already felt like the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. His voice alone almost tipped you over the edge.

“Do you wanna come, babe?” he rasped.

“Please…” You barely recognised your own voice at this point. Begging Billy Hargrove for an orgasm… you’d most definitely lost your marbles.

But before you could slap yourself for your horny stupidity, you fell. Billy made you see stars, his fingers working your cunt like an instrument and hitting all the right keys. You clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as your toes curled and you came hard.

He made sure help you ride it out before he released you, wet hands gliding all over your bare body. He massaged your breasts for a little while until you came back to your senses, your eyes still closed in pure and utter bliss. You didn’t protest when he tilted your head and stroked your neck.

For just a brief moment, he stopped touching you. Then, you felt something hard pressing against your parted lips. You didn’t care what you were, didn’t care that he was a player and would move on to the next girl after this. You didn’t even care that you were supposed to hate him. You wanted Billy and you wanted him now. His cock in your mouth seemed like a good place to start.

Moaning with relish, you closed your lips around his tip and sucked gently, testing the waters. You’d given a couple of blowjobs before but with him, you felt the odd need to impress with your skills. The results were almost immediate. Billy sucked in air audibly when you took him deeper, tongue darting forward to tease his slit. He pushed forward slightly—surprisingly patient, he let you take him inch by inch at your own pace until you rolled over to taste him properly.

You were done for the very moment you tasted a salty drop of precum on your tongue. Accompanied by another moan, you started bopping your head up and down, your left hand busying itself with his tight balls. You released him with a smacking noise, right hand covering what you could not take, and suckled on his tip like a popsicle before licking over the entire underside of his shaft.

“Fuck…” Billy threw his head back just when you opened your eyes. Pleased with his reaction, you repeated the motion and then took him in your mouth again, faster this time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting forward now and slowly taking control. You let him. You let him fuck your mouth until your gag reflex hit and your eyes were watering and yet, when he pulled out of your mouth, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, you made a disappointed noise.

“Where?” was all he said. You bit your lower lip and nodded toward the desk. He didn’t need to elaborate on his question. You knew exactly what he meant and quite frankly, you were too far gone to back out now.

“Condom?” you breathed out as you slid off the treatment table and approached the desk naked, your limbs still trembling a little from your intense orgasm earlier.

“Yeah…” You figured he went to grab one from his bag stored away in the corner, always prepared for a quick fuck with a girl he’d wrapped around his finger for sport. As much as you attempted to force yourself to, you couldn’t complain about it. Not right now. Not when you were desperate for him to finally fuck you and get that remaining tension—the tension between the two of you—out of the way.

Billy didn’t disappoint. His blue eyes were dark with lust when he returned to you without his trunks and quite an impressive erection still glistening from your saliva under the thin latex of the condom. He flipped you around so your hips hit the edge of the desk and bent you forward, fingertips ghosting over your spine.

You shivered, your lips parting to beg him to put it in already when he knocked all air from your body. Billy sank himself into you with but one eager thrust, a groan escaping his lips in the process. He grabbed your hips tightly, holding you in place for him as he began to fuck you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge back in so forcefully your breathing became uneven.

Your hands reached for the opposite edge of the desk to hold on to something, your legs almost dangling in the air. On your tiptoes, you kept your arse lifted to meet his hungry strokes. Hunting his own pleasure now, you could all but let your eyes roll the back of your head. He was fucking you so good… Billy hit all the right spots inside you and his stamina… fuck, all of the other guys you had been with would have creamed their pants long before you could have brought your lips anywhere near their dick.

It felt good… it felt so good… oh god.

“You gonna come for me again, babe?”

You nodded and hummed in response, too dazed for a coherent answer, feeling yourself tightening around his hard cock right before you exploded a second time. Pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe.

Billy grunted. He fucked you through your climax relentlessly, stilled only moments later when his own release overwhelmed him and he emptied himself into the condom. Shit, for a second you wished you’d have asked him to fuck you raw just so you could feel him coating your walls with his seed. You whined when he withdrew. But there was always a next time. You’d make sure of it.

You were certain now that you didn’t actually hate Billy Hargrove. You had hated how much you had wanted him.

“I think I’ll need a… ‘massage’ after every training session from now on. Your lessons are so exhausting,” you said, panting.

Billy helped you turn around and stand up straight, naked bodies pressed against each other. He grinned, his lips ghosting over yours. “You know what, I think so too, doll.”

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

[sammysficfactory]

Gone and Back Again

Clark Kent x blackcoded!reader

tags: angst, hurt/eventual comfort, fluff

summary: clark chose the world over you, and comes to regret his decision.

wc: 4.7k words

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abandonment

notes: bruce wayne cameo🤭, clark is a coward, reader is a MOTHA..NO DRAMA, yes the baby is named jonathan, feedback is welcome

beta reader comments: damn 6 years a secret?? them glasses work wonders

"Clark is that you? Why are you up?" Clark freezes when he hears your sleepy voice. He pushes what looks like a large bag out of your line of sight.

“Go back to bed sweetheart, I’m just going for a drive. I’ll be back in the morning.” Clark walks through the dark and places a kiss on your forehead and your large belly. You nod sleepily.

“Alright, be safe. I love you.” Is all you say before you find yourself drifting off to sleep again. Clark sighs in relief, he never planned on leaving his wife and coming child, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made.

The next morning, you wake up to a cold and empty half of the bed. It seems that Clark hadn’t come back from his late night drive. You don’t think much of it, writing it off as him losing track of time. But when hours start to go by and Clark hasn't returned, you find yourself getting antsy. You pull out your phone and call your husband.

“Come on, pick up..” You murmur, pacing around your living room floor. Clark doesn’t answer, even when you call a second and third time. This wasn’t like him at all, even when Clark was at work he made sure to pick up if you called a second time. You begin making calls, starting with his job.

"Good morning, Daily Planet. May I ask who's calling?" a woman answers.

“This is Y/N Kent, Clark Kent’s wife. Has Clark come in to work today?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice level. You hear some typing before the woman on the other end answers.

"I've just checked the schedule, and he's not on it...He didn't give any warning either. Did something happen?" You sigh, that was definitely not the answer you were hoping for.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.” You sigh heavily.

“No problem, Mrs. Kent. If anything comes up I’ll call you back.” She replies before hanging up. You make a few more calls, calling some friends to no avail. You pace around the house in a panic, trying to think of places where Clark could possibly be. After a few minutes, you grab your car keys and drive around the city, looking in all of the places you think Clark could possibly be, all to no avail. You sigh, deciding to call your last resort. The only person you know with the resources to find your husband.

"Hello? This is Bruce Wayne..." You sigh in relief when he picks up.

“Bruce, it’s Y/N. Clark is missing.” You cut straight to the point, there was no time for formalities in your mind. You can hear Bruce move around on the phone.

“Are you sure? How do you know?” He asks, not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet, but the panic in your voice was unmistakable.

“Last night he said he was going for a drive and that he’d be back by morning, but he hasn’t shown up. I’ve done everything, I’ve looked everywhere. I even called his job. I don’t know what to do, and I’m starting to panic.” You quickly run through the events, tapping your fingers on your steering wheel as you drive back home.

"It's okay, just calm down. I'll get some people in the area to search for him." He says, trying to ease your worries.

“He said he’d be back by morning. It’s already past noon. What if he’s…” You trail off.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. Let's not jump to conclusions. He'll be alright, trust me. I'm doing everything in my power." Bruce is already setting things in motion, and that much comforts you slightly.

"I'll get in touch with you soon, okay? I gotta go." Bruce hangs up and you walk into your home. You check every corner of the house, every room, closet, and the attic. Nothing. Your phone rings and you pick it up, not caring to check who it is.

“Clark?” You answer nervously.

“Hi, honey.” Your husband’s voice comes through the phone and you sigh in relief. Your worry quickly turns into concern.

“Clark, where the hell are you?! I’ve been worried sick about you!” You exclaim. Clark sighs, his voice tense.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me very closely. Are you in the house?” He asks, his tone tense and urgent. You sense something amiss, so you sit on your couch, listening intently.

“Yeah, I just got back.” You answer, you can feel his distress through the phone.

“I’m gonna tell you something important, you have to listen.” He sounds serious.

“I’m listening, go ahead.” You hear Clark go silent for a few moments, creating a tense and thick silence before speaking up again.

“I’m…Superman.” He confesses. You’re silent with disbelief before you reply.

“Clark, do not lie to me right now. I swear on everything holy if you’re lying to me-” You warn before your husband cuts you off.

“Y/N, I'm not lying! I always wanted to tell you, but I was scared..." Clark was telling the truth, and he can't deny the hurt he was about to cause you.

“I…Clark. This is a lot.” You sigh.

"Look, I know this is too much, I'm sorry, I wish I told you earlier. I just... couldn't say it. How do you expect someone to say -‘hey, I'm Superman’ to someone they love." Clark remarks.

“Clark, we’ve been together for six years, and we’ve been married for three of them. You’re telling me that you couldn’t have told me before?” You feel yourself growing angry and frustrated.

"I never wanted to keep secrets from you, I just didn’t know how to tell you." All Clark feels is guilt and shame.

"I love you, Y/N..."

“Clark, just come home.” Your voice wavers, for the first time the entire day you can feel yourself about to cry.

"I want to, more than anything..." Clark's heart hurts when he hears how distraught you are.

"It's not that simple, Y/N. If I come back, I'm putting you in danger..." He tries to sound reasonable, but he can feel his own resolve weakening.

“Clark, honey, please. I can’t do this on my own. We’re about to have a baby! You can’t just leave.” You plead over the phone. Clark's eyes start to well up as he hears you beg him to return. He hates hurting you.

"I have to keep you and the baby safe." He'd do anything to be with you... and yet, his fears still dominate him.

“We can still be together, we can still be a family.” You try to appeal to him through your tears.

"You don't understand." Clark can't control it as the hurt and guilt comes out as anger.

"I can't be with you or the baby. The world needs Superman. It's my responsibility." He immediately regrets his tone as soon as he finishes his sentence.

“Clark…” Is all you can manage to say, hurt and shocked by his tone. Clark takes a deep breath.

"Y/N, let me explain. I love you. I don't just love you, I’m in love with you. It's taken me a long time to know who I am... but this I know. I know I love you, Y/N. But the world needs me." The honesty in his voice catches you off guard.

"I was afraid of what you would think. I was afraid of hurting you by telling you. But, I had to tell you the truth. I couldn’t keep lying to you." His voice is as pained as his expression that you don’t see.

“How am I gonna take care of the baby when it grows up? What if it has powers like you do? Clark, I can’t do this on my own.” You sob.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. But the truth is I can't be with you. You and the baby deserve better than me. This is the kind of choice that comes with having the powers I do." The shame he feels is overwhelming. Clark can't believe what he says. He never meant for this to happen, but here he is, tearing his own home apart...all for the greater good.

"It's not your fault. I swear. You're amazing. I just... I can't do this." He hangs up the phone and you sob. The “greater good” had just ripped the love of your life out of your hands, and the crushing weight of having to give birth and raise a baby alone felt almost too much to bear. Your vision blurred by tears, you call Bruce to give him the news.

“Did something happen?” Bruce asks, but when he hears your soft cries he knows the news he’s about to receive isn’t good.

“You can call off the search, he told me everything. He told me that he’s Superman, and that he’s not coming back.” You feel yourself unravel the longer you have to speak. Bruce sighs.

“So he told you.” Is all he says in response.

“You knew?” You ask, feeling angry. Bruce takes a breath as he figures out how to explain his knowledge.

“I did know. I’m Batman, so we work together often.” He confesses, guilt and sympathy translating through his tone. You’re silent save for the occasional sniffle or hitch of your breath.

"Are you going to be okay?" There's a pause, no response from you.

"Y/N?" he calls for you.

“I don’t know. I’m eight months pregnant with a baby that might get superpowers when it gets older, and the only person who can help them won’t be there.” You exhale shakily, feeling absolutely helpless at the moment.

“Y/N…” Is all he says.

“I don’t know if I can do this…” You reveal weakly.

"Y/N, you're strong and you can do this. I know you can." Bruce tries to stay positive, but his encouragement is unconvincing. He can't help but worry for you and your baby.

"Can you... just tell me you'll be okay?" Bruce asks you, wanting you to hear yourself say it. You stay silent, not really believing him but decide to oblige him anyway.

“I’ll…be okay.” You say, your confidence wavering at best. You can hear his small smile over the phone.

“That’s right, you’ll be perfectly okay." Bruce's tone is filled with confidence once again, even if his heart is worried for you. He knows it's not going to be easy, but he knows that you’re stronger than your doubts are trying to convince you are.

"If you need anything, call me. Okay? I'll do whatever I can to help. You're not alone in this." Bruce reminds you, but it goes in one ear and out of the other. You can’t help but feel completely and utterly alone.

“Thank you, Bruce. Thank you for being a good friend.” You sniffle, giving him a satisfying enough answer.

“Always.” Bruce replies before hanging up, leaving you alone in your home.

After Clark left, you decided to focus all of your energy on giving birth and working to raise your son. The years have passed and your son has grown.

You shop around with your five year old Jonathan, your hand in his small one. His face looks just like Clark, with jet black hair and large, kind eyes. Jonathan is bouncing with energy, he seems as excited as a five year old can get.

“Jonathan, you can’t bounce around too much in the store. You might knock something over and hurt yourself.” You warn your son lightly, but your tone is firm.

"Sorry, mommy." Jonathan says with an apologetic shrug. As you walk through the aisle, your eyes settle on a familiar tall figure. You hope Clark doesn't see you, but it appears he already has. Clark stops at the shelf next to the two of you. He notices you and Jonathan, and he can feel the tension.

"Hello, Y/N." Clark's quiet and polite greeting punches you straight in the gut. The realization of his presence happens all too quickly.

He's right in front of you.

And it's surreal.

Clark looks just as handsome as you remember him, his eyes still full of kindness and joy. Your heart races as you look away, and you aren’t sure if it’s out of anger or love.

“Clark.” You greet him curtly, bitterness rearing its ugly head and making itself known. Clark's eyes search yours, looking for even a sliver of love.

"Y/N, I missed you..." He's holding back. It's a struggle.

"I know it's been a long time, and I've hurt you... But I need you." He starts.

"I want to try again. I want to be with you, I want to be with my family. I made a mistake, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you." He looks at you, his eyes full of regret. You look away from Clark, diverting your attention to your son.

“Jonathan, go choose a cereal. Mommy will be watching from right here.” You suggest to your son. Jonathan nods and runs a little further down the aisle and you turn back to Clark.

“It’s been five years, Clark. I gave birth in that delivery room alone when you were supposed to be there. You missed every milestone, and left me alone to take care of our child.” You say calmly, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voce.

"You're right. But I just wanted to protect you, I wanted to keep you and Jonathan safe. I was scared that if I was here with the two of you, it would’ve put you in danger. If something would’ve happened to you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself." Clark looks at you. He can't bear to see you like this, to see your broken heart on display, showing him just how much pain he had caused.

"I made a mistake, I know... but I love you. I want to make this right. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I didn’t regret leaving you and our son behind. You and Jonathan, you're the people I want to wake up beside. Please, just let me make this right." He pleads.

“You don’t think I was scared? You don’t think that every night that I was pregnant with your baby, I was scared? When you left, I had no one to rely on except for myself. I was supposed to bring that little boy into this world with you by my side, but you abandoned us.” You clench your jaw, doing your best to stay quiet and not make a scene.

“You chose the world over your wife, and you chose the world over your son, I’m not giving you the chance to do it again.” You poke his chest angrily, and you can see Clark’s heart break right in front of you. It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would, even after all that time you still hated seeing him hurt. Clark watches you in your quiet fury, his eyes searching yours.

"Y/N. I messed up... I know." His eyes are wide, his voice is desperate.

"I'm terrified I'll lose you again. I'm terrified this is my last chance. That I won't get another." His heart is tearing in two, he wants his family back.

"Y/N, please... for Jonathan." Clark is trying to be strong, to be better... and it's breaking him to see you so upset.

“You lost me when you left, Clark. But your son deserves to have a father, so I’ll allow you that. Come over Saturday afternoon so I can properly introduce you to him. I still live in our house, so you know where to find me.” You brush past Clark, wiping a tear away when you walk to Jonathan.

It's a small step, but Clark knows that everything has to start somewhere. He watches you walk away with his son, and he knows that he can't lose you again. He needs to prove himself and make it right.

Time passes, and Saturday arrives. He can't stop himself, he knocks on the door. There's a tension and Clark's heart is racing. He wants everything back... to be with the woman he loves and the child that needs him.

A few moments later, you answer the door.

“Hey.” You greet him.

"Hi." he replies awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck.

"May I come in?" You nod.

“Yeah, come in. I’ll grab Jonathan from upstairs.” You usher him inside before calling Jonathan from the bottom of the stairs. Jonathan all but runs down the steps. When he sees Clark, Jonathan hides behind your legs as you introduce them to each other.

“Jonathan, this is your dad.” You say, trying to coax your son from behind you. Clark waves at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“Can you say hi to your dad, Jonathan?” You ask, squatting down to Jonathan’s height, trying to reassure him that everything was okay.

"Hi..." Jonathan's voice is shaking, he's frightened by the strange man. He slowly moves out from behind your legs and stands in front of you. You keep your hand on his shoulder to remind him that you’re right behind him, and that he doesn’t have to worry.

“He looks just like you, Jonathan. You two have the same hair, same smile, same eyes.” You continue to try and help Jonathan warm up to Clark. Your son steps out a little more and looks up at Clark, shuffling his feet out of nervousness. He sees the similarities between him and his father and decides to take a step closer.

“Do you want to give your dad a hug?” You ask Jonathan, noticing how Clark desperately wants to hold him. Clark has never seen Jonathan until that day in the grocery store, and wants to immediately start making up for lost time.

"Umm..." Jonathan looks between his mother and his father and hesitates. It's all new and scary to him, and understandably so. He walks towards Clark and puts his arms out. It's the first hug of many to come for Clark and Jonathan. Clark's heart nearly explodes from affection, he has been waiting for this forever. He holds onto Jonathan tight, not wanting to ever let go.

You smile at the image before you, but can’t help the pang of sadness that hits you when you think about the day he left. Jonathan and Clark look happy, hugging each other tightly.

"Jonathan..." Clark holds him tight, and vows to himself that he'll never miss another day, another moment of his son's life.

"Y/N, I love you. I'm so sorry for leaving you. I love you." He says to you, still holding onto his son tight. You struggle to find what you want to say, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish.

"Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N." Clark says quietly. He's still holding onto Jonathan tight, but he doesn't want you to be upset with him. He feels his heart breaking, as you seem unable to speak. He knows he hurt you. He's so desperate to make it right.

“We need to talk in private then.” You reply, not wanting Jonathan to hear you say anything bad about Clark. You send Jonathan upstairs to his room.

"Okay, Y/N." Clark's anxiety is building, he knows you still have a lot of anger toward him. He knows he deserves that. However, he wants to fix all the problems the two of you have. He loves you, and he wants you back.

"Talk to me." He says gently. You sigh, sitting in a nearby chair, gesturing for Clark to do the same.

“I don’t have a problem with you spending time with Jonathan, but I’m not sure if I can get into a relationship with you again.” You admit.

"Y/N, I made a huge mistake. But I swear to you that I won't ever leave again." Clark's voice is desperate and longing, he wants just one more chance. He wants to be the best he can, by being a father and now a husband.

"Jonathan needs us, he needs his mom and his dad." Clark's voice has a pleading in it, all he wants is for his family to be together.

"Y/N, let's give it a chance. Just one chance." He implores.

“How do I know that, Clark? How do I know that when shit gets tough, you won’t just up and leave? I went through that, and I don’t want Jonathan to go through it too.” You ask. Clark winces, he knows that your fears are valid, but he can’t help but get hurt by your tone.

"You can't know, I guess." He's being honest with you.

"But I want to prove to you... to Jonathan... that I’ve changed." Clark's eyes still have that same desperate pleading in them.

"Please Y/N, you don't understand how much I regret what I did." He holds onto your eyes, willing you to believe him.

"And I will never leave Jonathan... I promise. Never again." You shake your head.

“Clark, you don’t understand. When you left, I was so alone. I was so scared. I had to give birth alone. When the doctors and nurses asked where you were, I couldn’t give them an answer. When Jonathan started school last year, he started seeing other kids with their dads. Do you know what he asked me? He asked me where his dad was, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” You tell him everything you had been feeling up to this point, the weight of it being lifted from you as you speak. Clark can feel his heart breaking as you tell him about your struggles. He didn't realize how the decision he made affected you and your son.

"Y/N, honey, I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you... for Jonathan. Please, give me... give us a chance." His voice is genuine, filled with regret and pain.

“It took you five years, Clark. I wanna give us another try, but how do I know you won’t leave?” Your eyes well up with tears as you speak, your once firm voice beginning to waver.

"You can't know... You can't know if I'll ever leave again. But what I can promise you is that I won't give up. I won't give up on you, and I won't give up on Jonathan." Clark holds onto your hands, his voice filled with love and compassion.

"Please Y/N, just... just give us another chance." He wants you back, he needs you back. He can't cope without you.

“If I do this…you have to promise me that you won’t run. That you won’t run away when stuff gets stressful.” You sniffle.

"I give you my word, Y/N." Clark's voice is filled with sincerity and determination.

"I'll never run away, not again. The one time that I did it... I destroyed everything. I won't ever do it again." He looks at you longingly, he knows that he needs you. He needs your love, your warmth, your affection. He can't live without you.

"Please, Y/N. Please give us another chance. I'll do anything.” You stay silent for some time, trying to figure out how you feel.

“Okay.” You nod hesitantly. Clark immediately wraps his arms around you in a gentle hug, he's been yearning for this moment for years. He holds you tight, unwilling to let go.

"Y/N, I love you so much. I love you. I love you." A tear rolls down his face as he holds onto you, the pain and fear, the regret and hurt, it all subsides in an instant.

"I love you." He repeats. He'll never run again. He holds onto you, his hand rubbing your back.

"I can't believe I put us in this position, Y/N. I was stupid. But I won't let it happen again. We have to be there for each other, Y/N. We have to communicate. We have to trust each other to share our fears." He smiles, you’re finally back in his life.

"I'm going to spend every day making it up to both of you." He promises you.

“Let’s start slow. I don’t want to change Jonathan’s life anymore than I already have with you meeting him.” You suggest. Clark nods in agreement.

"Of course, Jonathan is still so little, and this is a big change. Slow and steady, that's how I'll repair everything." He kisses the top of your head.

"Jonathan deserves to have a mother and a father. Let's work together to give him the best life possible." He's happy because you’re back in his life. The pain, the tears, the sleepless nights, they're all over. It's time for a new start, he can't imagine himself being with anyone else but you.

"I don't want to push too hard... and I want to earn your trust back. It's all about you and Jonathan, all of... this." He points to you, then to himself, then to Jonathan's room.

"Jonathan is going to be so happy when he sees all of us together. He needs a family Y/N... and I’m ready to give that to him." Clark pulls back from the hug, looking you in the eyes as he makes this promise. You place your hands on his broad chest, looking up at him and allowing yourself to relish in the familiar and comfortable hold of Clark.

“Can I…kiss you, Y/N?” Clark asks, this is all still fresh and he doesn’t want to move too fast, but he can’t help the urge to press his lips to yours.

“Yeah, you can.” You nod, feeling Clark lift your chin gently and bring your lips to his. The kiss doesn’t feel like fireworks or explosions like you’d expect it to. It feels more like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a fire, like sleeping after days of insomnia, or finding water after walking through a desert for an excruciating amount of time. You don’t understand why, until you realize it. When you kiss Clark, you’re finally giving yourself the love you had been deprived of for so long. The two of you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Thank you. For all of this.” Clark smiles breathlessly at you. You nod.

“Don’t make me regret this, Clark.” You warn, holding his face in your hands.

It’s been about a year since your reconnection and ultimately rekindled romance with Clark, and he hasn’t let you down. He’s done everything he can to prove just how willing he is to stay with you and Jonathan. He’s been by your side as much as he can, occasionally stepping away for his heroic duties, but making sure not to miss any milestones.

“Daddy, mommy, look at me!” Jonathan does a flip on his trampoline as you and Clark watch him from your back porch. You and your not-really-but-still-legal husband smile in amusement.

“Be careful, buddy. Don’t hurt yourself, your mother already told you to be careful.” Clark warns, and Jonathan nods. You look at Clark impressed.

“Okay, Mr. I-mean-business. You need to do that more often.” You chuckle as Clark rolls his eyes playfully, pressing a quick kiss to your lips with a smile.

“Whatever. I reprimand Jonathan when I feel he needs it.” He tries to justify himself, but you give him a knowing look.

“Clark, please. Jonathan has you wrapped around his finger.” You snort, and he looks away sheepishly. Clark spoils your son, especially recently after Jonathan’s powers began to show up. Clark has been helping Jonathan control his newfound powers, especially his enhanced strength. Just a few days ago, Clark had to talk Jonathan down from pulling the kitchen door off the hinges after you told him he couldn’t eat ice cream for dinner.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately, honey?” You ask Clark. He shakes his head, looking at you.

“What?” You take his hand in yours.

“I guess you did choose us in the end, just not in the way we would’ve wanted. You chose to save the world, and technically Jonathan and I are part of that world.” You answer, rubbing his knuckles as you’re deep in thought.

“You’re right. But I like this choice best, don’t you agree?” Clark tilts his head slightly. You nod.

“Yeah, this is definitely the better option.”