#it's specific to me too like she's nice to the other coworkers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

barnacles34 · 2 months ago

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Momentous Entropy (Yujin x Male Reader)

Yujin x Male Reader

Warning: Smut, 7k+ words

The door accelerated open, showing a peek of a small dorm. Yujin’s head popped out from the door’s side, her face entirely shaped by a beautiful smile— eyes morphed into two crescent moons facing downwards.

Despite her giggling shyness, she stopped hiding behind the door. She welcomed me in, still with a brilliant smile, “Welcome Professor Eunwoo! Welcome to my dorm.”

“I know it’s small compared to your penthouse or whatever you were talking about with your coworkers, but it’s great for deep, focused work.” She snuck in the stalker-level information in between two welcoming remarks.

“Thanks for welcoming me here.. Wait.. What?” I only caught the intrusion mid-sentence.

She knew I heard her—word for word. It was mutualistic to not ruin the moment with heedless questions in the specifics, we’d forgotten whatever we talked about a moment ago; rather, focusing on each other's faces.

Of course, I would never let her know. It’s an apprenticeship after all, I’d be brought down with all the academic reputation I have if I even considered anything remotely intimate.

As I entered her dorm, I noticed something unusual. She wore a formal skirt with a white shirt and even her hair seemed to have been carefully molded for a grueling amount of time. Why did she dress up so vibrantly even though all she wore outside were casual clothes? Of course, I would never look her up and down, that would be a grave mistake, my peripheral vision was enough, my imagination did the rest.

I looked away immediately when my imagination went onto a wholly inappropriate tangent, instead I appreciated the clean place, clean of a single speck, the wallpaper matted with a freshness that couldn’t be faked with a single day of cleaning; the nice smell loomed over the place, something flowery, something inherently feminine, I was beginning to feel out of place.

There’s something poetic about a beautiful person being a beautiful human being as well, though I used two synonyms to describe something inherently different, I’m sure you get what I’m saying. She was good-looking, diligent, smart, clean, the list goes on and on. Sometimes attractive people have some of the most vapid, vanitous, vain lives; sometimes, it’s refreshing to see someone just so contrary to that common belief.

I was walking slowly while she went to her room to set up, I paced my steps to not seem awkward by standing too still or pacing around her entire dorm.

She came out of the door, her eyes were not morphed by a smile, rather two large pupils akin to a labrador stared straight at me.

Some people’s stares immediately make you uncomfortable, angry even, their voided personality that can only be filled with continued staring. Yujin was rather supplemented by the stare, her intense rich inner-life always apparent, her natural charisma exuding throughout.

The thought was broken when Yujin said, “Mr. Eunwoo, before we get started, I know you forget some of the essential parts of life, like breakfast.” She swiftly went to the countertop, opening some cupboard and pulling out an already-prepared breakfast.

“Why do you have a full meal in the cupboard?” I was completely stumped, there is never anything consistent with Yujin.

“I don’t know, just in case, you know, if you tried to stop me from serving you breakfast.”

“Why do you want to serve me breakfast in the first place? This is inappropriate. Wholly.”

“Please!~ Just try it!” Her eyes glistened, displaying how determined she was to get me to taste it.”

I obliged her for once. The breakfast was great, it was just too foreign, everything was opposite of what I’ve lived on; familiarity lied in the dusty libraries, the cramped, yet cozy study rooms, the decrepit dorms. Yet, I’ve gotten too successful, my quality as an academic has deteriorated too quickly, the distracting throes of fame, money, power however unattractive were always pushed onto me by those I used to hold close. I’ve resented success for however long I’ve held it, never has it ever contributed to my learning.

Yet, could this be an aspect of success? An attractive young lady, serving breakfast, serving a jet black coffee with enough caffeine to sedate rather than stimulate. Hold on, how does she-

“How do you know my coffee preference?” I asked, again, alarmed.

“That’s–um, I don’t know, based on my deduction, you know, like your disheveled appearance, I just assumed you lived off of caffeine.” A smile formed again, this time, a smile of victory over me, a rare enough event for a celebration.

“You’d be right.” Slightly, I scoffed at her remark, gladly sipping the bitter coffee.

Just like that, she already made me feel welcome, warmed up to the most foreign of places.

How could she do that? Is it on purpose? I can’t just ignore the influence she has over me, even if she is a student and I, a professor. I’ve always fought, fought and fought for everything, everything; the simplest of things failed at least a dozen times. Do you understand the disparity of it all? From failing at least a hundred times to now, an empathetic kindness, a warm smile greeting me regularly. I’m aware the description is akin to describing a drug, an addiction, I’m completely aware of it, and I’m desperate. Desperate for this continued exchange, and that’s why I willingly, so perpendicularly of my nature, succumb.

When I snap back to reality, the calm environment filled my sensory world. The white walls are furnished with small plants attached to the wall. I looked back at the kitchen, to check if Yujin was still there—she had planted her elbows on the countertop that I was sitting at, on the other side, her chin held up by her two fists, her cheeks were slightly squished and she was staring directly into my eyes.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“Nothing. You were so focused on that wall, I just thought it’d be interesting to stare at you.” That’s right, she’s also adept at mocking.

“Alright. Alright you brat, let’s get on with it. Where did we leave off last time?”

“Something about an assessment for me to continue being your apprentice.”

“Right. Right, I remember.”

“You don’t even carry around notes? For your ‘apprentice’?”

“Don’t need to”

“Ok, well, follow me, you’re gonna have to sit cross-legged on the floor.”

“Fine by me, lead the way.”

“Tired or sitting on gold-plated chairs, Mr. Eunwoooo?” Though her teasing was getting a little obnoxious, maybe the first-time visit to her dorm has her more anxious.

I scoffed at the reply, and followed to sit next to her on the coffee table, with enough distance as to make our apprenticeship obvious.

As do all our sessions, it starts cold, detached, at least compared to the end. Near the end, it becomes a warm haze, a studious discourse turns into something enjoyable, something that genuinely complements your life beneficially.

That’s also a reason why I continue to speak to Yujin. These unforeseen, unconsidered degrees of freedom had gone out of control, and inevitably, the attachment I had to being an academic was on its last string, its last stitch.

Only a fixation, a continued mutualistic companionship with Yujin has seemed to crutch my skill. And, I’m willing to go against all my morals to continue it.

It can be easily inferred that I’d let Yujin pass with flying colors to be my apprentice. Hiding it, though, is an entirely different story that I’d have to consider deeply through the assessment.

Of course, there’s always an optimism to expect in the radius of Yujin, the soft carpet, the flimsy coffee table.

Despite this, the assessment was rough, she was missing questions on purpose, and I couldn’t call her out for it because I was purposely trying to modify it in a way that she was always somewhat correct; in academia, this was enough, more than enough, even ground-breaking. But, this wasn’t even close to enough for Yujin, she was already suspicious of my bullshittery and in the 5th question, a free-response that I’d modified. She frowned deeply, her eyes glistened in a sort of sadness.

She spoke with disappointment, mostly with herself, “Why are you trying to make me pass? It’s obvious that the answers that I have are completely wrong, I can tell in the glint of your eyes.”

In order to trick Yujin, I’d have to have a near perfect system—a small gear falling out was all it took for Yujin to catch it.

“Before you freak out, these are questions for my PHD students, you’re a freshman, of course I’d have to modify it.”

“But why are you teaching me, an undergrad, instead of your usual PHD students?”

“Huh?” I was stumped, she was as intelligent as a fox.

Her eyes were melancholic, dark with a sort of sadness, disappointment.

“Why do you teach me?” She added on, then continued, “all your students did nearly the same thing as I did to gain some sort of favor, perhaps I tried slightly harder. I guess I argued with you a little more, challenged your authority, but anyone that did that was swiftly punished by you. I guess I was more insistent to be taught but you shoved off anyone that did that, except me. Why me? You’re not doing it for the money, you have plenty of it and I don’t have any. This doesn’t progress your career as well, you’re teaching a freshman about something that’s so ingrained that you don’t need notes for it.” Slowly her deduction processed what she was saying, and she was getting dangerously close to the answer.

I’d have to go on a tangent to another reason.

“I don’t know, maybe that you’re particularly bright, and I mean it, I know you feel like an idiot sometimes; it’ll never be as bad as how I felt it, god, if I was half as smart as you are when I was a freshman, I might’ve found the philosopher’s stone by now.”

“You’re so bad at giving compliments.” She laughed into her forearms that went to wipe her not-yet flowing tears.

“I mean it.” I replied quickly.

“No you don’t”

“If I tried to do an apprenticeship with my freshman self I’d be on death row the second day.”

It seemed to brighten the mood, she laughed harder, and.... and cried harder into her knees.

Confused by the contradiction of her actions, I just looked away, trying to offer some measure of comfort by just being present.

“I’m sorry, when I sta-start crying I just can’t stop.”

Even when she’s crying, a torrent of emotions pouring out, I don't feel uncomfortable.

“I’m here, Yujin, I’ll wait.”

“Thank you, Mr. Eunwoo-hick-it’s not your fault, I just feel extra emotional these days…”

Everytime she tried to continue with the assessment, her tears seemed to continue flowing, albeit a little slower.

“Hold my hand Mr. Eunwoo.”

“What?”

She sniffled, “Just hold it, it’ll help me stop crying.”

“Alright, alright.” I said as calmly as possible, not saying anymore, grasping her hand tightly.

She was sniffling—not crying—beside me, the distance that we had had closed a little. To say this was a foreign experience was an understatement, a relevant example would be to compare it to would be: a cat in zero gravity, I’d recommend watching some videos of it.

Yet I didn’t feel any reflexive reaction to this novel experience, I only held harder and felt ever-present in the experience

Suddenly, she whimpered, her hand reflexively moved.

“Ow, sorry, I’m not yet used to the tight grip.” She softly said.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, I like it, continue.” Her head finally seemed to release from her damp forearms, her eyes were slightly red.

As I grasped her hand to a firm level, she put her head on the couch seat, her hair slightly splaying out, her eyes looking at the ceiling.

She whispered, “I know you like me.”

“I-” A flourish of heat went straight to my face, everything seemed to be burning down today.

“I like you too.” She continued.

“Please, think about what you’re saying.” I sputtered out, trying to adjust her projected advance.

“I can’t hide it anymore, I just can’t. I’m delicate, I have my heart on my sleeve… but I’ve never been so sure of it—nothing else has ever made me feel this way: no friend, no family member, no passion. You can continue saying that I’m naive, that it’s my first time, that it’ll pass…” Her words start becoming a jumble, as if all that she wanted to get out in a short manner wasn’t enough, as if all that crying was because of what she had to say.

She continued, “I know you’re a professional, that no matter what I say, you’ll decline, even if you liked me. I had to cry because of it, not because I was getting things wrong, I could care less about that… It was the fact that I can no longer handle admiring you from afar, I had to vocalize my appreciation, even if it was all for naught.”

After a brief silence, she continued, “I just had to get this off my chest, even if you despise me now, even if you run away now.”

She looked away, expecting me to walk away while giving her a stare of pure hatred.

She was still looking at the ceiling, trying to prevent more tears from flowing down. I leaned my head back on the couch seat and looked at the ceiling.

“I love you.” I finally said, shaky with a risky determination.

“What?”

“I love you.”

Her hand gripped tightly, her hands were noticeably shaking.

“What now?” She stuttered out.

“I don’t fucking know.” I sighed—sighing deeper than I’ve ever sighed—I also felt an immense pressure release from something grabbing me from within.

“Why don’t we go ahead with the assessment?”

“After all that?”

“Yeah, I mean I feel like a huge burden has been lifted, I just wanna see if I perform better.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” I pulled my head from the couch seat, and sat—facing her.

After a lengthy discourse, one that stretched for more than an hour judging by how we both had to correct our posture at least a dozen times. And, within that discourse, Yujin was infallible, every question was answered with lengthy consideration with the nuance, the specificity, the word choice.

Near the end, it went something like this: “Foucault’s theory states that the evolving system of penal systems aligns, or in parallel, with everything around us. Before, in medieval ages, violent spectacles of blood and gore were prioritized as punishment, no additional consideration for the esotericism within. Whereas, now, the spectacle of violence is wholly shunned and penal systems focus on shaping the soul, rehabilitating the mind. However, the application of this idea has been rather controversial, and it could be explained with the idea of the panopticon: with the growing concern of shaping the mind, which is almost like a black box, penal systems have a growing habit of surveilling more and more.”

Yujin stared at me for some sort of confirmation.

“And?” I waited expectantly.

“And, this panopticon can be applied to anything, schools, hospitals, even changing cultural norms.”

“Wow, I have to say, how much did you prepare prior to this?”

“Prior to this? A lot, a lot of work.” Her voice was confident, a far cry from her whimpering only a moment ago.

“How do you not sleep in my lectures considering the fact that this material is so much more advanced than the class you take?”

“I can just stare at you.” Her head was getting closer—I didn’t care. In the beginning of the assessment, we were separated by plenty of space—enough to clearly show it was a professional exchange. By the end, we were shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side, speaking cordially, even despite our physical contact.

“Awfully bold for someone who cried in front of her professor for like half an hour straight.”

“Ugh! Don’t remind me.” Her face cringed.

I bit my lip, looking down—the mood was serene, it’s just that I keep getting reminded that I’m willingly participating in a mutual seduction between professor and student.

Fuck all of it.

I pulled my hand out of her hand—before she could demand that I return my hand—I wrapped my arm around her upper back, with my hand wrapping at the end of her shoulder.

Her posture straightened during the process, of course the forbidden path was still on her mind, still latent and not yet brought to fruition. But she quickly adapted, she looked to her side, at me, smiling warmly.

“It’s so amazing. How many hints have I had to give out?”

“Don’t act like you manipulated me to do this.”

“How else would the great Eunwoo betray his values? Just a wisp in the wind?”

“You brat, don’t forget my honorifics.”

“What? I couldn’t hear you… Eunwoo.”

I quickly pull her in, with my hand shielding the back of her head before I pushed her onto the floor, a soft tuft sound. I was on top of her, between the couch and coffee table, with her legs locked between mine.

Her doe eyes were on full display, her large pupils were somehow dwarfed by her eyelids which opened wider, the whites of her eyes under and above the pupil visible. She was shocked, taboo aside, it’s likely she’s never even experienced something like this.

“Can I kiss you?” Four words. These four words were all that I could think of, fantasize about for these past months. She’d accept of course, they all did—in the past. Still, there’s an immeasurable tension, an uncertainty without even weighing in the consensual agreement.

Perhaps some part of the tension was the taboo, that a professor was about to ruin the makeup of a freshman; smudge her lipstick, suck her lips until they were swollen; the condensation of love-making staining, blending in the carefully sculpted makeup with her natural beauty.

I didn’t hear the agreement, in part due to the fact that Yujin herself brought her head up to kiss me. Unfortunately, some care was forgotten, the way I had to grab Yujin's head led to a soft collapse onto the carpet, her head making a soft thump, our teeth clicking from the force. A collaborative soft chuckle escaped through the smallest of air leaks between our lips—a testament to our dedication to continue kissing, then it was airtight again, her soft lips glided over mine, her taste so feminine, so ephemeral.

It was obvious she was chaste, perhaps even ‘unclaimed’, her virginal lips were erratic, confused, yet so fucking shamelessly hot. Her low moans vibrated more in my mouth, goading me further, to enter deeper into her soft, welcoming mouth.

Slowly, steadily, our tongues entwined, the kiss was less air tight to allow for a more dynamic, sensual french kiss. Her mouth was begging, I was obliging, there was never a fairer exchange, as if her mouth was made for mine, and hers for mine.

Suddenly, she managed to push me over, until I was face-up, staring into Yujin’s eyes. This was the first time our eyes met during the makeout session, there wasn’t a single word that could explain what we needed to do; besides, our glazed eyes, slick with lust, spoke more than a one-dimensional tool like language. A small chuckle escaped our lips when our lips met in the middle, her head positioning lower, my head higher in the air, until my goading hands, entwined in her angelic soft hair pulled her head down. Our lips slotted in like perpendicular lines, no matter how awkward it felt, it just felt right, as if it were the most lustful way of expressing our unbridled affectations.

My hands explored her clothed body, exploring the beauty on me—who is restlessly, yet in a fierce, virginal way exploring every inch of my mouth—her beautiful curves were soft, pliant, firm, any press had an opposing force—an illegally soft opposing force. She was an angel—an angel on top of me, unaware of how much I wanted to ruin her.

“You’re going to regret it.” I say, in between wet kisses on Yujin’s lips. “This is the only thing I’ve been sure of.” Yujin replied, her voice husky with a sort of mindlessness that only the kiss could’ve caused. I reply, scaldingly, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Still trying to warn her, of course, there was a mind and body separation. I was completely, utterly, under the seduction of Yujin, no matter how much I warned her. We both knew, that I wouldn’t hesitate to fuck her all over the dorm—not even for a millisecond. “Please, huff, that's all I’ve ever wanted, all I could think ever about… to be by your side through it all.” She pressed another kiss, a brief one, “The messy way you keep your desk, and how happy I am to organize it, how obliging I am. You’ve seduced me without knowing, before you ever even thought about me I’ve imagined millions of scenarios with you by my side.” Another kiss, a light peck, “Imagine the pride I felt when I found you left your suitcase by the chair in the library, to serve you measurably. It was just ordinary for you, but, but… it was the seventh heaven for me…”

Yujin was systematically removing every screw, with a perfectly fit screwdriver. Whether Yujin was conscious of it or not; she was kryptonite, the way her soft thighs brush against the sides of your abdomen, the soft feeling of her breasts, dipping onto my chest.

I needed to do more, with our mouths still connected, I sat up. Her ass was on my lap, the changing sensory world didn’t matter to her, all she wanted to do was oblige in the kisses. It didn’t even phase her once when I picked her up, standing, only, her legs locked herself in place to continue our mouth-to-mouth connection. I began my march to her bedroom, optimized to the utmost degree, every small peek I had of her bedroom perfectly aiding in this desperate situation—where I have to fuck Yujin for the remaining day, then the next, perhaps even forever; if only time would allow it so.

Her body clung to mine as I pressed her against the bed. This time, I had to pull off the heat of my loins unbearably tight, wanting—of new sensations. I could only imagine how ridiculous I looked, given how swollen Yujin’s lips were, I could only imagine how bad it must be—of course, the imagery was supplemented with Yujin's soft giggle, her eyes staring at my mouth.

I finally got to rid Yujin of her treacherous t-shirt—one that blocked the view of her perfect breasts, her perfect abdomen. Her lithe, firm body was running every gear in my head, on how to perfectly ravish—to perfectly mark with my actions. Yujin could only stare, wide-eyed, she doesn’t know what happens after, a little virgin, there needn't be a single statement clarifying this—I’ve already explored her enough to conclude so. I press into her, my mouth near her ears, “Don’t worry Yujin, you’ll just be under the greatest pleasure of your life, helplessly moaning—squealing on your professor’s face.” All she could reply with was a deep, sensual moan that would seem like someone pressed into her lungs, that’s how deep it was. Slowly, but surely, I shift down, letting my fingers grip onto her godly skin, leaving vertical white trails on her skin until her pelvis; when I hook her skirt, off.

I could immediately feel the goosebumps on her thighs, where the warmth, the security of the skirt—or the lack thereof—provided some protection of her core, her wet little core. I stare into her eyes again. My stature of a well-respected professional is gone—only an animalistic drive to nail the hottest woman in the world through the bed. The dynamic of professor and student, no matter how fucked up, no matter how morally corrupt—or nefarious; began to turn me on instead of inhibit, it seems so to for Yujin as well, the stain of her arousal clear.

Her arms seemed to retract to her chest, her forearms squeezed her breasts together; though, I’m sure that wasn’t intended, rather, it was likely to protect her little throbbing heart from the sensations, that heart she had on her sleeve. Despite my raging erection, my raging lust, I was inclined to treat her like porcelain, at least that part of me wasn’t totally exhausted. Except when Yujin said, “I’m not so fragile, daddy, break me.” Uncontrollably, greedily I pressed my mouth against her wetness, kissing around the soft skin. The wetness radiated, even under a layer of cloth, albeit a very flimsy, sexy, cloth.

Small whimpers rung out, vibrating the surface of her glossy skin around her heat after every small peck I placed on her inner thighs. Her legs were between my head, her thighs rested above my shoulder. As Yujin stared with a dogged innocence, a beautiful hesitance—-I hooked the side of her panty. I pulled—softly, making sure the wet cloth makes as much contact, frictional force with her pink core. The gift wrapping revealed something divine, the lightest pink you can imagine, glossy with something that only be arousal. Slowly, I dipped my tongue into her core—it was unimaginably comfortable, the way her pussy felt on my tongue, a sort of hot soft-serve that got molded by your tongue. But it didn’t taste like anything, that’s when a realization hit: she spent an inordinate amount of time preparing, making sure that every part of her was ripe for a nice fuck, and slowly guided me into her siren-like seduction. I patted the side of her ass, giving a grin—as nasty as I could make it, a sign of things I was about to do, a sort of payback for her masterful manipulation. She stared back, her open mouth, the visible teeth morphed into a half-smile, still focused on how pleasurable my tongue was on her pussy. Immediately, I placed my finger on her clit, pressing softly against it, then circling it before I dipped my tongue deeper into her unimaginably tight hole. Her breathing went faster, her lower-half rubbed softly—even resisting when the pleasure was far too much. Of course, that’s not what she signed up for—she signed up for a grueling fucking, a rough marking by her beloved professor.

10 seconds, only 10 seconds after the eye-contact, she came all over the bed. Her juices flowed freely, painting her inner thighs in some beautiful glossy coating. Her abdomen tensed in a rough hyperventilation, her cries grew higher and loud before she released into a deep moan. I tried to get as much of her juices on my fingers as possible, before letting her take it in the mouth—making her taste the fruits of her efforts, then spreading the saliva on my fingers over her chin.

“You taste amazing by the way.” I stated, waiting for some explanation.

“This is how I taste, always.” She panted, justifying it all.

“It wasn’t just a carefully constructed ruse to bed me?”

She scoffed, “What kind of evil bitch do you think I am? I’m beginning to worry about what type of woman you bedded before me to make you think pussy tastes bad.” Scoffing, her chest heaving, all glistened up.

“I’m a virgin too, I wouldn’t know.” I replied, jokingly.

This time, she whimpered, “That’s… Ugh” I felt a resistance, then a strong push, she was suddenly saddened at the prospect of being just another lady bedded, another number. While she focused on the sentiment, my eyes, my lustful gaze only landed on her body. Of course, there’s always an opportunity after every resistance—an opposing force against the applied force. Her head was positioned away, stubbornly opposing, but she left her bare neck—her smooth, thin neck—too openly.

Thus, my lips ended up on her smooth neck---squeezing out her pitiful moans. "Ungh~stop~! I'm still sensitive." She squeaked, her little throat muscles striated in trying to get her meek statement out. Fuel to the fire, it was only fuel to the fire, like a flame retardant---such as water---only strengthening the flame.

I marked her neck full of light bruises, ones that'll be dark tomorrow---dark in how badly I've wanted to possess her. Truly, I've gone insane. My mouth traced a path, from her soft, bruised neck down her bosom. Her nipples were framed with perky breasts, soft with a delicate femininity that she curated so diligently, so meticulously. Her little squeaks, pleads, exited her cute mouth faster, almost as much as when I ate her pussy. It was due to the multi-task that I engaged in, devouring her breast, whilst my hand massaged the other---less fortunate---breast.

Slowly, I released myself from her delicious breasts, still insatiable, pressed down on her breasts, my index fingers gliding, gripping against her nubs as if it were joysticks---literal joy sticks. Her breasts were painted in a beautiful pink hue, from how I used her, how I marked her---initially whitened from the pressure, then pink, then likely to be red for the rest of the day.

"Eunwoo..." she was splayed out on the bed, utterly satisfied---still with an enthusiastic gaze. "I want to suck your cock." She stated, matter of fact. "I want you to paint my mouth in your seed." she continued. "Let your seed fill my belly, the remains coating my chin..." her movements after each statement, in the silence, moved to push me on my back as she got up from her back. "Because, Professor, Eternal Love? Was that the title? And who was the love interest? If I didn't forget, it was... Khujin? As brilliant as you are, your naming conventions leaves a lot to be desired, I mean come on, it sounds oddly familiar." She completely pushed me over; I was slightly paralyzed with the discovery that she read what I was writing---it wasn't remotely family friendly, and perhaps, aimed towards her. Her eyes stared at me with knowing eyes, what exactly I desired from her at that moment; her lithe, perky body was positioned between my legs, kneeling, preparing to dip her mouth into eternal lust.

"From then on... Khujin took the face-fucking, dutifully, sexually, despite the size with which she was confronted with, took it. Her mouth ached, was pained, though, not in a conventional way; it ached in the desire to take him deeper." She just... requoted the entire sequence perfectly word-for-word from the paper.

Fuck!

There's nothing left to protect, nothing left to resist, we were unclothed, our secrets revealed, there was nothing left except our mutual wish to ravage each other until dawn. Our enlarged pupils---almost alien---met each other, glazed in some atypical determination. Finally, her head lowered and lowered before her tongue placed a meek lick on my cock. Then kisses, then a mix of licks while her hands clenched my wrists---signaling some sign that I shouldn't interfere, that I should enjoy this requited vindication.

Her mouth---even if virginal---provided some of the greatest relief. Her soft lips, erratic, still provided relief from my swollen tip. Her rookie mistakes, the slight graze of teeth, the meddling tongue only seemed to heighten the experience.

"You're a naughty fucking professor." She said, slightly biting down on the head, getting the intended reaction out of me---a great spasm. "Writing porn of a character that exactly resembles me. Mmmm naughty... so fucking naughty.."

"You're a horny, good-for-nothing student, Yujin."

We were fighting while she shallowly sucked in between her sentences, listening thoughtfully with a cock between her lips.

"I remember when you left that jacket at the library, I stole it. Then, I smelt it everyday, the cologne, the detergent, the natural smell. When you slept around I could smell it, the faint flowery smell alien to your scent."

She released her grip on my wrists, instead grabbing my dick, to better stimulate---to better punish. Her mouth hollowed out, the suction tremendously pleasing, the way she tongued at the underside of my shaft showing her real-time improvement. Then she popped my shaft out of her mouth again.

Somehow, she was angry again.

"Do you have nothing to say?" Yujin asked---irritatingly.

"I'm here now, Yujin."

"Idiot."

Her mouth went back, into the irresistible motions that she quickly figured out. Her head bobbed faster, I felt immensely relieved, yet I also felt an unbelievable greed, a sort of ripple between two identities in parallel, fighting for ultimate control.

I quickly and harshly gripped her hair, led her mouth down to the hilt---her low choke lubricated the hilt. Her fingers lightly tapped the sides of my thighs, with her perfect nails, the smooth skin, such a brave contrast to what was happening to her mouth. Her mouth suctioned again, not a word needed for preparedness, only the motions of our sexual organs were enough. Slowly, my grip on her hair went down to her scalp, a firmer place to grasp, to debase her identity further.

Her lips dragged long and hard, the suction felt stronger---the feeling of pulling out from her mouth harder than going in at this point. Her lips occasionally touched the base on my cock, only edging me closer. Until, I peaked, I growled as the first rope of cum landed deep into her throat. Even in this constricted, breathless stance where her dick was so deep in her throat that her throat reddened, her glazed puppy eyes stared back, almost a sign of some sort of sick victory over me. Then a second splash, the pressure so strong you'd think the flow was laminar---though I wouldn't know, her sexy throat hid it all. My head flew back, the relief of it all so strong, ropes turned into strings, strings turned into nothing---only the sensation of a suckling swallow could be felt on my sensitive tip.

There was no brief awkward silence, her mouth released in a godly erotic fashion. Her spittle still gathered on my cock, the spit strands coating her chin, her tongue clear and empty of the load I covered the insides of her mouth with.

She smiled so brightly - so happily. Her hands patted me on the thighs, trying to help me reconcile the fact that I throat-fucked a college freshman, the age gap already taboo, the fact that we were professor and student - only worsened it.

Her eyes were slightly red, the hint of tear trails on her face apparent. So badly did I want to hold her dear to my body, let the warmth of my chest keep her snug, let her rest. Yet, her reddened tits, her confused doe-like puppy eyes, her confused face, the slight glistening of her inner thighs goaded me endlessly. From that point on, I hadn't even realized I was hovering over her body. We were really gonna do it, I was gonna fuck her on her own bed, this beautiful, smart student.

"You really are an idiot" I say.

"Why? Because I like you? Because you're some respected higher up that I shouldn't entertain having a relationship with?"

It was that word: relationship. What are we gonna become-

"Eunwoo... master... professor... I don't just offer up my virginity to anyone... if you think I'm that easy to offer myself up to anyone - you're fucking crazy."

"You're a seduction master." I chuckle, letting her know the weakness of my self-control.

"If I'm a seduction master, then you're - I don't know - like Alain Delon." her hands hooked the nape of my neck, she was positioned so delicately, ready for whatever I wanted to do to her.

"I want this because I love you, Eunwoo."

"Who would've thought our little freshman is such a romantic, huh?" As I nuzzled my face into the side of her neck, give soft licks to her soft neck - her soft face a contrast to my stubbled jaw.

"Regardless of whether you insert your shaft inside me or not. I'll still follow you, to the ends of the earth, until you file a restraining order- Ah~!"

a single finger entered her, "Shh Yujin, An Yujin - all that pining to give up after a restraining order? I'll have to get you drunk on my dick, so that even the splitting of the earth won't deter you."

She squeaked, she definitely came, she definitely fucking came - hah. I let the finger exit slow, slowly trailing the wet finger up her abdomen - a sort of trail forming.

Finally, I palmed my dick, staring, realizing that I didn't have a condom. "Oh fuck - I don't have a condom" saying my thought out loud, she butts in, "Doesn't matter, please, anything - please." Her desperation clear in her tone - her fingers gripping dearly onto me.

"Who said anyone's leaving?" This time, her eyes were even wider. It was time, she knew it, I knew it, each step an acceleration to a barrier that we kept raising - was there even a barrier anymore? The depravity... the soulful acknowledgement of this cording relationship rose the hairs on my entire body; the blood in my chest frantically seemed to disperse, trying to control itself, to also control my entire body.

Though, if Yujin is under me, begging to be fucked - so hellbent, her glazed and aroused eyes pleading for some sinful contract. If only she knew - how much I'd do - there needn't be a single contract. I couldn't ever control myself anyway, what's there to deny?

Slowly - slowly - entered her, her sopping wetness gladly parted with some paradoxical resistance. The more I entered, the more her pussy resisted, the more her pussy pulled me in. The most sinful sounds, even more so than those of a minute ago, the squelch of a virgin hole being stretched - fuck, holy fuck.

"Ngghhh~ holy shit, please, more!" She desperately tried to close her mouth, aware of the lack of noise canceling. The way her mewls and moans exited between the tightest clasp of her mouth, the way her twinkled, the exasperation of a different type of pain stretching, beautifying her already goddess-like face. "I love it! Eunwoo~", that earned her a full stroke to the hilt. I grabbed the hand off her mouth - the way her face morphed into fear was beautiful, she was close to her neighbors - those neighbors who were about to hear Yujin's highest shrieks, highest orgasms. Another stroke, then another, I couldn't even describe how sinful her sounds were, shrieks, moans, deep to high - the sheer entropy of her mannerisms clearly showing her arousal. The next door neighbors would know, even the vertical neighbors would know. If they saw me entering her home, then I'm fucked - yet, I can't stop fucking her, the way her hips rotate and drift off my cock, the way her pussy lips wrap so tightly, so snug around my length.

I began pounding away, her thin waist acclimating to my tight grip, the way her breasts bounced when her ass slapped against my loins; who said missionary was boring? The way I kneeled, the way her body angled at a point - true rookie mistake - I kept pounding away at her g-spot. How many times she came - I wouldn't know - but the amount of liquid dispersed all over us, a mix of sweat and whatever else was definitely a clue. The way my length explored her insides so thoroughly, the way I'm pretty sure I bottomed her out, bound to bruise her cervix; the way her moans grew more unhinged, her eyes slowing going back inside her head, her arms almost unresponsive.

Until.

Until, Yujin grabbed onto me, it wasn't an ordinary grip, a nuanced grip that lovers of decades could understand - I'm sure there's some hidden meaning in that. The way her soft fingers grabbed my forearm while she laid down - panting with sweat, the glow of sex, possibly covered in her squirt. I made sure to stop at exactly when the base of my length met with her pussy - immersing myself in her beautiful warmth, sheathed in her velvety walls.

"Eunwoo - please slow down, I'm not going anywhere, by the next half-hour we'll be walking skeletons..."

This time, still plugged with my length I pulled her up, face-to-face where she sat on the slope of my kneel - adjusting myself accordingly to not destroy my knees.

"How could I Yujin? Light of my life, fire of my loin-"

She playfully slapped my shoulder

"Why are you referencing Lolita!?" in a giggling manner, understanding all at once.

"Careful where you slap your hands around, Yujin."

"Hm? What're you gonna do-mm!" A closed reaction to receiving a deep kiss. Slowly, my arms slithered around her back, to make sure that she doesn't fall - but, mostly to ensure that I could fuck her, utterly, fully under my control.

The way her eyes shined, with a deep desire - some atypical lust - yet still somehow looking so innocent, as if brilliant gems were in place of her pupils. Every time I get to stare at her, especially now that our eyes were separated by the width of a nose, I feel glad that someone - just someone like that exists, even better with the fact that we cohabit this area, and even better that our lips slip against each other. The act of exchanging saliva - a deeply disturbing thought - hadn't registered in us at all, only desire and love.

Slowly, her moans left her pretty mouth with emphasis - clearly enjoying the slower pace in which I gave these decrepit kisses to her cervix. Her velvety folds seemed to contract even more spastically - the movement easier, yet tighter, yet harder, parenthetically a paradox.

If only such paradoxes were this pleasurable.

"I'm gonna cum, Yujin." The sounds were absolutely vicious, viscous with the repeated slapping of our loins, the cold strands of her juices landing on my thighs whenever her pink core left the base of my length. "Eunwoo, give it to me, inside, everything." I tried to object; "Eunwoo, shhh, don't try to talk sense with me - it's too late for that, if you don't spill your biggest seed inside me, I'll chase you around the world."

"A restraining order?" I replied, curious for a response.

"And that'll stop me? After getting drunk on your dick, as you said? " She replied back, serious.

"You're right baby." I pumped into her deeper, slanting a little to get topological synchronicity: my chest fully in contact with her chest, the warmth compared to the biting cold of the environment only goading us on further. The way her soft, perky breasts pooled on my chest made my pumps only deeper - kisses more passionate.

"What if I do? What if I cum inside you?" Our eyes were level, engaging in a seriously serious topic. All care should've been granted to the topic - of course, we both knew the pending event.

"Then, presumably, understandably, I'll be by your side - with your favorite tea, massaging your soreness. And maybe, just maybe, nursing a little Eunwoo." Fuck! I hugged her tight - too tight. The small of her back caved in with my tight hug as I mashed my dick inside her swollen pussy. The way she moaned was less noticeable, she was so focused on receiving the load - breathing into the side of my neck, playing with my hair, exacting some stimuli to wring me out dry.

Her body perfectly molded into my force. Her ass molded against my tough thighs, her hard nipples poked my chest expectedly. When, just when, the hypothetical situation with Yujin - of a filial future - flashed in my mind, the first release of semen launched inside her. Ribbons of her deepest desire filled her - indulging her. We kissed - the natural course as expected when I released inside her.

Ropes of semen turned into strings, then finally - nothing. We embraced each other, I still hugged her just as tight, she hugged back with the delicacy of an angel.

"Yujin..."

"Holy shit." She replied.

Holy shit was right.

"-Like holy fucking shit." I emphatically replied.

Her gem-like pupils looked at me, her entire face turned into a smile.

"You'll have to call me wife from now on."

"Hm?" Fully not processing her request.

"Call me wife behind closed doors."

"Why?"

"Because.. why not?"

After a swift thought - one that didn't really have any substance at all - "Wife... wife... rolls off the tongue nicely."

She gave a peck on my lips, "make sure that it rolls off the tongue as easy as it does now... I'll want to hear it everyday."

"Wifey... who's cleaning the bed?" I jokingly inquired - of course, the truth was that the bed wouldn't dry in a day, and the way we are right now: the overflowing semen was still plugged inside her - with my cock.

Though, that would be a worry that could be taken care of later. Right now, the half-life of our post-sex fatigue finished - the other half to be finished when our lips met again.

Fin.

#yujin smut #yujin #kpop smut #male reader #female kpop idol #f!idol #m!reader #kpop #smut #fluff

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romanticintheory · 9 months ago

Note

Can you do something fluffy and domestic with Price. Like maybe him trying to ask civilian reader out on a date, and everything is just going against him. (He eventually does get to ask her whether or not it was how he planned it.)

john wants to ask his favorite waiter/waitress out on a date, but the universe seems to have other plans for him.

john price x gn!reader

part 2

fluff, john trying his best, domesticity

a/n: ty for the request!! you’re my first one so i hope you like it <3 also, let’s just pretend like the timeline of this fic makes sense :)

Oh, this poor man was hopeless from the start. He had been interested in you for a while and was finding the courage within himself to finally ask you out. He felt silly about the ache in his chest whenever he thought about what your response might be. He just wanted to do right by you was all. So, when he was finally out of his latest mission and allowed to take a break, he was determined to pop the question to you.

The plan was to stop by the flower shop and buy a simple bouquet for you, but when he found himself in front of the store it had been closed. “Family Emergency. Will be back next week.” He didn’t have a week.

Okay, so, no flowers. It was disappointing, to say the least, but he could make do.

You were nearing the end of your shift when your coworker, Missy, tapped you on the shoulder. As you turned away from the table you were cleaning, she leaned down and whispered in your ear, “There’s that hot man here, again. He’s asking for you, dear.”

She ended her news with a knowing wink. Looking past her shoulder, you could clearly see John sitting at a table with a menu in his hands. Your cheeks flushed at Missy’s insinuation.

“Thanks,” you managed to choke out, hoping she didn’t notice how flustered you were.

“Of course. That’s the second time, just so you know,” she reminded teasingly, nudging you with her elbow encouragingly before leaving to go attend to her own tables.

Out of the three times John had been to your restaurant (including this one), he spent the last two specifically requesting your presence. Though you tried not to think much of it, you couldn’t ignore the way it made your heart flutter.

Straightening your uniform, you made your way to his table with a genuine smile—a stark contrast to the fake one you give to other customers just for the sake of work. John pretended like he wasn’t secretly watching you in the periphery of his vision and looked up at you once you found your way to him.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you beamed.

“‘S nice to see you too,” he replied, unable to keep that lovestruck smile off his face. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

You laughed softly, “I’ve been alright. You know, just the same old. How about you, John?”

“I’m afraid it’s been the same for me. Just got off a mission.” Not once did his eyes leave yours. It was almost intimidating, the way he was so dedicated to giving you his full attention.

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” you said hopefully.

It was the perfect opportunity for him. All he had to say was, ”Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime,” and he almost pulled it off.

“Actually, I—”

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

Internally cursing himself, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw the contact Laswell flashing on his screen. Usually, when she called, it was something worth hearing. He looked up at you apologetically, but you just smiled and waved your hand at him to let him know it was okay.

Standing up, he answered Kate’s call and pressed his phone between his ear and his shoulder. You couldn’t hear much of what the other person was saying. It was mostly just John nodding his head, saying a quick “yes” or “no,” or mentioning what you assumed were his colleagues' names.

Gathering his things, he turned to you and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave, right now. I apologize for wasting your time like this.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nice to have seen you anyway, and I’m glad you’re doing well. I don’t mind, honestly,” you reassured him, secretly disappointed at the fact that his visit was so short-lived.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “If it's not too out of line, may I ask when you get off work?”

Throwing all caution to the wind, you quickly answered, “At about ten thirty.”

“Ten thirty, all right,” he said (more so to himself than you). “Have a good rest of your shift, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, I hope all is well at work,” you nodded, watching as his eyes lingered on your for a moment before he left for the door.

The entire time he was back at work the thought of you sat in the back of his mind. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember why he was there. Something about an important lead? Or maybe a new contact? Honestly, his head was in the clouds.

Even though you didn’t know he was going to ask you out, he still felt guilty for not being able to pop the question to you. As soon as he left the meeting, he was out the door. It was already ten, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant. He silently cursed himself for the second time that day, still determined to get in his car and see if, by some miracle, he could catch you.

He had imagined himself in the exact opposite situation he was currently in. He had wanted to be out of uniform in something more presentable and approachable, being able to spend his time with you without any interruptions. Now, he was having to rush his pace with his uniform on as he attempted to make up for his first failed attempt at asking you out. He didn’t want to be the captain with you, just John Price.

Peeking into the front door of the now-closed restaurant, he scanned the few workers left inside to see if any of them were you only to be met with disappointment. His frustrated grew ten-fold as he turned away from the door, making his way back to his car.

Just as he was about to hop in, you were exiting the side door with your uniform in hand.

“John?” you called out, stopping just a few feet away from him. You almost didn’t recognize him with the way he was dressed (not that you were complaining).

He whirled around instantly at the sound of your voice. “(Y/n),” he started. “I almost thought I missed you.” You smiled. “No, one of my coworkers needed help with something so I stayed behind just a little bit.” “How kind of you. Most would leave as soon as they were able,” he praised, shutting his car door behind him.

“She’s always been kind to me. I figured the least I could do is repay her.” You paused. “So, uh, what brings you back here so late?”

You.

“Well, I was just…” Why was he nervous? He had asked out plenty of people before (though none quite like you). For Christ’s sake, he was a disciplined soldier capable of incredible feats without breaking a single sweat. He’s faced dangerous criminals with a calm face and a stable mind, but with you, oh, it was like everything he ever learned went out the window.

You waited expectantly with bated breath.

“Well, I was actually wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime. Anywhere you like,” he finally managed. “‘Course, feel free to say no. I promise I won’t be hurt.”

He’s lying, of course, but you didn’t need to know that.

Your face lit up at his question, answering with an immediate, “Yes, I’d love to!”

Finally, finally, he could release the breath he was holding. His shoulders visibly relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned at your response.

“How do you feel about movie and a dinner?”

Maybe it didn't go exactly as he'd planned, but at least you said yes, right?

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luxaofhesperides · 11 months ago

Text

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him.

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good.

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny.

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price.

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe.

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay.

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school.

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile.

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it.

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days.

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help.

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke.

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered.

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better.

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit.

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back.

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup.

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path.

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte.

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?”

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is.

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all.

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!”

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden.

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea.

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it.

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #duke went from flirting to accidentally outing both himself AND danny as people w powers. and then lowkey confessing. disaster <3 #meanwhile danny has been slowly falling for duke bc of his cute and cheesy pick up lines that he always turned into a joke bc he didnt #believe that it was real. and also his coworkers would embarrass him if he got too flustered #they all ship him and duke btw. so do some of the regulars #coffe with a two minute show lol #thank you for the prompt!!

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withahappyrefrain · 4 months ago

Note

opening the door for them or pulling their seat out before they sit down with bob would be delightful!

You had only been at the bar for ten minutes and already regretted all the decisions you made that led to this moment.

Why did you agree to a blind date?

First of all, it was with your friend's coworker. And no matter how much Natasha said it was fine, you couldn't help but be nervous.

You had heard stories of the squad Nat worked with, some good, some…not so good.

"It's not the Hangman guy, right?" You asked her when she first brought it up.

Nat pretended to gag, "You're my friend, not enemy. It's my WSO."

So there you were, awkwardly shifting in the chair at the bar as you looked towards the entrance for the sixth time, anxiety building up in your stomach and threatening to come out like bile any moment.

This was a horrible idea.

You tried dating, you really did. Various dating apps, going to different bars and strike up a conversation, but nothing seemed to work out. Sometimes you'd get ghosted, other times it would end with you curled up in a ball on your couch with a pint of ice cream while some stupid romantic comedy played in the background. You quickly learned that it didn't matter how great the first or second date went, folks will change their mind about you at the drop of a hat.

At least with Hinge or Tinder, you could see a picture of the person and speak before meeting them. With a blind date, you didn't have that, only the information your matchmaker had given you.

He went by Bob. He was a WSO. From the Midwest, specifically Montana ("Don't refer to his accent as Southern, he will go on a spield '' Nat warned you). Very sweet, but shy at first, which was why he supposedly had trouble finding someone.

He sounded nice. Potentially lovely. But you knew better by now, after years of failed attempts and broken hearts.

Sounding nice didn't guarantee anything.

You wondered what Nat had said about you. Probably that only your parents called you by your full name. That you and Nat met through college was also a given. She's had shit luck when it comes to finding someone, hopefully you can change that?

You checked your phone for the upteemth time. 7:12. He was supposed to be here twelve minutes ago. Surely he wouldn't stand you up, considering he had to work with Nat the next day?

The idea was surprising, but not shocking. Despite the intention of dating, some folks were quite careless when it came to a heart that wasn't theirs. You had been on that receiving end more times than you'd like to admit.

He probably thought the idea of going on a date with his coworker's friend was too risky, too weird. Perhaps he looked you up on social media and found an aspect of you that he didn't like. Thanks to numerous assholes, you could list off several potential reasons. Not pretty enough, not interesting enough, not affectionate enough, too affectionate, too clingy-

The list could go on and on. Thankfully it didn't. Thankfully, the sound of your name, said by a soft voice broke you out of your thoughts and made you turn around.

Oh.

He reminded you of the male love interests from those Old Hollywood films you watched with your grandmother as a small child. Sandy brown hair that was tousled in waves, piercing blue eyes that stood out against his sharp nose and rosy cheeks.

But above all, he looked kind. Truly kind. Maybe it was the lopsided, assuring grin or the way his cobalt eyes shone against the soft lighting of the restaurant.

"Bob?"

His thin lips formed into a saccharine smile as he stepped forward, extending a long arm out.

Holy shit, he brought you flowers.

You couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed and open mouth at the beautiful marigolds and orange sunflowers. You didn't know people still did that-no date had ever done so for you.

"I-I'm so sorry for bein' late. I swear, I'm always on time, I just wasn't sure which flowers to get ya. I-I mean, I knew you liked sunflowers, Phoenix told me that but I wasn't sure if yellow was overdone or if I should do something different and I'm really sorry-"

"You're perfect," your eyes widened at your own words, "The flowers I mean! The flowers are perfect and beautiful and traffic happens, it's okay!"

His smile widened at your reassurance and you swore it melted your heart. Heat rose to your face as you accepted the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his.

The two of you walked to your table. When Bob pulled out your seat for you, your heart fluttered.

There was no way this guy could be real. Why was he single?

Often, the conversation on a first date was awkward and full of long pauses.

Not this one. Not with Bob.

He asked you questions about yourself. Hell, he even asked follow up questions. And they were thoughtful.

Bob felt the same way.

Yes, he found you stunning. But you were much more than that. You were insightful, passionate, kind.

Why on Earth were you single?

Bob was determined to make everyone else's loss his gain.

"Would you want to go get ice cream?" His fingers were tapping the table, a nervous habit that you found adorable, "I mean, I get it if you're tired but if you're not, I'd love to continue?"

A downright dopey smile overtook your face as you nodded enthusiastically.

"I'd love to continue!"

You couldn't hide your surprise though when Bob all but jogged in order to hold the door for you.

"Oh, thank you! But you don't have to do that," you explained. His brows knitted together in confusion, the corners of his lips slightly downturned.

How could one man be so cute?

"Do what?" He asked, confusion all over his voice.

"Oh, um, holding the door?" Was it wrong to have brought that up? Oh God, was he going to think of you as rude?

Instead Bob smiled as he shook his head, "Nonsense. You should never have to hold the door."

Oh no. You were going to be down bad.

As the night went on, your nerves disappeared, giving Bob a sweet smile when he held the door open or pulled out your chair.

You didn't say anything when he held the car door open to drive you home, just that smile that made his heart flutter.

But when he opened the car door after arriving at your home, you stood instead of walking forward.

"I....I had a really good time tonight," the nerves came swelling back. You couldn't recall the last time you had clicked with someone so quickly.

"I did too," his smile warmed your body, "Maybe...if you'd like, we could-"

"Do this again?" God, you really hoped that's what he was going to say. You didn't think your heart could handle it otherwise.

"Yeah," he let out a nervous chuckle, "I'd love to do this again."

Your heart soared. Nat now had rights to the biggest "I told you so" but you couldn't find it in yourself to care at this moment.

"I'm not doing anything this Friday," containing your excitement was difficult. You were positive that big, dopey grin was plastered on your face right now.

Bob loved it.

"I'm not either." That was kinda a lie. Fridays were usually when his squad went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate the end of the week.

But Nat wouldn't mind and that was all that mattered.

You two exchanged phone numbers, hands clumsily typing as you both tried to sneak glances at one another.

Once your respective phones were back in your hand, it seemed like the front door was calling your name.

Not that you wanted to leave.

Offering him coffee at this hour would be silly, no one did that anymore.

"Can I walk you to the door?" His voice was timid, unsure.

"Please." It came out abruptly, as though you had lost control of your mouth, "I mean, yes. I would like that."

When Bob offered his arm, you accepted, linking yours with his.

"This is my stop," you motioned to the front door, earning a chuckle from Bob. God, he was so handsome. And his hands were so large. What would it be like to hold them?

"I had a really good time tonight. Probably the best date I've had in...a while." The dusting of pink that spread across his cheeks was downright darling.

"Could I-"

"If you don't kiss me, I might explode."

Normally you weren't one to be so bold. But the ache inside you was threatening to burst at the seams.

"Oh thank God," was all Bob could get out before pressing his lips to yours.

#my writing #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #robert Bob Floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x female reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns.

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

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rindoubug · 3 months ago

Text

make your problem mine too

pairing: bonten rindou haitani x gender neutral reader

content warnings: fluff, established relationship, slight angst, mentions of anxious thoughts, medication (antidepressants), petname sweetheart, doll, baby, love used, rindou is the sweetest, reader is super anxious, mild language, one sweet kiss is involved.

word count: 1.9k and some spare change

It hasn’t been that long since you and Rindou started going out. It’s been a little over a year, to be fair but it’s like you two were made for each other. Rindou likes to call you corny but you know he secretly likes hearing you be all sappy (he’s never stopped you from doing so). Ever since Rindou laid his eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you at that very moment. As for you? It was love at first sight.

“Hey Y/N, your boyfriend’s here!” Your coworker shouted while you silently screamed at her to keep her voice down. Thankfully you guys were at the back of the cafe, away from the prying eyes of customers. “What? Every time that purple haired dish of a man comes here, he specifically requests for you. Who does he think he is? Requests!” She laughed then nudged your shoulder while you were washing the dishes. You shake your head, laughing at her remark. “And why does that concern me?” You weren’t blind, you knew what she was telling you was true. But you didn’t want to acknowledge anything because every time you went to him and took his order, all he did was order his iced americano and left. Without even saying anything. It made your blood boil just thinking about it, does he think you were a toy? Well, two could play that game. You tightened your apron and confidently strided to the front, a purple blur entering your vision every time you got closer to the cashier machine.

“Hello, can I take your order?” You asked nonchalantly, not even bothering to look into his lilac eyes. You positioned yourself in front of the machine, an array of the beverages shown upon the virtual menu, ready to take his order.

“Yes, you can.” A long pause. You were getting impatient and looked up at him. He was wearing a smirk, as he took one hand and raked back his purple tresses painfully slowly. You swallowed.

“Okay, sir, and what is it that you’ll be having?”

“I think I’ll have a tall glass of you with a side of your number.” You stopped in your tracks as you heard his answer. “Excuse me?”He chuckled lightly, his downturned eyes casting some sort of spell on you. “You heard me sweetheart. Your number, please.” Heart hammering in your chest, you refrain yourself from giving out a snarky remark and decide to test him. “Sure. Meet me here after my shift,” His eyes lit up. “At 10PM.” You could visibly see his heart sink. It was only 2PM, the usual time he comes here to spy on you. Judging from his reaction, you realised he was a busy man so you were glad you could finally get him off your ass for once. You weren’t opposed to him, you were quite interested actually. But you were bored and wanted to play for a bit. “Okay sweetheart. 10PM it is,” He winked at you before turning around, heading for the door. “Remember though: the name’s Rindou.” He gave a small wave before disappearing into the crowd of people that just entered the cafe. You huffed but immediately put on your customer service face on and started serving customers.

The dreaded 10PM came and sure, you were a little excited to say the least. As you said goodbye to your coworkers, you walked out of the cafe and sure enough, there he was. Rindou. He was leaning against a motorbike, his gorgeous hair flowing in the wind. You gave him a small smile to which he returned with a cheeky grin. Oh, sue you, this was the most excited you’ve ever been. “Coming over here, doll? Today would be nice.” You nodded eagerly, closing the distance between you two – the rest was history.

That was over a year ago. Since that day, you and Rindou have been inseparable. You found out he was the co-owner of a famous club, along with his brother. After 5 months of dating, you agreed to move in with Rindou. You guys have been living the best life with each other, practically knowing each other like the back of your hand. However, you kept one thing from Rindou. You were going to tell him eventually but time kept passing and you kept pushing it to the back of your head. Your mental health was really bad before meeting Rindou. You had to take antidepressants to even go on about your day. Life was just… hard for you. After meeting Rindou, your life did change for the better. Everything was fine and Rindou did his best to make you happy. You knew that you had to tell him sooner or later but you just couldn’t bear to. What if he leaves me? What if I burden him to the point of him hating me? What do I do when he leaves me? You couldn’t live without him in your life, he was everything to you.

You stopped taking antidepressants a few weeks ago because you trusted yourself to be okay, to finally not rely on medication to keep you sane. It was okay for a while until you broke. You had so many anxious thoughts, you couldn’t even get out of bed. Rindou has been away for two days due to some private events at the club he had to attend to at all times. You were so glad he was away so he didn’t have to see you like this. You thought you’d get better before he came back home. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You had no energy to even get out of bed, all you did was cry yourself to sleep and repeated the cycle, over and over again. On the day Rindou was coming home, you managed to take a short shower, just to pretend that you were okay in front of him. However, little did you know, Rindou knew you better than he did himself.

“Baby? You awake?” Oh shit. Rindou. Shit, shit, shit he can’t see you like this. You mustered up the strength you still had and sat up on the bed with the blanket wrapped around you like a burrito roll. Rindou entered your shared bedroom and smiled when he saw you. He walked over to you and pinched your chin lightly, cooing at how cute you looked. “All dolled up for me baby? How considerate of you.” You smiled weakly, trying so hard not to crack. “Mhm, welcome back baby. Rindou, I’m a little tired today. Is it okay if I go to sleep first?” Rindou’s hands shift from your chin to your face. He bends down so he’s at eye-level with you and looks into your eyes, searching for something. “Are you feeling sick, love?” He feels your forehead with the back of his hand. “No, no. Just a little queasy. Maybe I ate something bad earlier.”

That was a lie. You haven’t eaten anything. Rindou starts to look concerned and you immediately grab his hands, holding them properly. “I’m okay, Rindou, don’t worry! It’ll go away tomorrow, I’m sure. I’m so sorry, babe.” Rindou’s eyes light up, the same look he gave you a year ago. He nods, patting your head. “Okay baby. I have some business to take care of so I’ll go to the living room. Give me a call from the bedroom if you need anything, okay?” You nod eagerly and blew him a kiss. He caught it with one hand as he walked out of the room to let you rest.

You heaved a sigh of relief. Your head was buzzing, so many thoughts clouded your mind. You have to tell him… but it could wait for tomorrow. Rindou still has to go to work tomorrow so maybe you can stall it for a few more hours.

You groggily opened your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. Ugh, your head was pounding. What time was it? You squint your eyes at the window, seeing sunlight seeping in through the blinds. They were still closed. It’s probably still daytime, you think as you check your watch. 4:02PM. Rindou should be at work by now… You suddenly feel the bed heavy on the other side - Rindou’s side. You shakily looked to your left to see Rindou sitting in bed, reading a book. He has his glasses on, perched cutely on the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on the page he’s reading. He probably hasn’t noticed you yet. Tears immediately burst from your eyes as you realised that he probably skipped work for you. Because he was worried. You mentally hit yourself as you inched closer to Rindou, eventually settling on his thighs.

Rindou looked down from his book and saw your tear stained face, so forlorn and meek. Rindou’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He hated seeing you like this. He reached over and caressed your cheek with so much care. “Hello, my baby. Did you have a good sleep? Why the tears my love?” Tears were streaming down your face at lightning speed at this rate and you sat up slowly to give him a hug. Rindou guided your legs on top of his so now you were straddling him carefully. “Rindou�� don’t tell me you skipped work for me?” He smiled at you and cupped your face, patting down your hair as he explained. “Of course I did. How could I go to work when you looked like you weren’t feeling very well?” He pushed you forward suddenly, gripping you by the shoulders. “Do you have anything to tell me?” Your eyes widened slightly, slumping a little in Rindou’s grip. Guess it’s time to get it over with.

You sobbed on Rindou’s shirt, crying hard as you explained. You were babbling at some times, making incoherent sounds instead of words but Rindou was as patient as can be. He listened intently as you howled, rocking you back and forth slowly.

After your explanation, Rindou went out of the room for a while to get you a wet towel and a glass of water to wipe you down after all that crying. He hasn’t given his answer yet which made you feel anxious. But you didn’t have to worry. He was Rindou and he cared about you so much. “Y/N, thank you for telling me,” he pulled you in the previous position you two were sitting in since it’s the most comfortable way to talk while maintaining eye contact. “But I hope that you’d tell me sooner. These kinds of things… what did you call them? Your problems?” He shook his head. “Whenever you relay them to me, they won’t become a problem anymore. Because I’ll be here with you every step of the way and we’ll figure out a solution together. I’d never,” he leaned down to your neck, breathing in your scent. “ever,” he stole a few kisses on your neck, his teeth grazing over the skin slightly, not hard enough to leave a mark. “even think about leaving you.” He left one last kiss below your ear before moving to your cheeks. “Please don’t think of that ever again. Promise me?” You looked hard into his eyes, before crashing your lips with his. “I promise. I’m sorry, Rinnie.”

He leans into you and nuzzles your nose with his.

“It’s okay baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you, most.” Always wanting to win, Rindou Haitani. You two cuddled and fell asleep again.

hello! i'm yin and this is my first rindou fic :,D i've never written anything on tumblr or owned a blog but i hope you enjoyed reading. thank you for stopping by! i love rindou sm and this fic was basically 98% self indulgent... rindou reading is my #1 hc and i stand by that!!!! lmk if i missed out any tags, xx

#rindou haitani #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #tokrev rindou #tr rindou #tokyo revengers #fluff #slight angst #rindou #rindoubug – rindou

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neysaadept · 21 days ago

Text

Prometheus Chapter 12

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 12 - Let's Chat

Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, therapy, mentions of sexual assault, murder, torture, strangulation. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6.6k

AO3

“I think this is the first time you had a good excuse for missing a session that wasn’t entirely work related.”

You laugh as your therapist scribbles information on the notepad resting on her thighs. She was sitting on the white chair across from your position on the couch in your apartment. Brian really called out all the stops in making this happen.

You have been seeing Nina Davis for the last four years as part of mandatory therapy because of your unique situation in joining the CIA. Whenever you were stateside, you had to see her and thanks to Rebecca Wilson, you get to see her for six months instead of a couple sessions snuck in before you were deployed once more. The CIA always wanted to get you back working in the field as soon as you were debriefed and cleared.

Nina was a thin woman with well-manicured nails, you couldn’t remember a time they weren’t perfectly filed and polished. Often, they were clear coated but depending on the season or holiday, she dazzled with some color. Like now her nails are colored burgundy that compliment her rust color sweater. Since it was Sunday, she has on jeans and tennis shoes which was about as casual as Nina got. In her office, it was always business casual. You noticed it was only in the last year and a half Nina’s straight blonde hair was paling as she pushed fifty. It was still a lovely shade that made her just as beautiful as it frames her face and slides across her shoulders as she moves.

It makes your thoughts shift to how Emily’s hair does the same but since hers was longer, it cascaded so smoothly like water. You wonder how it would feel to run your hands through it …

Then you hear your name being spoken with increasing urgency to get your attention. You look at Nina apologetically. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Where did you go just now?” she asks in that annoyingly knowing therapeutic curiosity.

“Thinking about work.” She doesn’t buy it and raises a brow to have you elaborate further. “Fine. A co-worker.”

“Are you getting along well with them? You mentioned that Prentiss was causing you problems that first week.”

You shrug, not realizing that what you thought was a simple relieved smile was broad and bright. “Yeah, things are much better. We talked it out and came to a mutual understanding.”

Nina squints wisely. “You have a new friend.”

Damn she’s still good at this shit, you think.

“I wouldn’t call us friends. Not sure people like us define our …” you struggle to find the right words for you and Emily as your curling fingers circle one another in front of you as if trying to grab onto the right words. You’re coworkers for sure. And she has gone out of her way to make you be social with the BAU. You have a lot in common but enough differences to keep each other on a playful edge. The woman knew how to make you feel safe around her and not be on guard.

“ … uh, I guess we’re a budding friendship?” You wince. “That sounds lame.”

“It’s not lame at all.” You smile. “It’s difficult for you to connect with new people so this is really nice to hear.”

“Yeah. The BAU has been really cool. I even got a desk and everything,” you admit fondly.

“Good. You’re integrating well.” She scribbles more notes down. “Any issues come up with your past?”

You think back to a few gaffs with Prentiss, but it works out now that she has clearance. “I did let it slip that Rebecca bailed me out of the AWOL situation without specifics. Brian doesn’t know …” you say warily.

Nina chuckles. “Not the first time you’ve told me this, and he doesn’t have to know now. He gave the section chief some leeway in your background. So, this shouldn’t be a problem.” She looks up at you. “Does she know anything else?”

“That I’m a spy. She was one, too.”

“Common ground is nice. Anything else?” She senses you’re hiding something and pushes gently.

You look away with your tongue firmly pressing against the back of your teeth. Your knee starts bouncing frantically. Nina knows the signs of when you are delving deep into your childhood trauma.

“I …” You clear your throat and rest your head against the back of the couch cushions. “The case I worked with Prentiss and Rossi. The unsub was a victim of sexual assault.” Nina is quiet, letting the silence be a sign to continue to share further if you’re comfortable. “The guy she wanted to kill was an unconfirmed rapist in the eyes of the law. But she knew he was guilty and got off on technicalities with a lot of money getting good lawyers. So, despite the fact that I wanted her to slice his throat open and watch the fucker die …” You stop there as your eyes get wet with tears and work your lips as you reach down to find the courage you need continue. “… I shared … I shared that I knew how she felt … as a survivor. Talked her down.”

“That had to be difficult.”

“Yeah, it really fucking was and I feel so guilty about it.”

She says your name softly. “Why is that?”

“Because …” you suddenly lean forward over your legs, your arms bracing you upright while balling your hands into fists. “… I wasn’t honest with her. I couldn’t fucking tell her that I killed my abuser when she never could. It’s fucking bullshit what happened to her. Me. Anyone this happens to. I fucking hate that I had to fucking lie to her so much, but I knew if I said it, she’d snap and try to kill her mark and then she’d be shot to death.”

“You didn’t want her to get hurt. Or die.”

“No!” You shake your head and growl. “She didn’t want to die. She just wanted justice.”

“You’re still trying to reconcile saving her life by lying. You’ve done that numerous times in the past. But this was different.”

“Yes!” You look up with wild eyes. “Of course it was!”

Nina sets her pen down, cradling the notepad as she looks sympathetically at you. “Did you talk to Brian about this?”

“No …”

“How about someone from the Prometheus unit?”

You sigh and lean back. “No.”

“Just me then.”

You twist your lips and sigh again. “No. Well, not exactly.”

“Can you explain further?” she says with gentle caution.

“Well, I didn’t out right say I was feeling guilty, but Emily knows that I killed my abuser. And she’s a profiler. She knows how to add all that shit up to a reasonable conclusion.” You hold your hands up in defeat. “She’s not stupid.”

“You don’t share these things so easily. Or at all.” Her blue eyes are scrutinizing you and you feel exposed. “What’s changed?”

You nervously lick your lips before biting the lower half from spilling how your heart has developed a rather large soft spot for the section chief. After a few beats of uncomfortable silence on your part, not Nina’s, she sits back up and accepts the non-answer. You know she has suspicions. “You don’t have to tell me. But it would be a good idea to revisit this at our next session since you’re going to be with these people for another …” She flips through her notes. “Five months?”

You nod in confirmation.

“Good. Now … let’s shift gears with how you’re handling the Sicarius case.”

Non Boss Chat Created at 1258

Penelope Garcia invited JJ and Tara Lewis to the chat.

Penelope Garica changed their username to Queen Penelope.

Queen Penelope sent at 1301: GUYS EMILY FLAKED OUT ON ASKING WHITLOCK OUT!!!

JJ joins the chat.

JJ sent 1325: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHEN?!

Queen Penelope sent 1325: Yesterday. She was all set to do it but then just came back and said she changed her mind.

Queen Penelope sent 1326: I want to know WHY

Queen Penelope changed JJ username to Cheeto Mom.

Cheeto Mom sent 1327: Spill. What exactly happened???

Cheeto Mom sent 1327: And WTF Pen. Really? Cheeto Mom?

Queen Penelope sent 1327: Yes! You are a mom and like Cheetos! So duh, Cheeto Mom!

Tara Lewis joins the chat.

Cheeto Mom sent 1328: Why can’t I be a queen like you?

Queen Penelope changed Cheeto Mom username to Queen Cheeto Mom.

Queen Penelope sent 1329: Better?

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1331: Very

Tara Lewis sent 1331: What the hell did I just walk in on?

Queen Penelope changes Tara Lewis username to Bisexual Goddess.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1332: Emily was going to ask Whitlock out and didn’t!

Bisexual Goddess sent 1332: WHAT

Bisexual Goddess sent 1332: You are all not playing with me right? Also, I approve of the name change.

Queen Penelope sent 1333: We are not! And Yay!

Queen Penelope sent 1333: Our Emily really likes her but I don’t know why she doesn’t want to now.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1335: I repeat SPILL.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1335: WHAT HAPPENED???

Queen Penelope sent 1340: OK. We were at Quantico yesterday to deal with Spiderboy. When cutie left the lair I asked Emily about the whole into her thing. Cuz HELLO Emily is so loving the attention she was getting from her at Fireside. Emily denied I confirmed and after an amazing pep talk by yours truly she got up to go ask her out. Then when she came back she was all sad and that made me sad and when I asked why she was sad she just said she changed her mind. And when I pressed further, she told me to drop it rather angrily 😭

Bisexual Goddess sent 1350: That’s weird. Even for Emily. Did she say anything about why she changed her mind. Did she even talk to Whitlock?

Queen Penelope sent 1353: No. She didn’t. I got that out of her but nothing else.

Queen Penelope sent 1354: OOOOOOO maybe we can get Rebecca in on this to help!

Bisexual Goddess sent 1355: HELL NO! Were you NOT there on Friday when I said she hates people meddling in her love life? Need to let these two sort it out. Least we know our girl didn’t fuck things up with her mouth.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1401: Buuuuuuut … we can at least find out wtf happened with Emily.

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1402: I’ll talk to Emily and see what happened.

Queen Penelope sent 1403: WHEN

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1405: At soccer right now.

Bisexual Goddess sent 1406: They winning?

Queen Penelope sent 1406: Is Michael scoring all the goals?

Queen Cheeto Mom sent 1415: Yes and Yes 😊 One time at the wrong goal post LOL

User45125: Same shit on my end. Life. Will life get in the way with you being around?

FlamePit23: I’m not a psychic. But the plan is to be more active. Bunch of idiots on this board need a proper education and happy to enroll them in how to not blow yourself up and die and instead find the rush of fire to cover up all those lies.

User45125: All the lies of the world.

FlamePit23: And humanity.

User45125: Still the same old prophetic sounding girl I know. Good. Had any fun lately?

FlamePit23: Minor annoyances. Don’t want to go too big just yet until I’m ready for the next masterpiece.

User45125: Maybe I can help with that.

FlamePit23: That right? Do tell.

“Haven’t heard from him since,” you explain to Emily in her office. You wanted to make sure to brief her in full then just the quick update by text last night on your personal phone. Emily had turned one of the computer screens so the two of you could view the messages on either side of her desk.

“We need to tread carefully with this.” Emily leans back while running the fingers of one hand over the palm of the other. “After Green, he might sense another mole.”

You nod. “Agreed. I’m optimistic he sees me as the real user. Confirms the user is female like I anticipated, but until we know how he wants to help; we’re in a holding pattern until he explains further.”

“I’ll get Garcia on requisitioning burner phones for your use. If this continues, he’ll want to reach out and talk to you. Someone like this FlamePit23 will want to remain off the grid.”

“Makes sense. We’ll have to see how Pen’s doing with the digital footprints.”

“And you not having one will work in our favor. Soon as he sees your face, he’ll go snooping.” She looks at you and then nods. “Finally, your mysterious past works in our favor.”

You chuckle. “I thought my mysterious past was already working in our favor when I showed up at your door like the CIA leprechaun.”

Emily’s reaction is one sculpted brow raising.

“Uh …” You bring your arms up in a circle. “Stipend. Pot of gold.”

She remains unimpressed.

You lower your arms in a huff. “I didn’t wanna say I was your sugar mama again but …”

“Whitlock!” She growls and throws a pen sideways at you. “That’s not funny!”

You bring your hands up to deflect the pen that ricochets off your palm and to the floor. “Why I said pot of gold!”

“Just … go.” She waves you away. “Out! Go talk to Garcia and get your cover sorted.”

You pivot onto your feet in a flourish that has you standing at attention in the next second. You salute playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” And then before Emily had a chance to throw the piece of paper she was balling up; you make a swift exit.

Emily still chucks it after you, watching it arc in the air before it pitifully hits the floor at the threshold of her office door then rolls to a stop. Her face deeply sets into a frown as she is left wondering why you must remain so fucking adorable. It didn’t make this easier – stepping away because you clearly had no interest in her. Only this Nina that Brian set you up with. And fuck, Emily had been so sure Penelope was right in convincing her to go after you because she had just overheard how you were embarrassed singing in front of her and confirming that she had clearance. It made her feel nervous and excited all at once and it wasn’t a mixture of emotions she would have thought possible to feel for another woman again.

“Hey, Em.” JJ pokes her head through the doorway and looks down at the ball of paper. “Uh, you busy?”

“No, JJ. Come on in.”

She reaches down to pick up the paper. “You sure?” JJ shakes the wad and throws it back to Emily as she stands up to close the door.

Emily catches it with a flinch. “Yes. Why?”

“Whitlock told us a tale of woe of you trying to papercut her to death,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.

“As usual, that woman likes to exaggerate.” She sets the paper aside with more force than intended. “What can I do for you, JJ?”

“Well, I was curious about something.” She doesn’t elaborate further as she sits across from Emily.

Emily’s danger sense starts to go off, and her brown eyes narrow suspiciously. “About what exactly?”

That accusing tone makes JJ sit up straighter and grins knowingly. “About the woman you tried to hit that with when you should be hitting on her.”

“God damn it, Penelope …” Emily complains, lowering her head over the desk as she grips the roots of grey hair with frustration. She should’ve known Penelope would have said something even though she warned her not to. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Tara.” Something inaudible was heard and JJ leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“I said shoot me.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, even for you Emily.” JJ tightens her lips at seeing her friend so wound up. “I’m just here to understand what happened.”

“You’re here to spy on me and report back.”

“Emily, look …” She stops, disappointed that Emily hasn’t looked up yet. “Hey, I rather I wasn’t talking to your head.

JJ watches as Emily’s shoulders dramatically rise and fall before she looks up and lets her hands fall against the desk. “She had a date.”

That made JJ jerk back in confusion. “Whitlock?” Emily nods. “So, you didn’t ask her out because she had a date? Suppose that doesn’t surprise me. Doesn’t take much for you to run away.”

Emily pushes herself up with an elbow and leans back. “Gee. Thanks, JJ.”

“It’s true! You suck at dating.” Her face drops with gentle sincerity. “And you suck at noticing when people have the hots for you.” She dramatically points to herself with two thumbs. “Case in point.”

She laughs morosely. “Fair. But keep in mind we were in two different places mentally and emotionally when that was happening.”

The back-and-forth affection that went beyond friendship just never connected at the right time for JJ and Emily. They long made peace with that fact years ago that it wasn’t meant to be. JJ moved on with Will and it really saddened her that Emily hadn’t found that special someone yet – which was by design or her friend’s awkwardness, the jury was still out. She knew that Emily wanted all of those things – a partner she could trust and confide in and start a long-term relationship with that meant moving in together and perhaps even marriage. The woman across from her kept self-sabotaging any chance of that from blossoming so far.

“And it doesn’t matter,” Emily states again.

“You need glasses because that girl was all over you on Friday with hands and eyes. Sometimes, those eyes of hers actually found yours when she wasn’t staring at your tits,” JJ teases.

“Then why was she so apologetic about this Nina?” she counters in anger, but it made her feel better that you were staring at her boobs.

“Wow.” JJ is shocked. “You really like her.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She brought her hand up to purposefully cut JJ off. “I mean it. I made my decision, and I stand by it. And I swear that the three of you need to stay out of it. I’m not going after Whitlock since she’s already maybe probably has someone.”

“Bu-“

“I mean it, JJ.” She glares hard at her. “And I don’t want to have this conversation again with any of you. And I fucking swear if Whitlock hears about this …”

“Hey, Em. Come on. We wouldn’t do anything like that to embarrass you. Or her. That’s crossing a line none of us would do.”

Emily seems to be appeased and nods curtly. “Good.”

“But …”

She groans in annoyance but allows JJ to continue.

“… I think it says a lot that you were going to take a chance on her. But making a decision on a partially overheard conversation doesn’t do your profiling skills justice.”

“What are you on about?” she asks, incredulously.

“All I’m saying, Em, is that you are thinking with your emotions and not that beautiful brain of yours. Since when do us profilers make a case based on a half overheard conversation and jump to only one outcome?” Emily looks to JJ as the blonde profiler nods at seeing her friend’s mind start to work. “You need more info.”

That conversation never had a chance to happen, and Emily was left ruminating on JJ’s advice when she sent the team out on a case in Hayden, ID four days later. The city was close to the Washington State border and a twenty-minute drive from Coeur d’Alene, ID. A body of an adult female had been found dumped in the woods with strangulation marks, broken fingers, burn marks, and shot twice in the chest. The victimology matched similar murders near Spokane and local authorities needed help finding the unsub before more victims appeared.

Emily had Rossi stay behind to keep working on Green to see if he would cooperate, which was turning into a colder lead by the day. They were trying hard to keep him out of prison and convince him that his cooperation would benefit all parties involved in capturing Sicarius. He keeps refusing to assist and the cognitive interview. The BAU was sympathetic to his plight, but Green has been warned that FBI benevolence can last for so long, especially since they have another way to contact Sicarius. So far, he doesn’t either care or believe them.

Back in Idaho, the four of you are split up to maximize resources and gather information. Alvez and Lewis went to Spokane, leaving you and JJ to work with the sheriff’s department, interview witnesses, family and friends, and examine the crime scene. You check in with your counterparts to compare notes several times a day to work the profile in two cities and update Prentiss and Garcia to narrow the search, fine tune the data.

Finally, you struck gold with Tommy Ferguson, a fifty-one-year-old local trucker who was physically abused by his alcoholic father. He had also been forced to watch his father beat and rape his mother repeatedly as punishment for being a bad child. When CPS* got involved, Tommy was living in Washington state and removed him from the home and placed in foster care. He passed around from home to home until he was of age. With this, he had a long list of anti-social traits that therapists tried to work through, but he often got into fights and petty thefts, causing small stints in jail. That is where he met Andrew Loyd as his cellmate, who was charged with involuntary manslaughter on his second DUI. The two of them met up three years ago after Loyd finished his stint in at the Idaho State Corrections, and soon the two spiraled into drugs, alcohol and violent tendencies against several women in the beginning when reunited. Loyd was the dominant in the relationship and kept escalating the partnership until they were torturing and murdering their victims.

This is why you were now outside a warehouse that was being rented by Ferguson with the reunited BAU and the local SWAT team. The contract had an agreement to store his cab, equipment, and trailers that he couldn’t store at his mobile home since there wasn’t enough room on the lot. It was also a potentially easy location to bring their victims to and from under the cover of Ferguson’s job. That was the running theory.

You convinced local police to keep Ferguson and Loyd off media outlets and take them by surprise as it was unknown if they had a current victim, and they were conveniently scarce. There were no missing people filed that fit their profile but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t inside the building. You couldn’t confirm and you didn’t want to escalate the timeframe of their kill and make a run for it. There were officers watching Ferguson’s trailer since he became a suspect but there was no recent sign of him. Even neighbors hadn’t seen him or Loyd lately. Loyd had no address and lived off the grid, presumably with Ferguson. That made the warehouse the most likely location for the pair.

The plan is simple. Enter quietly and take them by surprise once confirmed by plain clothes officers that they had visuals on the unsubs. The BAU and SWAT surrounded the area under the cover of Amazon and UPS trucks throughout the day setting up the operation. The vehicles would back up against the driveways and have officers secretly enter the buildings through the garages on either side of the targeted building, already approved by the owners of those properties. They would operate business as usual while feds and officers were staging the op in a locked back room. This was to keep the suspects contained in the area, minimize damage to the surrounding areas and loss of life, and hopefully protect any captured victims.

It was just after 10am when Luke and Tara took the lead heading behind the building while you and JJ had the front. Gun drawn, you nod to JJ and test the doorknob and true to the lifestyle in this area of Idaho, the door was unlocked while someone was onsite. You quietly continue to turn it and push the door open ajar. Silence greets you and nothing catches your visual interest. You signal to the team on how to split up and cover ground. JJ would be with you.

You and JJ broke off left and soon the beloved voice of Garcia was in your ear.

“Luke was useful and found an electrical box by his location. They missed it at first since it was painted over to look like part of the building.”

Then Prentiss spoke up. “It appears to be done on purpose. These guys are smart so be careful.”

“And it means I have access to the video feed. I will be your eyes my Padawans.”

You and JJ signal all clears and continue to move deeper into the warehouse. You are about to turn into the next room when Garcia shouts. “STOP! Do not go in there! Both of them are in the conference room with all sorts of nasty things that can kill you.”

You and JJ exchange looks, and you point to yourself, then her, and then the door signaling how you can take them by surprise. What you didn’t know is that Prentiss and Garcia can see you and JJ as well on the live feed by a camera in your area.

“Stand down. There’s no victim in there. Wait for further back up,” Prentiss orders.

“Uh … something spooked them. They’re grabbing things, Emily.” Penelope’s worried voice hits the adrenaline you have into overdrive.

“God damn SWAT moved too close to the windows.” Yeah, Prentiss was pissed. So are you.

You hear the erratic sounds of metal being moved around and a clip of ammo clicking into place. There were also careless footfalls that were smacking into furniture. With only seconds to think this through you look to JJ and signal for her to back up and they should take them as they leave. She nods in agreement as you holster your gun.

“What the hell are you doing, Whitlock? Pull your firearm out.” You ignore Emily because you know what you were doing. “I know you can hear me. Pull out your weapon!”

You both brace yourselves against the walls as you hear steps getting closer, the handle starts to shake, and soon the door swung open towards the inside. Your focus was on the first one that came through the door, and it was the lanky, greasy brown-haired Loyd. You grab his gun arm viciously and spin him around so his back slams up against the wall so hard that his baseball cap gets knocked off and falls to the ground. With you in control of where the gun is pointed, you and JJ remain safe.

The events happened so fast that Ferguson didn’t know what to make of it and when he passed through the doorway, his attention was with the struggle his partner was having with you. All it took was a well place crack of her gun handle on Ferguson’s shoulder to force him to drop his weapon. She kicks it out of reach and grabs him by the shirt collar. “FBI! Don’t move!” and places the barrel of the gun against his head for emphasis.

You put immediate pressure on the outside of Loyd’s arm against his radial nerve that causes him to cry out in excruciating pain that forces him to drop the weapon. You then twist his arm while kicking the gun far away from both men, forcing him to come off the wall and onto his knees. From there, it was easy to cuff him.

You and JJ had fun ping ponging announcing their Miranda rights as you both walked them through the warehouse.

Penelope warily looks up at Emily as the chatter from Luke and Tara comes through congratulating you and JJ on a nice takedown of the unsubs without being hurt. She saw Emily face set squarely, nostrils flaring with each inhalation of breath. The palms of her hands remained flat on Penelope’s desk, but Emily’s fingers were jagged at each joint. She was pissed.

She tries to diffuse the tension by clapping her hands. “Yay! Team Padawan got the bad guys!”

Emily raises a brow and tilts her head before pushing herself up to stand fully. “Yes, they did. Approximately how long until they’re back.”

“Uh …” She puts her arms down to do some calculations. “Probably seven to nine hours depending how quickly they hand the case off to local PD.”

“Let me know when they land.” She orders before turning to leave, not acknowledging Penelope with even a look.

When the door closes, Penelope mouths a ‘wow’ and looks at you on the video feed. “Oh, my beloved Whitlock. Mom’s pissed at you.”

Seven hours later, the BAU was back at Quantico and exhausted. You were all looking forward to finalizing the checkout procedure and heading home.

JJ is on her phone texting back and forth with Will as she heads to pick up her things at her desk. Luke yawns as he swings his to go bag around in hand and lets go, watching it land on his chair. He pumps his fist in victory. “Yes!”

“Nice form, Alvez. I’m impressed.” Tara looks at you. “Your turn.”

“Yeah, no. Knowing my luck, I’ll miss and knock everything off my desk.” You set your bag down on top of your desk and log into your computer to check out when Emily’s voice cuts through the lighthearted camaraderie.

“Whitlock. My office now.”

You look up in time to see an indignant cross armed Prentiss make brief eye contact with you before making an about face back inside her office. You didn’t even have a chance to appear confused before her, but your team saw it.

“What did you do?” Luke asks from across the bullpen.

“I … honestly have no idea,” you admit lamely and look to Tara and JJ. “You have any insights?”

Of course, the two of them wonder if this is about Emily’s feelings towards you and she was pretending to be upset to throw them off the trail.

Tara shrugs helplessly and JJ shakes her head no.

“Big help you two are.” You lock your station and start heading up to Emily’s office. “Better not keep her waiting.”

Once you passed by and were at a safe distance, Tara locks eyes with JJ and mouths, ‘Is this about your talk with Emily?’

JJ shrugs and mouths back, ‘No idea.’

Luke was too busy finishing up to notice the exchange.

“Hey …” you say, poking your head in and study Emily behind her desk not looking at you but at a file. She was making notes with a pen. You got a shiver down your spine and have a sense of déjà vu. “Wanted to see me?”

“Close the door.” She said it without looking up making you frown, but you did it. When it clicks close, she speaks again in that clip tone. “Have a seat.”

She still wasn’t looking at you and you almost wanted to take a seat on the couch to fuck with her but even you knew when to behave. It wasn’t often, but this was one of those times. So, you take a seat, rest a shoe on the opposite knee and interlock your fingers together on your stomach.

You begin the opening salvo with a, “What’s up chief?” since you sense a fight.

Emily makes a production in capping the pen before setting it down. It was then she looks.up at you with formidable brown orbs. “You may have gotten away with a lot of interpretations of orders in the CIA, but as you’re a member of the BAU, mine are not a suggestion.”

“Wait,” You pull your fingers free to lift a hand up to point at Emily. “This is about me putting my gun away?”

“Yes, this is about that. You never holster a weapon when confronting suspects,” she snaps back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I am not.” She points the pen accusingly at you. “You went against protocol and my order. You could’ve gotten yourself and JJ killed.”

“But based on what I was aware of, I made the better call. Which ended in no shots fired and the suspects in custody.”

She looks at you with indignation and sits up straight in the chair. “But there is no way you could have predicted that. You got lucky.”

“No, what’s lucky is the call I made because I was concerned that if they saw us in their peripherals, they’d start shooting. By taking one by surprise, it knocked the other off their game and they became easy pickings for me and JJ to apprehend. It didn’t even take a minute,” you explain calmly. You didn’t want to feed into Prentiss’ exertion of authority. Even if the two of you were able to open up to one another and find common ground, you felt that your friendship with her was hanging on a precarious thread. Ever since drunk karaoke in her car, Emily felt more distant this week. Nothing could prove this was true besides the gnawing feeling in your gut.

Emily crosses her arms across her chest defensively. “You didn’t wait to hear what my next orders were going to be because you ignored me. You do not ignore your superior in the field, Whitlock.”

“Okay, then. Enlighten me oh great and all-knowing Prentiss on how the situation would have went down with your orders.” You motion to her with both arms extending with the cocky condescending tone you were known for. Yeah, the whole being nice thing just went out the window after that.

“You and JJ would have backed off, put enough distance between you and the door to provide enough opportunity to take them off guard. You’d have them in your sights with weapons trained on them, giving you both the upper hand.”

“Loyd is the issue with that.” She starts to open her mouth to argue but you continue. “I’m serious. The guy got off on violence and would have opened fire. Instead of exchanging fire with no known outcome on casualties, we go two suspects alive and me and JJ unharmed.”

Emily knew you were right, but she was edging towards a release and fighting with you for going against her order was all she had right now. It was completely irrational, and she knew it, but her mouth wouldn’t stop. “Regardless you blatantly ignored me in the field. That is unacceptable. How am I to trust you won’t do this again?”

That raises the hackles on your neck. Your face twists in contempt as she doesn’t back down with her haughty air of authority. “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! After everything I told you, after everything we shared, you don’t fucking trust me?”

Your eyes were seething, which matches the intensity of Emily’s anger. But there was a flicker of awareness that briefly peaked through a crack in her defense.

Your phone rings and you reach for it resting in your back pocket. “May the ladyship excuse me?” You ask with a biting tone. “I have to check who this is. Or are ya gonna order me to ignore it?”

“Don’t be a child.” She snaps.

“Then stop acting like I personally offended you because I made the better call.” You could feel your lips curl into a snarl. You were offended that Emily felt that your relationship had to fall back a few steps because her ego got bruised. You thought Emily was better than the usual agents turned bureaucrats. Emily had strong roots in the work. She should be able to understand a different call in the middle of an operation that you felt was right, not because you wanted to undermine her authority. You pegged her wrong, and it saddens you.

“Ah fuck.” You finally take note of who was calling and hit accept before it went to voicemail. “I need to take this.”

“Brian?” she asks hesitantly.

“No, my therapist.” You watched as Emily’s face went from hot to baffled within seconds. “What? Never had mandated therapy before?” you accuse, because of course Emily had it with all the shit she’s been through and switch your attention to the caller. “Kinda late for you. Everything alright?”

“Well, is everything alright with you?”

“Yes, just in a meeting with my boss.”

“Emily?”

You sigh and confirm. “Yes, Emily. But back to you, why are you calling?”

“I need to reschedule Monday. I’m on the way to the airport to see my mother.”

“Oh shit. Is she okay?”

“She had a fall, and I need to get eyes on her.”

You are amazed at how Nina could sound so sterile over the phone about personal matters. You know why, because you’re her patient, and it makes sense to keep things separated as much as possible. But there are times, like this, when she offers a glimpse into her life.

“I’m sorry to hear that and yeah, of course we can reschedule. I hope she’s gonna be okay.” You mean every word. You always find people who have any relationship with their mothers that are positive, something to be grateful for. You sure as hell didn’t have that.

“I appreciate that. Talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, Nina. Be safe.”

Emily’s eyes widen in horror and JJ’s words come back to haunt her. She made a terrible assumption and clearly didn’t have all the information because Nina was your therapist. And your therapist knew about her. So, in some way, you talked about her in your sessions. Or was it just a footnote in your file that Nina knew? Either way….

Fuck!

Emily recovers quickly and smooths out her features as you end the call. “Is Nina alright?”

You found it strange that Emily seemingly cared about this after being a bitch. “She is. It’s her mom.”

“Oh.” She licks her lips and decides not to press further. Your curt responses were not open ended. You were closing up and rightfully so. Damn her assumptions and taking the call you made in the field personally. This should have been a collaborated conversation about field ops and chain of command. A conversation you had hinted happened often and got you into trouble. Why should it be different at the BAU? She offers neutral sympathy. “I’m … sorry to hear that.”

You squint trying to read Emily and come up confused. “Yeah. Anyway …” you quirk a brow. “Shall we revisit the child comment?”

“No. I think we’re done here.” Her tone is not as sharp but holds finality.

“Fantastic.” You rise and start to leave, but before you do, you take one last look at Prentiss and give her a Han Solo salute. “Have a lovely weekend your worshipfulness. See ya Monday.”

Emily watches you go but unlike the last time the two of you argued, you didn’t slam the door closed, and Emily didn’t reach for the pack of cigarettes in the desk drawer. Instead, she rests her forehead against the desk and pounds a fist atop it. “Fucking hell.”

*Child Protective Services

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago

Note

cw: period/menstruation, scat and urine talk but not very explicit.

🔴🔴🔴

AITA for saying periods are gross?

Let me preface this by saying that I am biologically a woman and do get periods. Ages don't really matter but everyone in the story is an adult.

Basically I was talking with another girl friend of mine and the topic of periods and public bathrooms came up where I said something like "Ugh, used pads are so gross, I wish women at my office would wrap theirs in toilet paper before throwing them out so I don't have to see them when I go to throw mine out too." Which to me felt completely normal? I always wrap my pad with a piece of tp so it doesn't accidentally unwrap and I don't see why others at my office don't do that, though it doesn't really bother me enough to confront them about it, it's just a small annoyance that I thought I could share with a friend.

But then my friend started arguing with me, saying I shouldn't be calling periods gross? and that apparently it's a misogynistic thing to do?? Which to me felt completely insane because like... periods ARE gross? Like it's literally bloody chunks exiting your body, idk how else you could describe it.

But she still tried to explain to me how it's not gross and is just a normal, natural biological process, and women shouldn't be shamed for it, but like... so is shitting and pissing? Shitting and pissing are both natural and biological and happen to EVERYONE but it's still gross non the less (unless you're into that I guess). And just to clarify: I wasn't trying to shame my coworkers for HAVING periods, just like I wouldn't try to shame them for taking a piss or a dump, that would be dumb. I was just specifically complaining about them not cleaning up after themselves properly, the same way I would complain if I they didn't flush or something.

Lastly when my friend realized I wasn't being convinced she just huffed and said "Fine, I hope you have a nice life being grossed out by your own body." which is like... ?????????? Why would I be grossed out by my own body? Like, human bodies do a lot of gross stuff but that doesn't mean I'm grossed out by MY body. I don't know if this is uncommon or not but I don't feel grossed out when looking at my own period blood, or shit or most other stuff that comes out of MY body, but I still do get grossed out when I see other's people's stuff, which is why I was complaining in the first place. But she just didn't respond after that and the conversation kinda moved on.

Idk, I feel like I'm either super mega dumb and just don't get why what I said was wrong or she's just plain incorrect but that's why I'm asking for a third opinion here.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

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lipglossanon · 2 years ago

Text

The Soul’s Desire

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

Alcoholic/Sweet Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader For the first half: @neverland-navi asked for an angsty moment w/stepdad Leon where he hosts dinner and watches reader get hit on (I hope you like it!)

For the second half: anon requested camping sex with stepdad Leon (no specifics so I hope I met expectations 🤭)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, daddy kink, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, outdoor/public sexual situations

Not proofread ✍️ sorry if the ending is sudden, I made myself stop writing or this was going to get too crazy lmao

Title from Leto’s Headache by Chevelle

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

For some reason, your stepdad is hosting all of his coworkers for dinner. When asked, he mumbled something about drawing the short straw at the office so you just guess it’s out of his hands at this point.

You volunteer to help him cook a simple pasta dinner with fresh homemade bread (something you’re quite proud of) that Leon pairs with a nice wine. He helps you out in the kitchen where you tease and poke him until he finally cracks a smile, joining in your conversation and laughter.

Once everything’s setup the way he likes, he kisses you, slow and sweet, thanking you for your help.

He tries to usher you off to your room, “You don’t have to hang out with us old men.”

You crowd into his personal space and wrap your arms around the nape of his neck, “But I like hanging out with you.”

He smiles softly down at you, rubbing a thumb underneath your eye, “I know, but I just don’t know how much you’re gonna enjoy us talking shop, honey.”

You shiver and push against him more, “I think it’s really hot to hear you talk about your job.”

His nostrils flare but he keeps his touch soft, “You do, huh?”

You hum and nod, eyes going a little hazy as you look at his mouth, “Mmmhmm.”

He kisses you roughly, hands going down to grab your ass to lift you up on the kitchen counter.

“Dad,” you gasp when he pulls back to trail kisses across your jaw.

“So good for me,” he groans, biting a mark into your neck.

The doorbell rings pulling Leon away from you. You pout and wind your fingers into his dress shirt.

“Don’t go yet,” you kiss his adam’s apple making him groan.

“I’ve got to,” he kisses you again, gentle and sweet.

He finally pulls away from you, eyes running down your body and back up, “If you wanna join us, you can, but please change.”

You gaze down at yourself, hard nipples showing through your thin shirt. Biting your lip, you tug the hem as the doorbell rings again.

“Go on to your room sweetheart,” Leon helps you down from the counter and pats your butt, “you can help me set the table when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you smile at him, pressing up in your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before running off to your room, wanting to change quickly.

Seeing that Leon was dressed in his usual work attire of pressed slacks and a button down, you throw on a cute top and skirt. Double checking the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too scandalous and nodding to yourself once it seems guest appropriate, you leave your bedroom.

When you walk past the dining room, you see a few other men sitting at the table already, chatting with each other. You feel butterflies at having strangers in your home, but since these people work with Leon you try not to let your nerves get to you.

Leon smiles at you when you enter the kitchen.

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you duck your head, feeling shy, missing the heated gaze Leon rakes down your body.

“Can you grab the silverware while I get the plates?”

You move over to where he’s standing and grab the silverware and napkins, following after him as he heads out and into the dining room.

“Hello, hello. What do we have here?”

“Is this the elusive daughter, Leon?”

“You never said how grown up she is!”

The men talk over one another as you follow behind Leon and set the forks and knives down at each place setting. You give a shy smile when Leon introduces you to everyone; he has a laid back grin but you can see the tightness around his eyes as you walk around the table.

Leon guides you back out of the dining room with a hand placed firmly on your back. He seems irritated as you both gather the dinner to place on the table, but you don’t get a chance to question him as he ducks out to grab a whiskey bottle from his home office.

You wait until he has glasses to go with it and then you both enter the dining room again; Leon hands out the glasses then passes the whiskey around, pouring a healthy glass full for himself, while you place the pasta and bread down in the center of the table. Once everyone’s situated, the dinner passes fairly smoothly.

You listen in to the conversation, but don’t quite know what they’re talking about only picking up things here and there from Leon complaining about work. The whiskey bottle is nearly empty now and the talk is also following suite.

“And Leon, how’re you not gonna let us know what a beautiful girl you got here all to yourself?”

You look wide eyed to your stepdad and see the corner of his eye tic as he smiles at the man, “Ah, she’s a homebody, what can I say?”

“Definitely got the body for it!” another man chortles and elbows the guy next to him as they all chuckle.

Leon gives you an apologetic smile as he claps the man on the back, “C’mon now, we’re in polite company.”

“We’re just yanking your chain,” the man grins, eyes drifting to the other end of the table where you’re sitting.

You’re thankful that Leon asked you to change as several pairs of eyes unsubtly check you out. Dropping your gaze, you pick at the food on your plate.

“Say, sweetheart, can I get a refill?”

You look up at Leon and he nods.

“No problem, sir.”

“Oh ho ho, where’d you get her Leon?” the man hands you his glass with a salacious smile, “need to find me one if you don’t wanna give’er up?”

Leon laughs along with the men as you leave, but you can tell it’s forced. You’re not gone too long, and when you come back in the room the men are all laughing at some joke but quickly quiet down to shoot appreciative looks your way.

“Thank you, dear,” the man sets his glass down and reaches out to run his hand down your arm, “you’re dad was telling us that you’re home so much, you aren’t dating anyone.”

You nod, “Yeah, I’m not really—“

“Now hold on a minute,” the coworker across from you speaks up, “who said you get to ask her out?”

“Me? Why I’m just—“

“And plus, she needs someone younger,” the coworker smirks over at you, “what’d ya say honey? I can take you out this weekend?”

You laugh nervously and take a step away from the table, “Thank you, but—“

“Now you two better leave it before Leon loses his cool,” a third man chimes in with a laugh drawing everyone’s attention to Leon.

He’s waving them off with a short laugh, “I know how these guys are. Say, why don’t we get another bottle going before calling it a night?”

All the men agree and Leon nods his head to the door, “Go grab us one, sweetheart.”

You give him a relieved smile as you leave the table, heading to his office to grab another bottle. As you pick it up, a pair of arms wraps around your waist. You jump, breathing in a quick breath and with it Leon’s cologne making you sag against him.

“M so sorry baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, “I didn’t think they’d be this bad.”

“S’okay,” you whisper, turning in his arms the whiskey bottle tucked between you, “they’re just drunk and dumb.”

“What does that make me?” he presses his lips to yours, whiskey coated tongue filling your mouth as you whimper.

“Say, baby,” he pulls back to take the bottle and set it aside, “what does that make me, hmmm?”

He presses you against the wall and kisses you deeper, hands coming up to lace your fingers together and press them to the wall on either side of your head.

“Just some dumb drunk trying to get my dick wet?” he groans into your mouth, thrusting his tongue past your lips over and over until spit drips down your chin.

You mewl and rock your hips into his, no room to answer with his tongue fucking into your mouth aggressively. Suddenly, the space in front of you is empty as Leon steps back.

“Daddy,” you whine, lips wet with spit, “why’d you stop?”

“Got to, honey,” he runs his hands through his hair, frustration etched in his body language, “I’d love to take you apart right now, but I have to worry about my coworkers.”

You sigh and step forward, wrapping your hands around Leon’s neck so you can tease the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“You’re such a good, dad,” you kiss his jaw as he groans, “I’m gonna go to bed, if you don’t need me? Kinda tired of being hit on.”

Leon chuckles at that and kisses your cheek, “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll try not to keep them too late.”

You both leave his office and you watch as he slips back into the dining room, loud laughter and conversation flowing out before the door snicks shut. You make your way into your room and change into a faded tee and thin shorts before tiptoeing over into Leon’s bedroom. Once inside, you shut the door and make your way to the bed.

Climbing under the covers, you hum at the cool sheets touching your skin and just the smell of Leon enveloping your senses. Your clit thrums with want, but you push that aside in order to relax in bed. Hours later, you faintly hear the door open and shut before the sound of feet shuffle along the carpet.

“Fuck,” Leon whispers loudly when he bumps into his dresser to set his watch on the surface.

You can hear the shuffle of clothing as he undresses and then the bed dips with his weight.

“Oh, what a lovely s’prise,” he mumbles, hot palm dragging down your uncovered thigh, “mmm pretty baby, so sweet.”

You blearily open your eyes, sleep trying to pull you down again, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, shifting until he can use both hands to rub across your body, pet your sides, squeeze your breasts, “yeah, baby, ‘m here. My pretty girl, s’all mine huh?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum.

Eye fluttering shut with a sigh, you preen under his attention, letting him grope and squeeze whatever he can reach until you’re mewling with want.

“Yeah you’re all mine,” he growls, hands squeezing your ass roughly, “god, hated that they fucking stared at you, hit on you. You’re my sweet baby girl.”

“Leon,” you whine, hands going to his hair to tug him into a kiss, “didn’t want any of them.”

“No?”

You can taste the whiskey he’s been drinking all night making your pussy drip slick in your panties as you suck on his tongue.

“Mmm ‘m so lucky,” he pants, kissing you messily, “luckiest daddy in the world to have such a sweet daughter.”

You moan and tug his hair, “You’re the best daddy. Want you in my pussy pretty please.”

He makes a pained groan and rolls you on top of him, “Need me to fill you up?”

“Uh huh,” you rock down on the bulge underneath your cunt, “need it so bad.”

“Baby,” he groans as you keep grinding against his half hard cock, “don’t know if I, fuck— I’ve been drinking a lot, don’t know if I can cum for awhile.”

You whimper and dig your nails in his pecs, “Daddy, I still want your cock. Want you to stretch out my little pussy.”

“God,” his head falls back onto the bed with a groan, “me too, fuck, okay c’mon honey put it in. I wanna watch.”

You quickly pull off your shirt, helping Leon do the same with a giggle, before reaching down and tugging his underwear completely off. Moaning, you stroke his cock watching as it stiffens in your hand. You raise up and straddle his waist.

You go to pull your panties off and he stops you, “Leave’em on.”

Whining, you pull them to the side and let his fat tip smack against your pussy lips, slick dripping down his dick.

“C’mon be a good girl for me and put it in,” he rubs his hands down your thighs.

“Dad,” you mewl, pushing the head into your dripping hole and slowly ease yourself down his thick cock.

You both watch as inch by inch, your pussy greedily sucks his cock into your wet heat. Once he bottoms out and you can sit on his lap, you moan at feeling so full, so spread open.

“Daddy,” you scratch your nails at his twitching abs, “s’full.”

“I know,” he soothes, palms rubbing across the bulge in your lower belly, “m so deep in that little pussy huh pretty girl.”

You rock forward with a keening moan, grinding his leaking tip against your cervix making sparks of pleasure shoot through your cunt.

“Yeah I am,” he grunts, dark eyes watching you hungrily, “pretty cunt made to take this fat dick.”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as Leon grabs your hips and makes you grind against his cock, “dad, it’s good.”

“Good, want my girl to know what it feels like to get dicked deep in her cute little pussy,” he growls, hands squeezing your hips so hard they’ll bruise, “love filling up your tight wet cunt.”

“Daddy!” you gasp out, pussy clenching down on his cock at how he’s talking to you, “you’re being dirty.”

“Am I?” he grins teasingly, “is it getting you wet, baby? It sure feels like it. That pussy loves the way I’m talking about her. She’s squeezing me so tight.”

Your clit throbs as he keeps you grinding in place on his cock, not letting you bounce and not thrusting up into you making you a little wild for it.

“Daddy, want it, want you,” you moan.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “want daddy to rail your little cunt? Breed your cute pussy til it’s full?”

“Yes, yes yes,” you try to rock your hips but Leon’s grip keeps you stationary making your pussy walls flutter and pulse around his dick.

“Gonna have to just stay like this then,” he laughs, “I drank too much, sweet girl, gonna take a while to cum.”

You shudder, breath coming out shakily, “Daddy, I need t’cum.”

“Aww,” his hands finally move away from your hips, skin indented from his fingers, to skim up your ribs and grab your breasts, “can you cum from riding my cock, sweetheart? No touching that cute clit.”

Your hips are moving as you nod quickly, hands bracing against his chest, “Yes, yes, thank you daddy, feels so good.”

You make sure to rub his tip against your g-spot every time you roll your hips down, thighs trembling as his cock kisses your cervix with every bounce, pussy gliding down with ease. It feels like forever that you just ride Leon, swiveling your hips just right so he’s rubbing that spongy spot in your cunt that has you moaning.

“Look at my sweet girl,” he smiles widely, crows feet wrinkling at the corners, “god, love you so much, honey.”

Your hips stutter as you moan, “Love you too, daddy. Love you so much.”

His hips thrust up, meeting you halfway making you cry out.

“Think I’m ready to fuck you nice and deep,” he laughs up at you, pulling you down to roll you onto your back, cock sliding back into you, “breed this pussy like she needs.”

“Leon!” you gasp out as his dick bullies back into your cunt repeatedly.

Your pussy squelches loudly as his hips picks up speed, pistoning into your sopping wet hole, pelvis grinding down on your clit.

“Couldn’t wait,” he kisses you, still tasting of alcohol making you clench down on him, “was gonna let you cum that way, but I need you too much sweetheart.”

“Dad, please,” you scratch at his shoulders, “wanna cum.”

“I’ve got you baby,” he kisses your cheek, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub firmly at your slippery clit.

You choke out a whine and wrap your legs around his waist, hips pressing down into his thrusts. Leon groans and kisses you, tongue lapping and sucking at your own. A few more rough passes of his fingers over your sensitive bud and your pussy clamps down on his cock as you climax. He keeps softly rubbing at your clit as he fucks deeper into your pussy.

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he whispers against your lips, “gonna make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck, that’s it, milk me, help daddy cum in your hot little pussy.”

A high pitched moan leaves your throat, toes curling as Leon stretches your orgasm out until your thighs are shaking. He thrusts a few more times before burying his cock deep into your fluttering walls and spilling his hot cum. Slowly, he moves his hand away from your clit to rub your side. He kisses you softly, letting you both come down from your orgasms into the sleepy afterglow.

He pulls out of your cunt with a low groan, laying down next to you, “So good to me, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You giggle and stroke his stubbled jaw, “You’re so cute.”

Smiling, he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist, “Think you’re the cute one, baby.”

He laces your fingers together and pulls you into his chest, “Can’t believe I have work in a few hours.”

“Call in sick,” you sleepily mumble against his skin.

He laughs and rubs his hands down your back, “Mmm wish I could. Everyone else will be there even though we all got drunk tonight.”

You hum in reply, but drift off to sleep with Leon’s warm hands petting you.

Hours later, Leon’s alarm wakes you up, but he shushes you back to sleep. The next time you’re waking up it’s past eight and the sun is out. Yawning, you roll over and check your phone. You feel a pang of sympathy for Leon since he definitely went to work hung over and exhausted. You shoot him a quick text and get up to start the day.

It passes quickly for you and before long you hear the sound of keys in the door. Smiling to yourself, you get up from the couch to meet Leon in the hallway.

“Hi,” you step up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “have a good day?”

“Could’ve been better,” he murmurs, pressing you against the wall and kissing you deeply, “how was yours?”

“Could’ve been better,” you giggle as he presses kisses along your neck.

“Poor thing,” he coos.

He steps away with a sigh before going any further, looking apologetic, “I have something to ask you, and you can say no okay?”

Frowning at him, you drag out your reply, “Oookay?”

“I know it’s last minute, but someone had the bright idea to do a family retreat this weekend. Like a camping trip,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’d leave tomorrow morning and stay until Monday.”

You shrug, “I’m fine with that.”

“Are you sure, honey? It’s going to be hot and bug infested, not to mention those jackoffs from work.”

You laugh, “I’m sure, besides everyone else will be busy with their families, too right? It’ll be fun! Like a mini vacation.”

Sighing again, Leon gives you a small grin, “Yeah, maybe so.”

═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*

Leon is pulling the cooler from the trunk as you coat yourself in bug spray.

“Okay maybe the fun starts once we get the tent setup,” you concede with a small cough from using the spray.

He snorts a laugh at you, but is nice enough to not say anything. Aside from getting lost on the drive up here, almost hitting a deer, then actually hitting a hubcap in the middle of the road, and lastly seeing someone get rear ended in the lane next to you, your nerves are a little shot—and this place isn’t helping with it looking like something out of Friday the 13th.

Leon rubs your arm, “Okay?”

You smile up at him, “Yeah, just taking it in.”

A smile spreads across his face, “You’re something else. C’mon, we just follow this trail to the camp they setup. They have a small itinerary for us today. Think it’s just some kinda hike near the lake.”

“That sounds nice,” you fall into step with him as the trail is wide enough to walk side by side.

You both take in the scenery and lush foliage, breathing in the clean air of dirt and trees. Before too long, you can see people setting up tents as well as prepping several picnic tables with food.

Leon guides you over to one of the picnic tables. He introduces you to a few other people in the company as he grabs the welcome packet.

“You two can set up anywhere in the perimeter,” one woman points to the map on the front of packet, “anything outside that might land you a fine.”

“Thanks, Martha,” Leon nods, “alright, you pick us out a spot, sweetheart.”

You take the map from his hands and point to a little copse of trees, “This seems like it would be nice. Shady, ya know?”

His lips quirk up but he just nods, eyes sparkling, “Shady, huh. Lead the way then.”

You follow the rather crude map until you’re both far enough away that you can only hear bird song.

“Sure you didn’t pick this place out for anything other than shade?” Leon murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass, “seems awful far from everyone.”

You gasp and twist to face him, “Dad!”

He presses you against the rough bark of the tree behind you and kisses you, slow and deep. You drop the map on the ground to wind your hands through his hair, sighing into his languid kisses.

You tug him closer, rocking your hips up against his, kissing even more sloppily as you feel yourself getting wet.

“You feeling needy, honey?” Leon whispers hotly in your ear, fingers dipping below the leg of your shorts, “fuck, let me finger that pretty pussy.”

“Dad, please,” you whimper parting your thighs, leaning against the tree for better balance.

His fingers slip under the band of your panties and stroke across your slick pussy lips to come up and circle your clit.

“So naughty, letting me play with you like this,” he nips your earlobe, “daddy’s dirty little girl.”

You whine and part your legs further, “Please, daddy!”

“Hush,” he kisses your neck, sliding his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole, “she’s so wet for me, sweetheart. Doesn’t feel like it’s gonna take long.”

He laughs softly as his fingers easily find and rub against your g-spot as his thumb circles your slippery clit. You’re gasping and moaning, thighs shaking with the effort of keeping yourself open and on two feet.

“Daddy, daddy, g’nna cum,” you mewl, rocking down into his fingers as they start to pump in and out of your fluttering pussy walls.

“Then cum for me, let daddy make you feel good,” he kisses you, tongue licking into your mouth to swallow up your moans.

One last rubbing grind to your clit has you cumming all around his fingers, slick dripping down his wrist to land on the forest floor. He slowly pulls his hand away, licking the slick off of his fingers with a groan.

“Always taste so good.”

“Want me to suck you off?” you sway into him, legs shaky from your orgasm.

He kisses the top of your head and wipes his hand off on his pants, “We’ll save it for later, baby. Really need to put this tent up before we go on that hike.”

You sigh and nuzzle into his neck, “If you say so.”

He pets your sides for a moment before pushing you to stand up straight, “If you want, I’ll let you read out the directions and I’ll put up the tent.”

“Sounds good to me,” you giggle, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

Luckily, Leon has had some experience with camping so your little area is setup in next to no time. Which works out perfectly since someone sent their kid to fetch you two for the hike about to start.

Leon stows your sleeping bags and backpacks into the tent then walks next to you back up to the main campsite. After a quick safety spiel from the forestry guide, the whole group is off. Leon gets roped into a conversation with a man you recognize from the dinner party. You notice his wife? Girlfriend? next to him and so strike up your own small talk with her.

She happens to be his girlfriend and is nice to talk with, if a little distant. Before you get a chance to even ask her name, she’s being pulled away by Leon’s coworker as he jogs to catch up with some other man.

“Then there were two,” Leon nudges your arm with a wink.

Looking around you notice that you and he are the last in line, a little ways away from everyone as they chat and trample down the path following the guide.

The path loops down and around the edge of the woods before it opens up next to a lake. The guide stops for a minute and talks about the species native to the area and then proceeds forward. Leon tugs your arm and you two hang back together and watch as the rest of the crowd disappears down the trail.

He guides your back to press up against the tree overlooking the lake.

“Shh, shh,” Leon’s mouth whispers against your ear, “let me kiss that pretty pussy, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you wrap both hands over your mouth to stop any noises. Leon nips your ear and drops to his knees, hands coming up to undo the button of your shorts.

“What’s gotten into you?” you giggle.

He shrugs, “Just want you so much, baby.”

He tugs your shorts down to your knees leaving your panties on. Groaning, he pushes his face against your cunt, licking you through your underwear. In no time, your panties are soaked with his spit and you’re slick, your eyes fluttering shut as he laps at your clit through the cloth.

“Gonna make you cum just like this,” he mouths at the outline of your pussy lips, “get my pretty girl all messy.”

A moan is muffled by your hands, but you still buck your hips towards his mouth. His dilated eyes watch you hungrily as he goes back to licking and sucking your panty clad pussy. Leaving one hand covering your mouth, you let the other reach down to tangle in his hair.

Groaning, he licks harder and sucks your clit. You grind your pussy against his face as his hands come up to grip your hips, helping you hump against his mouth.

He looks gorgeous, pupils blown and hair messy as he lathes his tongue against your pussy. Your eyes drag down his body and you whimper to see the hard outline of his cock.

You pull your hand away just far enough to whisper, “Gonna cum, gonna cum, dad, please,” before clamping it back over your mouth so you won’t make any more noise.

Leon reaches up and grabs the hem of your panties, pulling them taut so your clit and pussy lips rub harder against the fabric. He laps at the outline of your sensitive bud and roughly sucks it into his mouth as best he can. He yanks your panties up again and it grinds your clit against his tongue just right making you cum, gushing slick into your underwear and all down your thighs.

When Leon finally pulls away, you’re so dizzy that he has to hold you up. He carefully pulls your shorts back up and buttons them, then adjusts his own hard on so it’s not noticeable.

“Better catch up before someone comes looking,“ he presses a kiss to your cheek as your dazed eyes just stare up at him.

“‘Kay,” you murmur, letting him guide you back out to the path that leads back into camp.

The rest of the afternoon passes by smoothly, just polite conversation with Leon’s coworkers and their families. When the sun sets and everyone decides to roast marshmallows, you watch as Leon chats with some guy on the other side of the fire pit.

You really take in his strong jaw and neck as he turns to the side to keep talking. Biting your lip, your gaze washes over his broad shoulders and thick arms down to his toned waist and strong thighs. You squeeze your own thighs together as you stare at his hands, watching as his fingers drum against his lap.

When you finally look up, you can see Leon looking straight back at you. You give him a little shrug and a flirty smile. You watch as he finishes up the conversation with the other guy and make his way over to you.

“You tired, sweetheart? We can head back to the tent,” his eyes are dark.

“Yeah,” you murmur, raising your hand for him to take and pull you to your feet.

A few folks call out goodnight with you and Leon replying as you walk off. Leon only keeps a hand on your upper back as you make the long trek over to your tent. But once inside, he’s pressing you down onto the downy sleeping back and kissing you senseless.

You whine and slip your clothes off, grabbing his hand to press it against your slick pussy.

“Feel how wet I am, daddy?”

He groans, head falling against your shoulder as his fingers rub against your pussy lips before pinching your clit.

“You’re soaked,” he bites your neck, “fuck. You been like this all night?”

“All afternoon,” you whisper, “since you made me cum at the lake.”

“Fuck,” he kisses you one last time and then shoves you further up the sleeping back to settle between your legs.

“Daddy,” you mewl trying hard to keep your voice down, hands tangled in his thick hair as he noses along your cunt kissing your clit, “they’re gonna hear us.”

He grins at you, eyes warm in the low light, “Then better be quiet, honey.”

You moan spreading your thighs even wider; he chuckles at you and licks a long wet stripe along your pussy, broad tongue parting your puffy lips, slick dripping all over his sleeping bag.

“Gonna eat you out so good, baby,” he groans kissing the hood of your clit “been wanting to bury my face in your hot little cunt all day.”

“Dad,” you whine, hips arching into his mouth, “this is so bad,” but you don’t do anything to stop him as he pushes his face further into your soaked pussy.

The excitement of getting caught ramps up your arousal making you hump your stepdad’s face harder, dragging slick all over his mouth.

His nose bumps your clit making your thighs clamp around his head, stopping him from being able to pull away. He groans, eyes heatedly staring up the line of your body as his tongues fucks into your drippy hole.

You tug and pull his hair when he licks into your cunt, rubbing his face further into your pussy lips to spread you open for his mouth. His big hands wrap around the outside of your thighs and he squeezes tightly, urging you to thrust down onto his tongue.

“So good,” you moan, head tipped back as your chest arches outward, hips rolling down into his plush mouth, “I’ve got the best daddy in the whole world.”

He growls into your cunt making your thighs spasm, pussy walls clenching down on his slippery tongue. Your eyes roll back, hips rocking down quicker as Leon greedily eats you out. His tongue slips out of your hole with a dirty, wet noise; his hands push your thighs open so he can raise his head.

“My perfect girl, wanna fuck you so loud all of’em know not to even look at you,” he sucks on your clit, spit dripping down your pussy lips.

“Dad,” you sigh, rocking up into his plush mouth, “‘m all yours, love you so much.”

He groans, pulling away from your pussy to crawl up your body, kissing you hotly.

“Let’s get in the sleeping bag,” he murmurs, “be a little less noisy.”

“Mmm okay,” you sigh, wiggling to pull the sleeping bag up underneath you.

Leon helps you, little laughs escaping as you both struggle with the slippery material until you’re pressed under Leon’s heavy weight as he zips up the side.

“Daddy,” you moan, “this is so hot.”

“Yeah?” he groans, kissing you again, “like that daddy’s got you trapped all nice and snug for him to fill your cute cunt?”

“Yes,” you whine, feeling Leon shift his boxers down.

When you relax against the ground of the tent, Leon’s hard cock nudges against your pudgy clit making you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh god,” you pant, spreading your legs the meager distance you can in the constraints of the sleeping bag.

“Fuck,” Leon’s eyes are dark as they look down at you.

He rocks his hips down, dragging the fat tip through your slick until he’s nudging against your hole.

“Want it, daddy,” your nails dig further into his muscled shoulders, “fill me up, please.”

He kisses you to muffle the sounds you both make as he presses his dripping cock into your clenching pussy.

He finally bottoms out, a painfully delicious stretch that has your pussy milking his cock already.

“Perfect,” his hips stutter forward to bury himself even deeper inside your wet heat, “perfect girl.”

“Dad, you’re so big,” your eyes flutter shut as his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“God don’t say that, I’ll cum way too soon,” he laughs, kissing your cheek, “got me acting like a teenager again.”

“Mmm that’s not a bad thing,” you cheekily smile up at him, “just means we can go again, right?”

He groans kissing you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth. As you’re making out, you rock your hips up only for Leon to sink more of his weight down on you, pressing you into the sleeping bag making you mewl.

“Can’t move too much,” he whispers against your ear, “too noisy, gonna have to let me take my time, pretty girl.”

“Please, Leon,” you whine, trying to move your hips but unable to, making you pulse around his dick, “need it.”

He laughs sweetly, “I do too. You can’t even imagine how hard it is just to sit here and let your pretty pussy cockwarm me.

Fuck,” he grunts grinding down against you, “gripping me so tight, like you need me to cum in you.”

“I do,” you whimper, nails scratching at his back, “need you to cum, daddy.”

“So sweet to me,” he kisses your neck softly, “might stay like this all night. Just stretch out your little pussy and nothing else.”

You bite his shoulder to muffle the loud moan in your throat. His cock kicks and throbs in your pussy as he rocks softly in and out.

“God, don’t know if I could handle that,” he groans, “wanna cum in you too much.”

“Yes, yes please,” you babble against the skin of his shoulder, kissing the bite mark, “want you so bad, daddy.”

“I know,” he coos, nipping at your neck, “you let daddy be so dirty with you today, honey. It’s the least I can do, right?”

“Uh huh,” you drool against him as he grinds and rocks harder into your squelching pussy.

“Did you like getting fingered by daddy?” he sucks a bruise lower on your neck, “I would’ve kept going even if someone walked up.”

Your legs kick out as he covers your palm to muffle your whining.

“You like that huh,” he grins, “yeah and when I was eating your cute pussy by the lake, anyone could see what I was doing,” his voice drops to a low whisper, “they could all see I was eating my daughter’s wet little cunt.”

Your eyes rolls back in your head as his pelvis rubs against your clit just right, pussy clamping down on Leon as you cum around his cock.

“Baby,” he groans, palm pressing harder onto your mouth to shield the sounds you’re making.

You slump bonelessly into the downy sleeping bag, muscles limp from your orgasm. Leon’s cock throbs in your pussy making you whine.

“S’good, daddy,” you smile at him, “wanna stay like this all night.”

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his face into your neck, “me too, baby.”

A loud shuffling in the distance makes you both pause. Even though the footsteps tread closer and closer, Leon keeps rocking his hips against you, cock slipping in and out of your soaked hole making you clench and pulse around him.

You whine and he kisses you heatedly, groaning into your mouth as he licks past your lips. Eyes rolling back as he softly fucks you, you feel another orgasm wash over your body. Scratching at his back, Leon’s weight keeps you pinned down so you can’t really thrash around like you want.

Leon’s gaze is hazy when he pulls back. You both hear several more sets of footsteps in the underbrush as well as people softly talking.

“God if they only knew I was fucking your pretty pussy.”

You whine behind his palm, tongue lapping at the salty skin.

“They’d think I’m so kind of pervert, fucking my daughters cute little cunt and liking it,” he grins as he feels your pussy squeeze on his dick, “you like this dirty old man dicking you down, honey?”

Your nails have to be drawing blood from how hard you’re clawing at Leon’s shoulders. Rocking your hips into his, you try your best to make him feel as out of control as you do.

You’re moaning his name behind his hand but try to keep your voice down, still hyper aware of the people walking out past your tent. Nothing changes so you feel like you’re safe enough to whimper up at him, tears slipping from your eyes from the pleasure Leon is wringing out of your body.

“I know,” he coos in your ear, “feels so good. I’m gonna fill you up in front of all these people.”

Your cunt pulses and throbs around his cock, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper into your hole. Leon continues to rut into your sopping wet pussy, thrusts getting harder and harder.

The people outside are walking all around your area talking quietly, totally oblivious to your dad fucking you stupid inside this flimsy tent.

“Ready? Huh? You ready for daddy to fill this warm wet pussy full of cum? Breed your hot cunt in front of complete strangers?” his tongue dips into your ear making you squeal into his palm, “wanna make me a real daddy?”

You’re going to cum again, just from Leon talking like that as he fucks your pussy. He raises his head to look into your eyes.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “good girl, letting me knock you up. C’mon, cum all over me again so I can cream your pussy.”

Mewling low in your throat, you feel your orgasm tightening in your lower belly. Leon snaps his hips quicker into your clenching heat. The voices and footsteps are faint now, everyone having walked past your tent headed to wherever.

Leon pushes the top of the sleeping bag off with a grunt and lets go of your mouth. He grabs your legs and press them up to your chest. He rocks his hips deep into your cunt.

“Just keep quiet, I’m almost finished,” he grins down at you playfully, “don’t know if they can hear you or not, honey.”

You whine freely, hands scratching against Leon’s pecs, “Dad, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Am I? Poor thing,” he starts to rub and pinch your nipples, “daddy hasn’t gotten to cum once today, what number is this for you?”

Eyes slipping shut as one of his hands slips down to your pussy to tease your clit, you moan softly, “I can’t r-remember. Daddy, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, “cum for me, honey.”

His fingers rub against your clit more firmly as he grinds deeper into your cunt. Your hands wildly move up to yank him into a sloppy kiss, muffling the wailing cry that leaves your throat as you climax. Stars dance behind your eyelids and your toes curl in on themselves while your orgasm buzzes through your body.

Leon groans into the kiss, spit dripping from your mouths as he buries his cock into your pussy and stilling. Hot, sticky cum spurts from his fat tip, filling your pussy so full that it drips around his throbbing dick.

You make out the entire time he cums inside you, moans and sighs traded between kiss swollen lips until his soft cock finally slips out of your drippy cunt.

“Perfect, pretty baby,” he pulls away, gently laying your legs flat.

He flops down tiredly next to you on the sleeping bag.

“You wore me out,” he teases, poking your side.

“Dad,” you whine, pushing his hand away, “you started it.”

“Nah, it was definitely you,” he tickles your side making you giggle and move away only to be yanked back with Leon’s arm around your waist.

He kisses you sweetly all over your face before pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips.

“Guess we should get some shut eye before tomorrow dawns bright and early.”

You groan, “Please not too bright or early.”

“No promises,” he chuckles into your hair as he drops a kiss on your head, “but I’ll do my best to wake you up in a nice way.”

“Good,” you yawn, “I’m holding you to that.”

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