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rafesfavgirl · 10 months ago

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with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you.

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner?

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you.

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

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Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?” “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

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frostgears · 2 months ago

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You're smugly proud of the mind control FX in Volume Phenomena II. Sure, the game's barely more than a vertical slice at this point, but the fans loved the Indai in VP1, and when they told your team that the sneaky high-tech psionic faction was going to play a bigger role in VP2, you couldn't wait to start prototyping.

You set up subtle geometry and color distortion shaders to push a game's sense of unreality whenever Indai Controllers were around, trying to get the player off balance before they actually came under psi attack. You added a subsystem to blend the normal tactical UI sounds smoothly into outright commands to the player, slowly turning "Reload!" into "Submit." with every repetition, and the like. The model swaps and UI screws that replaced friendlies with enemies and vice versa were already there from the first game, but you wanted to rub it in, and revamped the effects that taunted the player with their compromise: the infamous pink shader with the twisting fractal spirals looked even better in proper model space, spinning smoky curls off the edges of every object. You were particularly proud of that one.

So you probably shouldn't have been that surprised when you came back from lunch early to find one of your devs smiling blankly into her monitor, which was displaying the latest from the main branch: revamped HUD, orange gas giant rising above the lush green tropical forest of equatorial Midori… and pink spirals everywhere.

"Luna, darlin', you enjoying the new build?"

"Yes, I am."

"Is that the second Indai encounter?"

"Yes, it is."

Her voice was flat, empty. Huge contrast from normal Luna, who loved to drawl a running commentary over every single event in a test playthrough, especially if someone else's new code was involved. And not a bad impression of the player's VA.

"Who tells you what to think?", you joked, delivering one of the taunt lines.

"You do, Controller."

"Pffft. Awesome. Now you think you should take your top off."

Oops. That just slipped out. Too far, probably. The employment contract had some clauses about a "creative work environment" that made that kind of office joke a little more tolerated around here than, say, Microsoft, but you were glad the rest of your team was still at lunch.

You were about to apologize and hope she didn't take it the wrong way, when, without looking at you, she reached down to the hem of her oversized plaid flannel shirt and slowly pulled it and the underlying tank top over her head.

Her long, dark, wavy hair fell back onto bare shoulders. Her bra was blue, and black, and lacy, and cupped Luna's round, full breasts; from the way the fabric tented, her nipples were definitely pierced. There was a little teardrop opal between the cups. Funny what you notice when the higher parts of your brain are busy screaming that if somebody walked in right now, you'd probably lose your job, creative work environment or not.

"Luna! Luna, put your top back on, dammit, that was a joke."

"Yes, Controller," she said, still not looking at you. With no more emotion than before, she slid back into her tank top, then her shirt. A button had come undone at the top, but she didn't seem to notice.

*Well, fuck, now what?*

You bit your lip. The second Indai encounter was bugged. Unfinished. There were three Controllers, but one was placed in an area with a missing nav mesh, and there was no way for the player to reach her and actually take her out yet. Luna wouldn't have been able to do it.

You killed the game, alt-F4, back to the desktop. Luna showed no signs of responding to the change of visuals. She was completely out of it, expression neutral, eyes not quite tracking. You opened the game's asset folder, navigated three levels deep, played raw sound files of Indai death screams. No response. Your team would be back any minute now. Shit, what did the design doc say about accidentally dropping your coworkers?

Actually. Hmm. She had a link to it on her desktop. You nudged Luna's soft, unprotesting hand off her mouse, frantically paged through the Indai section of the huge PDF. The lead designer had written most of the gameplay sections and Priti always had a "Balance Considerations" heading somewhere. Notes from UX studies of the first game, suggesting that some players would prefer a hard counter so they could focus on the boring pure shooty parts…

Well, if this didn't work, you were fired. Worse, probably. You opened the subfolder for UI effects, leaned down to Luna's ear, and in your best sexy suit AI voice, whispered "Psionic interference detected. Null pulse generator discharge in 3… 2… 1…"

You double-clicked. cancel_debuff.flac blasted through her speakers, far too loud.

"Oh, hey," Luna said, suddenly grinning, "back from lunch already?"

You almost jumped out of your skin.

"Yes!"

"Oh, I wanted to show you something, wasn't sure if it was intentional enemy behavior or if the level guy hadn't finished pathing, but looks like your fuckin' hypno shaders crashed the game again," she said. "Gimme a sec, I'll try to get back in there."

"Uh, you don't need to, we have QA for that, it'll be in their next build," you stammered. It absolutely would not be in their next build. You'd figure out some reason to cut the effects down before anyone else saw this.

"QA," she said, "doesn't enjoy this build as much as I did."

"No, really, it's fine…"

She spun her chair around. "QA wouldn't enjoy the guilty blushing as much as I am."

"Luna!?"

The blue-haired engineer held a flash drive between thumb and forefinger. "I've got a pretty nice box at home. More VRAM than this company brick. Bet it runs those shaders juuuust fine. In four hours I'll be getting off the S line five stops from here, 45 Linden Apt. 204, and, you know, given that psi countermeasures aren't implemented yet, who knows what could happen?"

She dropped the drive into her top, buttoned her shirt, and, whistling the theme from VP1, got back to work. □

#microfiction

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swanimagines · 3 months ago

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Watch Dogs: Imagine being an ex-employee for Blume, working for DedSec and Wrench asks you out.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

A/N: I had a blast writing this <3 I hope you like it too!

Young you walking through Blume’s gates for the first time, lured in by your ex, had felt amazing. You had graduated from college with excellent grades, and working for Blume, the “better future”, held all your dreams together. You had imagined helping to build assets that would assist those in vulnerable positions, and changing the world into something better.

But then you first got introduced to how exactly ctOS worked, and everything you had believed in came crumbling down. Now, you truly saw what Blume was doing, gathering information about people without them consenting, behind a veil for a better future. It was sickening to see, but you were too deep to get out without anyone suspecting anything.

So, you moved out of the city you had lived all your life in, you lied to your boss that you simply need to take a break from work. You and your ex had separated a few months before that, so leaving him behind wasn’t a problem — especially when you weren’t even sure if he’d be accepting of Blume’s ways. He was more in the office and not really in the technical field like you, he may not even know what Blume is doing. But you wouldn’t be able to risk it, if he ever told Blume that you’ve told him about secrets they had made you vow never to tell outside that room with towers of data… you didn’t want to find out what would happen. It could be possible that they’d silence him too.

Your journey eventually brought you to San Francisco, where you got yourself a little apartment downtown. You knew you probably would be wiser if you just left the USA altogether, somewhere where Blume wouldn’t be able to find you and you could try chipping on them remotely, but… you couldn’t run and hide in another country you didn’t know. So you set up your computers and tried to find a way to help… but then, one day, you got a bag in your head and you got dragged somewhere. And your first thought was that Blume had found you, found out you were trying to sabotage them, and now they would silence you for good.

So when the bag was taken off your head, you assumed to see Dušan Nemec in front of you, accompanied by some Blume security guards. But instead, you saw four people around you, and it didn’t take long to figure out who they were – DedSec. A woman, a guy with a mask, a dark skinned, sturdy man, and a young man in a green hoodie, slightly turned away from the rest of you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, before you shook your head. “I’m not…”

You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Your attempts to breach Blume’s network, you had occasionally come across another foreign signal while probing through their systems. You had collided with it a few times, but now it made sense. It should have made sense at the start. It had been DedSec, and now they probably thought you'd been trying to sabotage them.

You sat there frozen, your eyes jumping between them. But then the woman who stood closest to you huffed with a slight smile. “Relax. We’re not here to hurt you.”

You swallowed, a small hint of relief washing over you. “I wasn’t targeting you, I’m sorry if it looked like that.”

The guy wearing a mask snorted. “Yeah, we get that. If you were targeting us, you’d have done a pretty bad job, even for a Blume counter hacker.”

“Wrench,” the woman sighed, shooting a glance at the man. He shrugged and fell silent.

The dark skinned man stepped forward. “You’ve done a pretty solid job, considering you’ve done everything alone. But you know, it won’t take long before Blume will track you down. They’ve already found the area the unwanted signals are coming from, and in a few hours at most, your apartment will be raided. It isn’t safe for you to go there anymore.

You shot up to stand. “But my whole life is there, all my—”

The man held up a hand. “All your equipment, all your data, all your personal belongings. We know. We already retrieved them. And we also wiped your info from the housing database.

Wrench snickered. “And the database will tell them that the apartment was rented by a giraffe-crocodile named Fuck Off.”

You blinked. “You… how?”

The man in a green hoodie finally turned towards you. “You only had a mattress without a bed and a few laptops, and some food. It wasn’t hard to get them out.”

The woman cleared her throat. “We’ve had you on our radar ever since we first noticed your signal a few days ago. Not because we think you’re a threat, quite the opposite. You could be useful for us.”

You frowned. “You mean… you’re trying to recruit me?”

The woman nodded. “You have the freedom to choose, of course. If you say no, we will prepare a burner phone for you with a few contacts so you’ll be able to disappear. But there’s a chance Blume will find you again unless you get out of the country, and even then it’s possible they’ll keep chasing you if there’s even a slightest doubt on their end that you’re the one who sent that signal.

You sighed. “So, my options are joining DedSec or running away and pray Blume won’t find me. Splendid.”

Wrench put his hand over his chest. “You make it sound like working with me wouldn’t be an opportunity of a lifetime.”

“The thing is,” the woman spoke again, “that you’ve already started fighting back. You clearly have a desire to bring Blume down, but you just don’t have resources for it. If you join us, we will have your back, we will teach you to hold the ropes and show you how exactly you help.”

You looked down at your hands, and your fingers twitched slightly as your thoughts fought with each other. What other choice did you have?

The woman stepped closer. “Listen, we’re not here to pressure you. We just wanted to give you the chance to make the call before Blume does it for you.”

“And they will,” the man in the green hoodie added. “Blume doesn’t let loose ends walk free. You’ve seen what they do. You know too much now.”

You turned your head and stared at the wall. “If… if I do this, there’s not going back.”

You saw from the corner of your eye how the dark-skinned man shook his head. “Not to your old life, no. But the life waiting for you with DedSec? It’s worth it.”

Wrench suddenly jumped in, throwing his arms wide. “Yeah! You get to hang with super cool hackers! What’s not to love?”

You felt everyone staring at you, and then you carefully nodded. “Okay. Okay, I will join. But I won’t be doing anything crazy, alright? At least… not at first. I need time to learn.”

The woman smiled. “Welcome to DedSec.”

Wrench whooped, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “You’re gonna love it here! First mission: pick your hacker name. And no, you can’t steal mine, but I’m open to inspiration.”

—

A lot had happened during the past year. For the first three months, you had a hacking bootcamp held by Josh, and you ended up becoming pretty good at it. And now, you were doing just some checkups on your firewalls even though it wasn’t really necessary but it was a good way to pass time. Wrench sat by his workbench, you had noticed he was quieter than usual. When it was just the two of you, he wouldn’t shut up. He’d swing jokes and stories your way, but now he was just sitting there, fidgeting.

But then, he spoke. “Uh… are you finishing up soon?”

You snorted. “I’ve been finished for about an hour, just passing time for now.”

He turned on his stool. “Oh, cool. That’s good.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you stared back. You caught his mask showing heart eyes for a fraction of a second, and you frowned. “What?”

“Um, I was thinking… we’ve worked together for a long time, right? And… I think you’re cool. Really cool. Coolest person around. And uh…” he stammered, his mask displaying a heart again for a moment before disappearing. “I was wondering if… we could go out tonight? Not as DedSec partners, nor really friends either. Or I, I mean if you want to go as friends, that’s cool too, but… I was thinking of like, a date. With me?”

You froze, staring at him in turn. His mask flickered between three different emoticons, and you held back a smile when you realised he was panicking.

“A date?” you echoed. You wanted to make sure you heard right, understood right. Maybe his mask glitched somehow, it was so not like Wrench to panic like that.

He nodded while wringing his hands together. “Yeah, a date. Like a dinner, or a movie, or just a walk in a park I guess. I just… I want to get to know you better, beyond uh… friendship. No pressure! If you aren’t interested, we can pretend this discussion never happened, and I can go back to just being friends, or colleagues, or—”

“Wrench,” you interrupted, unable to hold back a smile now. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He froze for a moment, then jumped up, his mask displaying fireworks. “Yes! Okay, awesome, cool. Cool, cool, uh. What do you want to do? I’m going to make something amazing, like movie-level amazing. But not like, cheesy rom-com amazing,” he babbled, then froze again, looking at you. “Unless you like cheesy rom-coms. Do you like cheesy rom-coms?”

You laughed, standing up and walking up to him, before you took his hand into yours and squeezed. “Relax, Wrench. Anything we will do is fine, as long as you’re there.”

He was quiet for a moment, and his mask went through multiple emoticons again. Heart eyes, blush, joy… before he lifted his other hand to the side of it, resetting it to those default X’s. “You’re going to make my mask short–circuit if you keep my heart rate jumping like this.”

You laughed again, bringing his hand to your own chest so he could feel the rapid thumping of your own heart. His mask settled into heart eyes again, and you looked behind you. “Do I need to dress up for where we’re going?”

He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “If you want to. But you look gorgeous either way.”

You felt yourself blush again, and you knew Wrench was also bright red behind his mask. And you knew that this date would be amazing either way.

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barefoothighlander · 2 years ago

Note

ok but like gangbang with 141 x gn! or fem! reader...

alright i tried my best, this is literally porn with very minimal plot so. not proofread

warnings: mdni (18+), literally exactly what you expect, oral (fem+male rec), smut, dub con, unprotected pinv, anal fingering, overstimulation, creampie, so much touching, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, it’s a 5sum all bets are off, this is pure smut so read with caution, use of afab descriptors

You don’t know exactly how it started but Price had called the team into his office, you had just come back from a failed mission, you, Soap and Ghost were all meant to clear the building and retrieve your target while Price and Gaz provided aid from the heli, except your target got away. Luckily everyone made it out with barely a scratch, but it set the op back weeks now as you had no clue where your target had escaped to.

You anticipated getting a ear full from Price back on base, it had been your fault that the mission went sideways, you let off a shot too early, causing the enemy to track your position and reign fire while your group tried to push in, it hadn’t been your first mistake, but it would be your last.

You’re sitting in the office, nervously picking at the skin around your nails as the team files in, one by one. Price is sitting 5 feet from you, a lit cigar hanging from his lips as he waits for the men to settle in. You were already scared to be yelled at by your Captain but having him do it in front of the team made it astronomically worse, these were men you respected, you hoped they respected you.

“Simon lock the door”

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, was he going to kick you off the team?

“You’re a valuable asset to this team, but this mistake, you understand I have to punish you in some way”

“Yes Captain”

“Good” He stands from his chair nodding at Soap who moves forward and placed his arms on your shoulders, you stand up from your seat confused.

“You can say no at anytime” Soap says as he leans in and kisses you. He pulls back and you’re in awe, utterly baffled by the situation, you glance around the room, you’re cornered by the four men, and your heartbeat rises.

“Sargent, it’s your call” Price says to Soap and he nods, his hands moving down your form to i bottom your pants, your brain is a flurry of a thousand thoughts as he pulls them down, leaving you bare aside from your panties. His hands roam over your thighs before moving to cup at your sex, the feeling causes arousal to pool in your lower stomach.

Soap looks up at you from his spot on his knees before his fingers push your panties aside and he attaches his lips to your clit. You brave yourself back against the desk with your hand, his tongue working intricate circles over your bud, the sensation diluting your senses.

Soap wraps his arms behind your knees, pulling your body up slightly to rest you on the desk, allowing you to fall back, your back pressing against the wood as your fingers thread through his hair. You hear Price utter something to the men and you become painfully aware of your state, naked and vulnerable in front of your team, blush covers your cheeks as you make eye contact with Ghost who was braved against a wall.

Price circles your form, moving to stand at your head as his hand cups your jaw, you’re a mess of moans as Soaps fingers tease at your entrance.

“Just relax” Price says, reaching down to unbutton his pants and pulling out his hard length. You swallow thickly, his thick cock staring you down, his tip is leaking and all your thoughts converge on wanting to taste him. You stick your tongue out and he smirks, running the top along the muscle before pushing in, you open your jaw and allow him deeper, moaning around him.

Gaz and Ghost appear at your sides, Ghost scans your form before bringing his hands to grab at your shirt, tearing it from your body causing you to flinch from the cool breeze, he watches your breasts move as you writhe under Soaps tongue, his gloved hands moving to pinch at your hard nipples, eliciting a sigh from your chest.

Price is braced above you, one hand on your neck as he thrusts into your mouth, the room filling with the wet sounds from your mouth mixed with the gags he was forcing out of you, you’re struggling to breath, Soaps fingers pushing deeper into you, curling to hit your sweet spot as he sucks your clit into his mouth, Price pulls back from your throat allowing you a deep breath before your orgasm hits you suddenly, the men watch as to ur back arches, fingers gripping at the table as you ride out your high.

“Shit if I knew that’s what you sounded like I woulda done this sooner” Johnny says

You’re breathless, splayed out in the table like some sort of animal as the men’s eyes roam your form, they’re whispering to eachother as Gaz positions himself at the entrance, Price teases his cock at your mouth.

“Just gotta open you up a little” Price says, his cock pushing past your lips, you flatten your tongue against his shaft allowing him to thrust into your mouth. You swallow around him as Gaz inserts himself, the sudden intrusion making your eyes squeeze shut, you’re reaching for anything you can grab before you feel Ghost grab your hand, guiding it to his own cock. You moan at the feeling, your hand barely able to wrap around it nerves suddenly wracking your body as you think about taking him. He holds your hand to him, stroking it up and down his length as Soap watches you, your body glistens with a thin layer of sweat as Gaz continues fucking into you, securing a quick pace that has your legs wrapping around his waist. Price slows his thrusts, cooing in your ear before he buries himself deep in your throat, you choke around him as you feel your mouth fill with his hot seed, swallowing him before he removes himself.

“That’s a good girl”

You take a deep breath, the thrusts from Gaz making your hands clench on Ghost, a small grunt falling from his lips.

Soaps hands roam your body, his thumb settling on your clit as your hips twitch, you’re unraveling, your body putty in their hands. Your skin is rubbing against the hard desk, your neck digging into the corner before Prices hands move to hold your head,

“Doing so well Sargent”

He coos in your ear, his praise allowing you to relax, Ghost moves your hand to stroke his length, Gaz picks up his pace, the force making your body move slightly up and down, your breasts jumping with every thrust. Gaz is cursing as his pace becomes rabid, chasing his high, he bottoms out inside you and your pussy fills with his spend, the sensation making you curl your toes and you whimper as he pulls out.

Strong hands snake under your form, pulling your body up to turn you and place your chest flat against the table, your body spreading out as Soaps hands spread your thighs, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your ass causing you to flinch. His thumb teases at your virgin hole and your head falls forward, forehead coming into contact with the wood.

“Don’t worry lass, I won’t fuck your ass just yet”

He teases the head of his cock between your folds, causing you to clench around nothing before he pushes in, your slick coating him as the remnants of Gaz’s orgasm spill from your core. His cock is dragging against the ridges inside you, cashing moans to spill from your lips, quickly caught by Ghosts fingers as he pushes them into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around the digits sucking on them and he removes them with a pop, his spit soaked hand moving to stroke his cock in front of your face.

He watches your eyes widen as you finally catch a glimpse of him, smirking to himself, his massive member wracking your nerves. He cups your jaw, turning your head so your cheek is flush with the desk, his tip prodding at your lips. You part them letting him settle his cock between and he holds himself there, your tongue flicking over his leaking head.

You struggle to keep him in your mouth as your jaw opens, more gasps and moans slipping out as Soap pounds into you, your hips digging into the desk sure to leave bruises, his fingers got at your clit, correcting your slick before placing them over your asshole, teasing around the rim before pushing in past his first knuckle, the new sensation has you melting as he moves his fingers in tandem with his cock.

Soap is gripping your waist as he fucks deep into you, his top hitting your cervix with every thrust, burying himself to the hilt, his arms reach down and pull you up against him, your head falling to his shoulders as his arms snake around your waist.

Price sits on the desk in front of you, his eyes glued to your face as he watches you come apart, his hands moving down to circle your clit causing you to clench around Soap.

“That’s it baby, you wanna cum on his cock”

You nod

“Yeah? You wanna cum for all of us”

You look around, eyes glancing over the men before you sheepishly nod at Price,

“Then do it, cum for us”

You clench down on Soaps cock as he buried himself deep into you, filling you as you ride out your second high. He pulls from you and you fall forward, hands braced against Priced shoulders as he runs circles over your bare skin, the mixture of seed dribbling down your thighs.

Price barely gives you time to breath before inserting himself the intrusion making you sob into his neck, he holds you against him as he fucks up into you, a hand grabbing at your thigh to brave your leg on the desk allowing him deeper.

Your clinging to him, face buried in his shoulder as he drills you, your weight being held up by him as you lose your balance. His arm is around your waist, tugging your form down on him in time with his thrusts, he’s hitting impossibly deep inside you.

Gaz kneels behind your form, his hands moving to spread your ass to give the men a better view of where you and price meet as your juices coat his cock.

Wet sounds fill the room as Price continues fucking you until you can’t see straight, his punic hair grinding against your clit everytime he brings your body down, your hard nipples grazing against his rough shirt.

You turn your head and find Simons eyes, they’re glued to you, his face stoic under his mask as he strokes himself, the sight alone brings you back to the edge. You cum with a cry as Price keeps his pace, pounding into you, refusing to let you down.

His arms grip at your form, his knuckles almost white as he keeps you still, grunting as his orgasm overtakes him, he thrusts in a few more times fucking his spend deeper into you. You’re practically filled to the brim, begging for a break as he moves out from under you.

Ghost moves in front of you, the tip of his cock red, almost angry as he sits in Priced chair, legs parted. You whimper at the sight, slowly making your way to him, his hands find your hips as you settle on top of him, straddling his cock. You glide your folds over his length, shuddering when it hits your clit. His hands find your thighs, urging you up as he lines himself up with your core, you move down on him slowly, his size stretching you as you brave against his chest.

You were so weak and he was massive, you practically fainted against him, he fucked up into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to him in your fatigued state, once you adjusted he stood up, your legs still around him as he laid your back against the table, holding you there. Soap found your side, his cock situated beside your mouth, you lazily pry your lips allowing him in and he drags his length across your tongue.

Ghost holds your thighs to your chest, keeping you still as he fucks into you, the sensation of him making your brain cloud as your moans turn into pathetic meals and whimpers. He’s moulding you to him with every thrust as Soap pushes deeper into your throat.

“So fuckin pretty like this lass”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, your hair a mess sticking to your forehead as your skin glistens in a sheen of sweat. Soap braves himself over you, holding his cock deep in your throat before cumming, it pools in the back of your mouth, the salty taste mixing with the remnants of Price as you swallow every drop. He pulls from you with a heavy breath and you turn your attention to Ghost, your body is wrecked, your muscles weak as he forced you to take every inch of him, your head falls back as you let him use your body.

His pace is hard and rough, his cock filling every bit of your abused hole as he leans over you, hand gripping your jaw forcing you to look at him. You let out a whimper and he feels his abdomen tighten, his seed filling you to the brim as he comes down from his own high. He pulls from you, his fingers pushing the cum back into your weeping cunt as you clench around him.

You’re breathless, at their mercy as they tuck themselves back into their pants, your naked form splayed over the desk.

Soap finds himself back at your side with a glass of water, his arm braces against your frame holding you upright as Price kneels below you, helping you into your underwear so you don’t feel as vulnerable. Your breaths are heavy as you come to, your mind beginning to clear as your heartbeat settles.

“We clear now on why we don’t shoot early” Price asks

You nod meekly,

“Good, cause next time we won’t be as nice”

You swallow a thick gulp as the men leave the room, it reeks of sweat and sex as you dress yourself slowly, your knees wobbly as you brave against the wall, silently praying that no one heard what had just happened.

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assettracker · 1 month ago

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Industrial Equipment Management with Real-Time Tracking from AssetTrackerIoT

AssetTrackerIoT provides real-time updates for industrial equipment, ensuring quick decision-making. With mobile app access, you can track, manage, and receive alerts for all your fleet assets. Enjoy enhanced security with custom roles and detailed reports. Optimize equipment management today with AssetTrackerIoT.

#assetmanagement #rfid #tracking software #assettracking #tracking system #office asset tracking #rfid technology #asset tracking #rfid tags #assets

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jpbradley · 2 years ago

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Which Primarchs committed tax fraud?

Lorgar claimed tax exempt status as a church. Cited a law from the Age of Strife, rejected after lengthy legal proceedings. Definitely did not instigate the Heresy to avoid paying his substantial fines.

Sanguinius filled his form wrong. He managed to charm the investigating officer into allowing him to resubmit, but failed to file on the ground that he was murdered by Horus. A small percentage of Blood Angels are, to this day, afflicted with anxiety over an unfiled return.

Roboute Guilliman 100% knows how to commit tax fraud, and how to get away with it. Of course he does. He's the tax man (Ultramar regional office). Hates Magnus for reasons we'll get to.

Jaghatai Khan neither knows nor cares what taxes are. The Imperial Revenue took years to track down his address, and after several final demands an investigator visited only to find a lone postbox 300 miles from anywhere, half buried in unopened mail.

Perturabo failed to declare assets 'inherited' from Ferrus Manus and is currently awaiting a trial date.

Ferrus Manus has been given dispensation to defer his return for the tax year on the following grounds:

Being dead.

Lion El'Johnson swears he knows how to commit tax fraud but simply never would. He's lying. He has no idea but would rather walk naked into the Warp than admit it.

Vulkan keeps fastidious notes through the year which makes him very popular with his accountants. They try to convince him to expense his Drakeskin cloaks but he refuses as he wears them recreationally (despite the Salamander's 'business logo') and doesn't want to get into trouble.

Fulgrim completed his return, he really did, but it wasn't right. Currently on his cogitator is 'Tax Return 3 FINAL (FINAL!!).tax' unsent.

Leman Russ vaguely understands that tax is a thing. Thus far nobody can decide if the Space Wolves mix of raucous hospitality and space Viking intimidation towards investigators is a concerted effort to avoid paying or if they're just like that.

Magnus has all the documentation to prove that he's paid. It's all right there. It makes absolutely no sense and somehow he's owed money? Guilliman is convinced he's full of it but hasn't been able to prove it and is quietly seething.

Rogal Dorn pays in full and fully hates anyone who doesn't. He grumbles about it to anyone who will listen, usually within earshot of anyone he suspects isn't paying his way. Magnus & Conrad vocally agree with him. Guilliman leaves the room before he says something he'll regret.

Alpharius definitely submitted a return. Nothing about it looks right, all the numbers are estimates, all the assets are in some kind of code but somehow it's already been stamped as accepted.

Konrad Curze also vocally hates anyone who doesn't pay up. Secretly he hasn't paid in years. He is beyond the pretty laws of 'taxes' and with everyone focused on Lorgar, Perturabo and Magnus he's just slipped through the cracks, which he has taken as a silent endorsement.

Corvus Corax wants to pay tax. He’s tried to pay tax. He’s sent several returns to the Imperial Revenue and still they haven’t taken the money. He’s beginning to get worried. He needn’t be. They have quite simply forgotten he exists and it's gone on too long for them to admit their mistake.

Mortarion pays but hates everything about it. He thinks it's a personal slight and is convinced he is paying more than everyone else. He's right. This makes his whining no less annoying.

Angron had taxes explained to him once and ol' Rusty's sacrifice is why Imperial Revenue officers can wear jeans on Fridays. Since then the IR has practiced a bold 'hands off' approach with the World Eaters, proving that violence is sometimes an answer.

Horus absolutely pays his taxes. In Horusbux: A currency of his own devising. Lorgar attempted to trick Horus into a ponzi scheme, now all of his money is in Horusbux and he has no idea how it happened. Horus keeps on promising everyone massive returns, usually from the deck of his waryacht, the Live Forever II.

#horus heresy #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #primarchs #imperium of man #wh40k #40k #warhammercommunity

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aforestescape · 8 months ago

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ghoap x gn!reader

inspired by soaps mic collar. id love to make that man whimper. also i’m a simon lover at heart if you didn’t know:)

you’re all a few drinks in at the pub, listening to simon bicker on with kyle about some reality show they’d been watching. curtesy the influence of introducing them to your cousins who loved a snarky drama show. if you knew it would have led to heated conversations while you’re busy trying to get drunk, you probably wouldn’t have done it.

you and john share a look of stilted amusement before taking another gulp of your drink. eyes fleeting over the crowded bar until they land on johnny up at the counter. one well defined arm leaned against the counter, far too big for the tight shirt he’s sporting. that award winning grin on his face as he chats with some bloke next to him. you keep your eyes on them, taking a drink again to wash away the feelings that try to surface.

you were the newest addition to the group. somehow you’d ended up staying along with the four men. it wasn’t something you were used to, team dynamics. sticking to one place for so long to actually find yourself enjoying the company of your teammates. you’d always been an expendable asset. more of a freelancer to help assist other teams missions from the sidelines. but you’d found it hard to want to leave after the months long mission you’d been assigned to with 141.

you’d always been intuitive and from the moment you first met them all you could feel something settling inside of you. a small inkling in the back of your mind that you had time to get used to these people. so when the assignment ended and you sat across from price in his office going over last minute paperwork you couldn’t find yourself regretting agreeing to another mission with them.

the added bonus to the camaraderie, the playful banter and dynamics that felt closer to family than that of coworkers was just how attractive they were. simons cold indifference was similar to you in some ways, it’s the type of men you’d gone for in the past. ones who’s shells needed to be slowly cracked open before you could get a glimpse of what might be inside. it was all too easy to give dry laughs back to his terrible dad jokes. to make sure you kept your voice low when you talked to him, fingers moving in rusty form to talk back with him.

he didn’t like speaking. he could, of course. he had to when they were out on the field, during the times when they had to go, go, go with enemies right down the corridor, chasing them down. but when they were back on base, even on nights like tonight he’d be quiet for so long his voice would be hollower than normal when he finally spoke.

and you couldn’t possibly not have noticed the way he looked at johnny. their dynamic felt untouchable to you. how easily they fell into kilter with each other. the way simons eyes always tracked the mohawked man had your eyes following along. wanting to catch a glimpse of the man he saw. maybe a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have understood so much why his gaze felt like it could burn you in proximity.

but now you could. you’re sure your gaze burned just as hard as your eyes stayed on johnny.

johnny was smart, no denying it. he was analytical and loved to run probabilities with you. on the days following your post mission you’d end up sitting next to each other and he’d ask your thoughts on the people passing by. you figured he only sat still long enough because you entertained him as he quickly divulged into ramblings on how the stranger walking by was running late to his meeting since he found the missus’ with the neighbor. he supported her though since the guy was obviously a wanker, look at his scarf.

it’s not until he’s back at the table, drink in hand that he got for free and grinning at you that you decide that professionalism isn’t enough to stop you from what you want. he takes his seat next to you, thick thighs brushing yours as he goes off on a story about what just happened with the guy. you suppose it might be funny because the rest of the group laugh at what he says but your eyes are glued to his neck.

ignoring the rest of the group you lean over to him slightly, cold fingers from touching your drink grazing his neck as you touch the black leather choker round his neck. fingertips slipping past the fabric to hook it in your grasp before tugging on it.

“you like being collared johnny? why’re you still wearing this.”

your eyes track the swallow of his adams apple, trailing up to catch his tongue swipe over his lips and the blue of his eyes.

“can’t take it off myself,” he says, voice quieter than normal. you raise an eyebrow, mind processing as simon picks up to respond.

“i’ve got the key. you wan’ him you’ll have to ask nicely.”

wrote this a while ago but i wasn’t happy with it so it sat in my drafts. i had a passing in my family recently so my post are probably going to be even more sparse soz

#cod fanfic #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghoap x you #ghoap x reader #aforestescape

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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Captain America: Civil War - 2

Summary: After Peggy's funeral, Steve, Sam and you go to Bucharest to track down Bucky before the FBI kills him, or at least tries to.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Here's part two of Civil War and the first look into a Bucky x Reader relationship! That's my goal, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It’s been a sad few days for Steve, he’s been crying a lot after the news that Peggy died.

You and Sam offered to go with him to the funeral so now you’re both sitting in the first row as Steve and five other guys carry the coffin.

“And now, I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words.” the priest says and Steve’s old neighbor Agent 13, steps up to the podium.

Your eyes widen a little in shock and elbow Sam while looking at her, then Sam nudges Steve and nods to her.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of SHIELD… but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” Sharon starts the eulogy and you look at Steve who's just as surprised to see her. “She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.”

She looks directly at Steve before continuing. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move… it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say ‘No. You move.’.”

Her words hit you deep, and you’re sure they hit Steve deep, too.

Peggy was clearly a very smart woman, and the fact that she helped found SHIELD and was such a badass made her your inspiration when you were a trainee and ever since you became an agent. Sharon’s words just made you more and more sure that not signing the Accords is the right thing to do.

After the funeral Steve asks you and Sam for a moment alone, so you hug him before letting him have some peace, making your way to the hotel you’re all staying at with Sam.

You’re in the hotel bar when the news comes on with the bombing in Vienna. You and Sam exchange a worried glance and set out to find Steve right away.

You find him near the elevators with Sharon just as the elevator arrives.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Sharon says and as Steve answers “Sure” you get close to them.

“Steve.” you grab his attention.

“There’s something you gotta see.” Sam finishes.

We all go up to Sharon’s hotel room to turn on the news that’s all about the UN bombing in Vienna and how the culprit is believed to be James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier HYDRA asset and formerly known as Sergeant Barnes, Steve’s best friend.

They talk about the death of King T’Chaka and you look at Steve who seems as concerned as you are as you quietly say. “That’s not good.” And he agrees with a nod.

“I have to go to work.” Sharon says and you all know what has to be done.

Sam, Steve and you flew to Vienna with Sharon and now you and Sam are in a coffee shop waiting for Steve while he talks to Natasha.

“How can you eat at a time like this?!” you whisper shout to Sam, annoyed.

“What am I supposed to do, starve?” He answers and you roll your eyes but before you can say anything back, Steve steps next to him.

“She tell you to stay out of it?” you ask him, knowing Natasha pretty well.

“Might have a point.” Sam comments casually.

“He'd do it for me.” Steve says back.

“1945, maybe.” Sam says and you roll your eyes and try to be a little more sensitive than Sam.

“I just want to make sure we consider all our options.” you gently say, but Sam cuts in.

“Yeah, the people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at us.” He says and can’t really fight him on that, he’s not wrong.

Sharon appears next to Steve and starts talking quietly without looking at any of us.

“Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter soldier goes to their gym. Most of it is noise. Except for this.” She slides Steve a file. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that's all the head start you're gonna get.”

“Thank you.” Steve says as he takes the file.

“And you're gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” she says and leaves as the three of you exchange a worried glance. Without wasting any time, you make your way out of the coffee shop and to the airport, destination: Bucharest.

You get to the right address and go separate ways. Sam gets to the roof of the building that Steve enters to look for Barnes and you go to the roof of the other building, where you have an eye on both Sam and, thanks to the scope on your rifle, you can see Steve even through the covered windows.

You see Steve enter the small apartment and look around, then he goes to the kitchen and picks up what looks like a notebook and opens it. Then you hear Sam’s voice through the comms.

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south.” You notice movement behind Steve as Sam talks.

“Understood.” Steve says as you see Barnes has entered the apartment.

“Steve, turn around.” You tell him through the comms and he slowly does.

“Do you know me?” You can hear Steve ask, but can’t hear Bucky’s response because he's talking too quietly.

“They've set the perimeter.” Sam says, but you’re still focused on Bucky inside the building.

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be.” You hear Steve say, “But you're lying.” You can see Bucky’s lips moving, but at this angle you can’t really read his lips.

“They're entering the building.” Sam says and you finally take your attention away from the apartment and look around the building as you hear Steve talk.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive.”

“Sam, they’re on the roof.” You say through the comms.

“She’s right, I'm compromised.” He says.

“This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck.” Steve says.

“5 seconds.” Sam says in your ear.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?” Steve keeps trying to get through to Bucky.

“3 seconds!” You say as you see them about to breach the apartment.

“Yes, you do!” Steve almost yells before you hear Sam yelling in your ear.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” you see a grenade crash through the window. Bucky kicks it to Steve, and he smothers it with his shield.

You see Bucky shielding himself with the mattress against an attack from the window, then he blocks the door with a table as cops swing in on cables. Steve pulls the rug from under a policeman, sending him flying. Bucky slams another policeman into the wall.

“Buck, stop! You're gonna kill someone.” you hear Steve say before Bucky slams him down and punches a hole in the floor right next to his face.

You faintly hear him say, “I'm not gonna kill anyone.” Before he pulls something out the floor, throws it out the building and it lands near you.

You’re about to go see what’s in it but are distracted by Bucky and Steve hiding behind the shield together before Bucky shoves Steve into a cop and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

Bucky holds up his metal hand and repels bullets, then slams a cop into some shelves. He picks up a large cement brick and slams it into a cop and you can see Steve fighting another cop on the balcony.

You see Bucky punch through the wall beside the door. He steps into the hallway and you lose sight of him, a second later Steve steps into the hallway and you lose him too.

“You have a visual, Sam?” You ask through the comms and he answers with a simple ‘No’.

You hear Steve say “Come on, man.” and hear his grunting as he fights.

After a minute you hear Steve say “Y/N, he’s coming your way.” and you frown.

“What do you mean he’s-” Before you can answer you can see Bucky jumping out a balcony and you let out a quiet “Holy shit.” that makes Steve groan and Sam snicker.

Bucky lands not too far away from you and, before he can get to his backpack, you put yourself in front of him so he can’t get to it.

“Hello, soldier.” you say in a teasing and vaguely flirting tone, but he simply looks at you for half a second before throwing a punch that you avoid and quickly say “Not a talker. Got it.” Before throwing a punch of your own that he easily stops, holding your arm as he sweeps your legs and in a second you’re on the ground.

Bucky picks up his backpack and runs, but a big man all dressed in black, a full face mask with pointed ears, slams into him and knocks him down. He extends his fingers and sharp claws pop out and he attacks Bucky with sweeping kicks and slashes.

Bucky fights back but is kicked into a wall, the figure swipes his claws and spins gracefully. Bucky narrowly avoids being slashed, holding up a metal bar to protect himself.

You get up and get closer to them to try and help Bucky. You kick the man off of him and protect Bucky by standing in front of him in a fighting stance.

“Bad kitty.” you tell him and can hear Steve and Sam simultaneously say “Seriously, Y/N?”

“Sam, southwest rooftop.” you hear Steve say as the cat man lunges at you.

“Who the hell's the other guy?” Sam asks.

“About to find out.” Steve answers while you try your best to not get killed by the overgrown cat you’re fighting at the moment. The man manages to slam you into a wall and lunges at Bucky with his claws, but Bucky grabs his wrists.

You’re about to help but a soldier fires a machine gun from a chopper, the ammo bounces off the man’s armored suit who’s now on top of Bucky, but you’re forced to hide to avoid the bullets.

You hear Steve call for Sam’s help and Sam answers with a “Got him.” before he flies down and shoves the chopper off course, then swoops towards street level.

Bucky breaks free from his attacker, slings his bag on his back, runs and jumps down a level, and the other man slides down the wall using his claws for traction. Bucky lands at street level and the chase continues. Steve follows and lands rolling along the ground.

You watch them from the edge of the roof and sigh. “Okay, I can’t do that.” You look up in search of Sam. “Sam, I need a ride.”

“I got you.” He says as he swoops down and picks you up, taking flight again to follow the others while you hang on to him for dear life.

Gunfire from the chopper tears up the sidewalk, Bucky jumps down through an opening, lands in an underpass and he runs through the traffic. Cat Suit and Steve drop down and chase after Bucky as a Special Forces Vehicle pursues all of them.

You see Steve leap onto the vehicle and splinter the windshield and, when the driver stops, Steve yanks him from the vehicle and kicks the windshield out, then drives off.

Bucky runs over the top of a speeding car, outpacing it and Cat Suit is a few cars behind, keeping pace with him. Then he leaps on the back of the 4x4 that Steve's driving and Steve swerves from side to side, trying to throw him off.

“Sam, I can't shake this guy.” He says into the comms.

“We’re right behind you.” Sam says as you fly behind him.

Several police cars join the chase and you see Steve side-swipe another car and drive on.

Bucky leaps over a barrier and Steve drives through it, then you can see Bucky grab the handlebar of an incoming motorcycle and spin the bike around in mid air, throwing the rider off as he gets on the bike himself, riding away and sending cars careering out of the way.

Steve keeps on Bucky's tail with Cat Suit holding onto the back of his car. They all rocket through another underpass and Sam flies into the underpass.

Cat Suit leaps off the front of Steve’s car onto Bucky's motorbike and Bucky flings him over his head and the bike leans down on its side. Bucky kicks his assailant away, straightens up and rides on.

Cat Suit catches a ride on one of Sam’s legs and Sam tries to kick him away. Bucky throws a sticky bomb and blows up the roof at the end of the underpass, bringing down tons of rubble.

Sam tells you to hang on and you can feel his grip tighten on you as he stops and throws the Cat Suit man into the rubble. He throws Bucky off the motorcycle as Steve swerves the car through the rubble and leaps out, running as Bucky and the Cat roll on the ground.

When they stop the Cat is on Bucky right away but Steve jumps on him and pulls him off Bucky.

Steve stands up, facing the sleek and muscular overgrown black cat as the police arrive and surround you all, guns aimed. War Machine leaps down from above and raises both his suit hands, guns drawn.

“Stand down, now.” Rhodey says, aiming at Bucky and Steve who are standing side by side and at the Cat Suit Guy. Steve puts his shield on his back again as Rhodey continues. “Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal.”

Police move in and force Bucky to his knees. The Cat raises his hands as a cop moves Steve's arms behind his back and you and Sam are also handcuffed and brought closer to the others by two police men. The cat retracts his claws and pulls off his mask revealing his face and you’re all shocked to see it’s King T'Challa.

“Your highness.” Rhodey says as Bucky's hauled flat on the ground and getting handcuffed.

You all get arrested, forced to change out of our suits and gears and taken to Berlin. Bucky is restrained inside a glass-walled pod surrounded by armed guards.

In an SUV sits T’Challa on front, then you, then Steve and last Sam. You’re quietly going through traffic until Sam very respectfully breaks the silence. “So, you like cats?”

“Sam.” Steve warns him while you snort in amusement, looking out the window to avoid what you’re sure will be a disappointed glare from Steve.

“What?” Sam continues. “Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?”

“Your suit…” Steve ignores Sam and addresses T’Challa. “Is it Vibranium?”

“The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior.” T’Challa finally speaks up. “And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Oh, no. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king... how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

The silence that follows is deafening, as none of you know or want to give an answer to that, and you’re sure T’Challa doesn’t expect one.

“Sorry about King T’Chaka…” You say quietly after a moment.

“Don’t worry, miss Y/LN. He will be vindicated.” He answers back without missing a beat.

You look back at Steve and Sam and they both look as worried as you feel.

This is not going to end well, is it?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

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dustyrkives · 23 hours ago

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Inheritance? Taken Care Of

PAIRING: Ada Wong x fem reader

WARNINGS: RE4r Ada, post-Spain, parentified daughter r, researcher r, morally gray r, mommy issues, psychological drama, oldest daughter core r and because this piece speaks to me since I'm the eldest daughter of the Asian household–this is self-indulgent oops, emotional neglect, workaholic, unhealthy coping, power play, unethical sciences oops, soft dom Ada, emotional manipulation, possessive Ada, unprotected sex, soft to rough sex, raw sex, biting, marking, marathon sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation and that's about it, I think.

SYNOPSIS: Your mother shaped you into the perfect scientist–brilliant, disciplined, and drowning in her legacy. Even in death, her voice haunts you. Then came Ada Wong. A deal. A distraction. A mistake. Now, she watches you unravel, unwilling to let you go. After all, everything must be taken care of.

MEN, MINORS DNI

"Everything must be taken care of, before you have any respite."

Heavy are the words of your mother–a renowned biomedical scientist in her time before she met her unfortunate end in Raccoon City.

Your mother took you to work with her at a young age, showing you the ins and outs of the lab, her research, her progress, and her data the moment you were finally capable of comprehension. She made you take STEM as a pre-med course, specifically biochemical engineering. With her name known across the world, you were given a full ride to a scholarship at the most prestigious universities in the city.

It didn't take long for your peers and mentors to realize you have the same talent and intelligence as your mother.

It felt empowering, of course.

You were saving lives, just like your mother, and the talent too!

Indeed, saving lives at the expense of ruining your own.

What a passionate way to die.

The world suddenly fell on your shoulders when the news of your mother not making it during the infamous Raccoon City incident made it to you–just days after you finished your internship with one of her trusted colleagues as your mentor–and her attorney informed you that she had left all of her assets in your care.

That includes her unfinished research manuscript, her lab notes, medical journals, and unorganized data.

Oh, what do you do?

Your knees wobbled as you set foot into her office, where most of her things were moved with the help of the family attorney and her trusted friends. Your thoughts raced, causing your forehead to heat up as you force yourself to go through her things just to know where to start–how to start.

Your mother was overly critical of you–she had a reputation to keep. Low grades and a bad track record were a sign of failure in her eyes, and in return, she'd lecture and vent to you about her frustrations in the lab.

Oh, you're having a difficult time at a single subject? What more if you're finally in my shoes, hm?

Tired? Ridiculous! Everything must be accounted for–must be taken care of, even if it meant dragging your body to work.

Even if it meant dragging your body to work.

Her reminders loom over you like a suffocating ghost. Before you can even grieve her passing–you threw yourself to work, just like your mother did; refining vaccines, studying new virus samples (those that your hired men can acquire), and testing for results.

But instead of the empowerment that surged in you before–it feels empty. The achievement that you longed for felt nothing like a chore–and your mother's praises are faint–mixing with the practiced awe of your investors and fellow scientists.

Most of your work proved effective against the virus—so much so that it became highly sought after by the government and private companies alike.

And a few questionable individuals too.

That includes a mercenary who disguised herself as one of the interns in your lab. You caught her scanning a copy of your research for the cure and possible enhancement of the G-virus.

You put her in for questioning–and instead of throwing her to the authorities, you made a transactional relationship with her; you'd pay her to take samples of the virus from her different missions and make a cure, in return, she'd get double the money from different employers.

At first, it was simple. Cold. Uncomplicated.

Ada delivered the virus samples, you worked on the cure, and both of you pretended it was just another business arrangement.

It worked—until it didn’t.

Somewhere along the line, the conversations became longer. The silences became heavier. She started sticking around after a job was done, lingering in the dim glow of your lab, watching you work like she had something else to say but never did.

You ignored it.

She never pried, never asked why you threw yourself into your work the way you did. But the way she watched you—like she saw straight through the walls you built—was unsettling.

You should have known better.

Because when the time came—when she had to choose between you and the people who paid her—she chose you.

That was the first time you realized that, despite everything, you weren’t the only one losing themselves in this arrangement.

And that changed everything.

A small smile graces your lips as a message from Ada glares from your screen.

I'm on my way back with the Amber.

Excellent.

"I'm sure Wesker was less than pleased when you change coarse with the Amber." You mused, days after Ada came back with the said item. The older girl's lips morph to a faint smile as she stands next to you, her arms crossed against her firm chest.

"Wesker has a lot of resources," She turns her head in your direction and tilts her head to the side, "I'm sure he can get new samples elsewhere."

You hum as you examine the stone, "Exquisite," You tear your eyes from the Amber and look at Ada. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, doll." The short-haired woman smirks, "I'll leave you to your work–I know you hate being delayed."

"You know me too well," Your tone cool as Ada leaves the room. On cue, your lips flatten into a line as the mirth swims away from your eyes, becoming dull–empty.

Wonderful. Another chore.

In you're need to start planning your next steps, you fail to notice Ada–who is standing at the entrance of your study–eyes carefully studying your change of expression before walking down the halls of the facility.

Without wasting time–you and your team of proficient biomedical scientist began brainstorming the stone–conducting tests among tests and recording your findings without fail–the Amber held so much potential: a superior form of the Plaga. It didn't take a while for it to become the center of your focus, eating and sleeping became an option–you have so much to work with.

Ada has been observing you, the way your food comes back untouched, your sleep patterns–heck, she even woke up with you not beside her.

And if Ada didn't know any better–have you gotten thinner?

Her brows pinch together–and just as it quickly came, it disappeared.

You tell your team to rest–but you can't apply the same to yourself.

Everything must be taken care of, before you have any respite.

With heavy eyes and a blank face, you type away new data recorded from today's findings. Your wrist feels numb, and your body weighed like lead as your eyes shift from one screen to the next.

Then a familiar, feminine, velvety voice fills your cold, sterile lab.

"It's 4:37 AM,"

Automatically, your brows arch and you swivel your chair to the owner of the voice. There stood Ada, wearing a white-button up shirt and beige tapered trousers.

"And?" You mused.

"You're supposed to be sleeping next to me."

Your eyes scan her outfit, "What an odd set of pajamas." You comment with a small smile. A hum reverberates form Ada's chest, her eyes smoothly move to your desk.

"And I see that you didn't touch your food. Again." Her eyes narrow as she takes slow, measured steps towards you. Pink blossoms in your cheeks–nothing extravagant—just a simple meal. You don’t need to ask who left it.

"You're making a habit of watching me, Ada." You mutter, looking away from the older woman. She smirks, using one hand to grasp your chin, coaxing you to look at her.

"Hard not to when you're wasting away."

"I have work..." You trailed off as her expression sharpens–stern.

"And you'll be no use to anyone if you collapse." She lets go of your jaw and takes the fork, stabbing the meat with it before handing it to you. "Eat, doll."

You blink at her, "But–"

She raises a brow.

The air between you hums with tension, silent yet deafening. Ada doesn't waver, her hand steady as she holds out the fork. You recognize the challenge in her gaze—one she doesn’t need to voice. You could ignore her. Dismiss her with a sharp remark and go back to your research. That’s what you would have done before.

But the weight of her stare is different this time.

Reluctantly, you take the fork from her fingers, avoiding her gaze as you take one bite. Then another. The taste is nothing special, but the way Ada leans against the desk, arms crossed, watching you with quiet satisfaction–it was almost irritating.

"Happy?"

The former smirks, but there's a mellow gleam in her eyes. "Ecstatic."

She doesn’t push you to eat more. Doesn’t hover or pry. Just lets you go at your own pace before pushing off the desk.

"Sleep after you're done eating."

A scoff leaves your lips. "I have work to do."

Ada tilts her head, studying you with something unreadable. "Right. Of course you do."

She turns, walking toward the exit—but pauses at the doorway. Over her shoulder, she adds, "Don’t make me force you."

And then she’s gone.

Days pass. Weeks.

Ada watches. She doesn’t hover, doesn’t nag—but she sees everything.

The untouched meals. The way your hands shake slightly when you reach for a pen. The increasing number of empty coffee cups cluttering your desk. The dark circles under your eyes, like shadows carved into your skin.

You're burning out, and you don’t even notice.

Ada does.

She notices when your fingers tremble as you type. When you blink a second too long, as if fighting the urge to collapse on the spot. She notices when you stand too fast, your vision tilting, and you grip the edge of the desk just to steady yourself.

And then, one night, it happens.

You don’t remember falling—only the sharp sensation of your knees hitting the floor, the rush of dizziness swallowing you whole. A sound escapes your lips, something between a gasp and a curse, but before your body can fully crumple—

Ada is there.

Lithe arms catch you before you hit the cold tile. A firm grip steadies you and through the haze clouding your vision, you hear her voice, lower than usual.

"That's enough."

Your head is spinning. You don’t fight when Ada pulls you up, guiding you towards the couch in the corner of your study. You’re not sure when she sat down, only that you’re suddenly leaning against her, the warmth of her presence pressing into your side.

You hate how comforting it feels.

"You’re overworking yourself," Ada states, voice unreadable.

You huff, though it lacks bite. "That’s nothing new."

Ada is silent for a moment, then:

"This isn’t just about the research, is it?"

Your breath catches.

She’s too close. Not physically—though, yes, she is—but she’s too close to seeing through you. Through the carefully constructed walls, through the weight of your mother’s expectations still coiled around your throat like a noose.

Ada exhales, her voice softer than before. "You can’t outrun her."

Your fingers clench into the fabric of your sleeves. You don't answer.

Ada doesn't push.

She simply sits there, allowing the silence to settle—offering her presence without demand. Without pressure.

Ada doesn't move for a while. Neither do you.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. You can feel her presence—steady, unmoving—like a quiet force refusing to let you spiral any further.

You close your eyes for just a second. Just a second.

And then—

You wake up.

The dim glow of your study lamps is gone, replaced by the soft flicker of the emergency lights. The air is still. Quiet. The weight against your back is warm, solid—Ada.

You realize with slow clarity that you’ve fallen asleep against her.

Your mind is sluggish, torn between the rare, unfamiliar comfort of rest and the immediate need to get back to work. You shift slightly, only for Ada’s arm—wrapped loosely around your waist—to tighten.

"Don’t even think about it."

Her voice is smooth, carrying no room for argument. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her—eyes closed, looking impossibly at ease, as if she had all the time in the world.

"How long was I out?" you murmur.

Ada hums, opening one eye. "Longer than you usually allow yourself. Not long enough."

A flicker of annoyance sparks in your chest. "I don’t have time for—"

Ada clicks her tongue, and suddenly, she’s shifting—her arm unwinding from you as she gracefully rises to her feet. The warmth you didn’t realize you were clinging to vanishes.

Fine. If she’s going to leave, that’s—

Your thoughts halt when Ada leans down, placing her hands on the couch—caging you in.

"You’re coming with me," she says, voice smooth as silk but carrying an edge that dares you to refuse.

Your brows furrow. "Excuse me?"

Ada tilts her head, smirking slightly. "You heard me."

She grabs your wrist—not tightly, but firmly—and pulls you up before you can protest. Your legs, still weak from exhaustion, stumble slightly, and Ada steadies you without effort.

"Ada—"

"You need air," she interrupts, her tone final. "A break. And before you start whining about time, I already handled the lab reports for the night. Your little research team will survive without you for a few hours."

You blink. "You—what?"

Ada smirks, guiding you toward the door. "I have my ways."

You stare at her, skepticism laced with something else—something almost like reluctant gratitude.

Ada catches it. Of course she does.

She simply tilts her head toward the exit. "Let’s go, doll."

For once, you don’t fight her.

The low hum of the car engine is the only sound between you. The city lights flicker past, painting streaks of gold and red across the tinted windows.

Ada drives without hurry, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift. She hasn’t said much since she pulled you out of the lab, but she doesn’t need to.

You exhale, leaning against the cool glass. "Where are we going?"

Ada glances at you from the corner of her eye, smirking. "Somewhere you can’t escape from."

Your lips twitch. "That so?"

"Mm." She shifts gears smoothly. "You need rest. I’m making sure you get it."

You huff, but there’s no real bite behind it. Maybe a part of you is too tired to fight.

Or maybe a part of you wants to be taken care of for once.

The night air is cool against your skin, but the warmth pressed against your back is unmistakable. Ada.

You don’t remember how she convinced you to stop working for the night, or how you ended up lying in bed with her, tangled in soft sheets. All you know is that her arms are around you, one resting against your stomach, the other tucked under the pillow you share.

Her breath fans against your neck—slow, steady. Unlike you, she seems completely at ease.

You shift slightly, and Ada’s hold tightens just enough to keep you from slipping away.

"You’re still tense," she murmurs, voice low, husky from the quiet.

You scoff. "Habit."

"Bad one," Ada counters, her lips barely brushing your shoulder. "I can think of better ways to relieve stress."

Her fingers trail down your arm, featherlight, before slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Your breath catches as her fingertips graze your skin, drawing slow, deliberate patterns along your waist.

"Ada—"

"Hm?" Her tone is innocent, but the way her nails drag lightly against your skin is anything but.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch the mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You planned this," you accuse.

Ada smirks. "Would you have stopped me if I did?"

You hate how easily she gets under your skin—how the warmth of her touch makes your body betray you.

The way her lips graze the curve of your jaw—soft, teasing—before she bites down just enough to make you shiver.

You don’t answer.

You don’t need to.

Because when Ada shifts, rolling you onto your back, and pins you beneath her with that knowing smirk—you’re already hers for the night.

Your breath hitches as Ada's hips press flush against you, clothes strewn across the floor . Her fingers dance along your torso, grazing your ribs, the. lower; teasing.

"You're so tense," She murmurs, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Let me fix that."

She shifts, her grip firm as she tilts your hips just enough for her to roll against you, slow, deliberate. Heat coils low in your stomach, and you barely suppress a gasp as her cock rubs snuggly against your walls. Your lover chuckles, voice rich in amusement. "See? You don't have to do anything, doll. Just let me do the work."

Your body betrays you, instinctively meeting her hips, craving more.

"That's my girl," She whispers, her voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. Her hands tightens on your hips, and you fele her smirk against your skin.

"Let's see just how much you can take."

She guides your hips, both of you gasping as her pace is agonizingly slow. The tension pulls taut. Deliberate, controlled, taking her time as she fucks you, her movements slow and deep.

Each movement makes pleasure coil tighter and tighter in your core, and Ada knows it. She watches you unravel beneath her, eyes locked on your every reaction. "You love this, don't you?" She taunts, rolling her hips just right, pulling a broken moan from your lips. "Being under me like this, being taken."

Your body trembles, eyes rolling back as your hands grip at her back, nails scratching along her skin as the pleasure builds to unbearable levels.

"Baby–please," You whimper, desperate, your body arching into hers.

The older girl chuckles, her hands sliding up your thighs, gripping your waist as she picks up the pace, thrusting into you with more force, driving deeper. The cacophony of your moans and her groans mixes with the creaks and whines of the bed.

"Say it," She demands, lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me you're mine."

"Yours," You gasp, barely able to breathe. "I'm yours, Ada."

She groans, her rhythm turning rougher, faster, chasing her own release as she takes you apart, the veins on the ridges of her cock rubbing deliciously against your walls while the tip kisses your cervix, eliciting a yelp from you. Pleasure crashes over you, your entire body tensing, and Ada drives into you, pushing you past your limit–until you're crying out her name, clinging to her as waves of euphoria pulse through you.

Ada follows soon after, burying herself deep, her own release hitting as she moans against your throat, her fingers digging into your hips, holding you still as ropes of cum floods your walls, some even oozing out of your folds and down to the sheets. She watches the way you tremble, her smirk returns as she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your lips.

"Good girl,"

And just like that, you knew–she isn't done with you yet.

Your body trembles, broken moans and whimpers leave your lips, legs weak and spread open, slick with heat and sweat. She's still inside you, half-hard, twitching against your walls. Your cry out, nails dragging down her back, feeling the way she stretches you all over again, this time with less restraint.

"That's it," She moans lowly, thrusting her hips until there's nowhere left to go. "Take all of me, pretty girl. Just like before."

The ecstasy is almost too much–your pussy still sensitive from the first round but Ada doesn't slow down.

Plap, plap, plap, plap!

The bed creaks, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, and all you can do is cling to her, let her take everything she wants from you. "Mine," She breathes into your ear, her voice dripping with possession.

Your moans swallowed by her kisses as she pounds into you, pushing you higher and higher towards your breaking point. "You'll take everything I give you." Ada growls, gripping your hips, holding you still as she pistons her hips even deeper.

Then, you feel it–the heat, the pressure, the way she stiffens inside you.

Your lover groans, burying herself to the hilt, filling you with viscous ropes of semen, her balls tighten as it slaps against your ass. She stays like that, breathing heavily, enjoying the way your body shudders beneath her, taking everything she has to give.

"Y-you didn't even pull out." You blink at her, dazed, breath ragged.

A cold smile graces Ada's lips. Unapologetic.

"Of course not," She murmurs, dragging her fingers down your stomach, pressing lightly over your womb. "Why would I? You look good like this." She leans down, nipping at your bottom lip, her hands still possessively tracing your lips, before she moves her hips again, rubbing against your puffy folds.

"A-Ada–wait, I-I can't–" You gasp, trying to pry her hips away, but her hands grip your thighs, keeping them spread.

"Oh, baby–I'm not yet down with you."

Her hips press forward, the tip kissing the spongey spot of your walls, making you see stars–your back arches.

"You can take more," She murmurs, kissing down your neck, her hands roaming around your body possessively. "You will take more."

Before you can protest, her knees plant firmly against the sheets as she plows into you, deeper, harder.

Stretching, filling.

Broken moans leave from your lips as your back arches–another choked cry escaping your lips. She's bigger, harder this time–more desperate, more demanding as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall.

"You feel that?" Ada groans, jutting her hips, stealing another moan from you.

"Still so tight–still squeezing me like you don't want to leave."

You whimper, your body is too sensitive, too overwhelmed–Ada doesn't stop. She sets a relentless pace, her thrust deep, hard and void of mercy.

"Look at you, so fucked-out already. But you'll take everything I give you, won't you?" She breathes, watching your eyes lose and your lips open.

So helpless.

"You're mine, inside and out."

Your moans turn into whimpers, gasps, pleas—but it only fuels her more. Ada is insatiable, unrelenting, making you take her over and over again, until you’re nothing but a shaking, overstimulated mess beneath her.

She guides your legs around her hips, pulling out.

A whine leaves your lips before it morphs into a filthy moan with another sharp thrust into your cunt, another nasty squelch echoing into the air–sex and perfume wafts in the room. She slumps against you, pressing her soft chest against your sensitive ones, moving her lips purposefully to the crown of your ear and tugging a bit of your skin in between her teeth.

Your body was hot against hers. Your walls throb deliciously throb around her. Ada's eyes flutter close before she sinks her teeth into your skin.

"A-Ada–fuck!" You sob as she angles precisely into you.

"Nghh–I know, doll." Ada throws her head back, relishing the obscene sound of flesh against flesh.

Plap, plap, plap!

Oh, it's a sound you and Ada never get tired of.

You've already lost your mind beneath her–fucking you to a state of overstimulation, being bred full of her semen.

"You look so beautiful," Ada huffs as she jogs her hips, her pace is shallow to the point that she isn't pulling out anymore.

She grabs the headboard, fucking you into the sheets. The older woman grits her teeth, your mixed fluids being fucked out of your beaten walls, making a mess beneath your legs. Her balls slap against the curve of your ass, heavy with potent seed.

"Mghmm, cumming." Your lover whines, "Cum on my cock, doll–nghh, I want to feel you."

Your eyes roll back again as a strong gush of fluid exits your pussy, coating Ada's cock and her balls. Ada groans, nuzzling her cock into you as she fucks you into overstimulation before she finally stills her hips, shooting ribbons of her seed in you, painting your walls warm and white.

Your mixed essence oozes out, your mind filled with cotton and your body is heavy while Ada looks energized, watching your blissed out state.

"Once I know you're pregnant–I'm putting you on maternity leave." She murmurs.

A promise.

A threat.

And for once, you didn't fight against it.

#ada wong #ada wong x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #i'm just a girl #resident evil x you #oneshot #wlw post #wuh luh wuh #sapphic #wlw #fem reader #female reader #yuri

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badathumanemotions · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, I really liked your Elle x reader fics. Is there a possibility for you to write another one. Maybe one where the reader is new to the team and to get to know the team better they go for drinks and the reader ends up hooking up with Elle?

Chasing the Spark

Elle Greenaway x Reader

MDNI Masterlist Category: Smut CW: BAU Reader, Flirting in the Workplace, Bar, Oral Sex, Fingering, Strap On, Vaginal Sex, Aftercare. WC: 8,966 Figured this was a good way to ring in the new year.

(Not Proof Read)

The stark fluorescent lights of the BAU office bathed the room in a cold, artificial glow as you took your first tentative steps into the bullpen. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, each beat echoing in the quiet hum of the air conditioner. You had studied the faces of your soon-to-be colleagues in your briefing materials, but now, as you looked at them in person, you realized you hadn't truly prepared for the weight of their expectations. You were the new kid on the block, a freshly minted agent ready to tackle the darkest recesses of the human psyche.

Agent Hotchner's office loomed ahead, his nameplate gleaming in the sterile light. As you approached, you couldn't help but feel the eyes of the group in the bullpen on you. They whispered in hushed tones, all the while casting sly glances in your direction. You wondered if they were sizing you up, trying to gauge what kind of agent you would be. Would you be the eager pupil, eager to learn from their years of experience? Or perhaps they saw you as competition, a new face threatening to outshine their well-earned reputations?

With a deep breath, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door. "Come in," Hotchner's firm, yet measured voice called out. You pushed the door open and stepped into his office, the scent of leather and old books enveloping you. The office was organized, files were neatly stacked on his desk along with a framed picture of his family, a reminder of the lives that hinged on the work done here.

"Agent…" he began, looking up from his paperwork, his eyes scanning over you before his face broke into a professional smile. "Welcome to the BAU. I've read your file. Impressive background." He gestured to the chair opposite his desk. "Please, take a seat."

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you through the window of the office. He turned to Reid, who was flipping through a stack of files with the intensity of a scholar in a library. "So, what do you think about our new addition?"

Reid's eyes snapped up from the paperwork, a look of surprise flitting across his face. "The new agent? I haven't had the chance to meet her yet. From what I've read, she's got quite the background in psychology. Should be an asset to the team." His voice held a hint of curiosity as he spoke, but his eyes remained glued to the case files before him.

Morgan's smirk grew as he nodded in your direction. "You should say hello. I think you two might hit it off." He winked at Reid, who rolled his eyes playfully, but didn't miss a beat in his work.

Reid’s disinterest in the conversation was clear, but Morgan wasn’t one to let a moment go by without stirring things up a little. With a mischievous grin, he leaned back in his chair and turned his attention to Elle. "So, Elle," Morgan said, his voice deliberately light. "What do you think of our new recruit?" He motioned toward the new agent with a nod, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

Elle looked up from her computer screen, her eyes meeting Morgan's. She had noticed the new agent too, the way her heart had fluttered when your eyes first met. It was a sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time, not since her days in the academy, and it caught her off guard. "From what I've heard," she began, her voice smooth as silk. "She's got an excellent track record. Should be interesting to see how she handles the fieldwork."

Morgan's smirk remained as he leaned back in his chair. "Interesting indeed," he murmured. "But you know what I mean, Elle." He nudged her lightly with his elbow, his eyes glinting with mischief. "How do you think she'll fit in with the team dynamics?"

Elle's eyes narrowed slightly, and she gave Morgan a look that was a clear warning not to push his luck. "As a professional unit, she'll fit just fine," she replied curtly, her tone leaving no room for further speculation.

Morgan chuckled, recognizing the subtle rebuke. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting to the new agent sitting in Hotch's office. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that he wouldn't get to stir the pot. But he knew better than to push it with Elle. Her focus was unwavering, and she took her job—and her team—seriously.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork, his eyes meeting yours as he stood up, gesturing for you to do the same. "Come," he said, his voice a gentle command. "Let me introduce you to the team."

As you followed him out of the office, you felt the weight of his hand on your shoulder, guiding you down to the bull pen. The murmurs grew louder as the team looked up from their screens and papers to acknowledge your presence. You could feel the electricity in the air as you approached, a mix of curiosity and challenge.

"Everyone," Hotch said, his voice even and professional. "This is the newest member of the team. She's joining us as a behavioral analyst. She comes highly recommended, and I expect you all to help her settle in."

He gave a small pause before continuing, his gaze moving from person to person as he made the introductions.

"This is Agent Derek Morgan," Hotch said as you stepped closer to the desks. Morgan looked up, his eyes locking with yours. This time, his smile was unmistakably flirty, and it made your cheeks flush. He had a certain charm about him, a magnetism that was palpable even across the room.

Morgan stood up, a teasing smile spreading across his face as he approached you. He extended his hand with a wink, his voice warm but playful.

"Well, look at you," he said, his tone light and joking. "Derek Morgan, but you can call me Morgan—everyone does." He gave her a quick, confident shake, his grin never fading. "I have a feeling you're gonna fit right in here. And if not, I’ll make sure to show you the ropes."

He stepped back, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "But seriously, don’t be surprised if I end up being your favourite teammate. It’s just kind of how I roll."

JJ stands up with a warm smile, her eyes immediately friendly and welcoming. She extends her hand toward you, her grip firm but kind. “Hey there,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can just call me JJ.”

You shake her hand, and she continues with a reassuring smile. “Welcome to the team. If you ever need someone to talk to—whether it's about a case or just to grab a coffee and chat—I’m your girl.”

Her tone is comforting, making it clear she’s someone you can rely on. “I’m really looking forward to working with you."

Reid glances up from the file in his hands, his expression shifting from focused to slightly startled when he notices you. He stands quickly, his movements a bit awkward as he nods in your direction. “Oh, hi,” he says, his voice soft and earnest. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, but you can just call me Reid. Everyone does.”

He hesitates for a moment, as if unsure what to do with his hands, eventually tucking them into his pockets. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you. I read your file—well, not in a weird way, it’s just that Hotch mentioned we’d be working together, so I thought I’d familiarize myself with your background.” Reid pauses, realizing he might be rambling, and quickly adjusts.

He gives you a small, slightly nervous smile before retreating back to his seat, his attention already shifting back to the case file in his hands.

Before you can even process what’s happening, a burst of colour and energy sweeps toward you. “Oh, you must be the new agent!” Garcia exclaims, her voice bright and welcoming. Without hesitation, she pulls you into a tight, cheerful hug, her arms wrapping around you as if you’ve been friends forever.

“I’m Penelope Garcia, resident tech goddess and ray of sunshine,” she announces as she steps back, beaming at you. Her hands rest on your shoulders for a moment as she looks you over. “And can I just say, you have such good vibes already. I can tell we’re going to be besties. It’s fate. Don’t fight it.”

She winks playfully before releasing you entirely, taking a step back with a flourish. “If you ever need anything, whether it’s tech magic, emotional support, or snacks, I’m your girl. Welcome to the BAU!”

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and despite the initial surprise, you can’t help but return her smile. “Thank you, I’m looking forward to working with you all,” you reply, feeling a genuine warmth spread through your chest.

Elle looked up as you approached, her sharp gaze softening ever so slightly. She stood slowly, a confident smirk tugging at her lips, though her heart betrayed her with a quickened beat she refused to show. “So,” she said, her voice smooth and steady, “you’re the one we’ve been hearing about.”

She took a step closer, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. “Elle Greenaway,” she introduced herself, her smirk growing into a sly grin. “And let me tell you something—you’ve got the whole team talking, which means you must be good. But don’t think that means I’m going to go easy on you.”

Her words carried a teasing edge, her tone walking the fine line between challenge and flirtation. She crossed her arms, leaning slightly toward you as if daring you to respond. “Here’s a piece of advice: stick with me, and you might just survive Morgan’s jokes and Reid’s statistics. But only if you can keep up.”

With that, Elle winked and stepped back, her smirk still firmly in place as she turned to sit back at her desk. Her voice lingered in the air, low and confident. “Welcome to the team, rookie.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge. You returned her smirk with one of your own. “I’ll do my best to keep up, Greenaway,” you quipped, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. “But I wouldn’t count on being the only one to throw surprises around here.”

Elle’s eyebrow quirked up in surprise, her expression shifting from playful to intrigued. She studied you for a moment longer than the others, as if trying to see into your mind. Then, she nodded slowly, a hint of respect shimmering in her gaze. “We’ll see about that, rookie.”

The introductions concluded, the team members returned to their respective desks, diving back into the sea of paperwork and case files that awaited them. The air in the bullpen grew quiet once again, the only sounds the rustling of pages and the clacking of computer keys. The tension of the moment dissipated, replaced by the familiar rhythm of their work. You took a deep breath, feeling both relieved and energized by the exchange.

"Alright, Reid," Hotch said, his gaze flickering towards you. "Why don't you walk our newest agent through the daily routines?" He handed you a stack of files with a nod, his voice firm but not unkind.

Reid looked up from his paperwork, surprise flashing across his face. "Me?" he questioned, glancing around the room. His cheeks tinged pink at the sudden attention.

"Actually," Elle interjected, her eyes still locked onto yours with a knowing smirk. "I've got some free time. I can show her around." The room fell silent, and every pair of eyes shot towards her, the surprise palpable. But before anyone could object or question her offer, she was already standing.

Hotch's eyebrows shot up slightly, his gaze moving from you to Elle and back again. He hesitated for a moment before giving a single, firm nod. "Very well," he said, his voice betraying no emotion.

Elle stepped forward, her hand brushing against yours as she took the stack of files from your grasp. Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of energy up your arm. She placed them on the desk opposite hers, the space between you now charged with something you couldn’t quite name. The air grew thick with tension, and the whispers of the other agents faded into the background.

"Follow me," she said, her voice low and sultry. It was clear to you that this wasn't her normal behaviour. You were under the impression that she was all business, a consummate professional with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. But there was something about the way she looked at you, something in the way she talked to you, that made you feel like you were bringing something new out in her. It was flattering and slightly intimidating, but you couldn't help the thrill of excitement that bubbled in your stomach.

Elle led you through the maze of the BAU office, her hand lightly resting on the small of your back. It was a gesture that could have been innocent, a way to guide you through the unfamiliar space, but the way her thumb made small, lazy circles against your back suggested something else entirely. You felt her heat, the warmth of her palm radiating through the fabric of your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

The break room was a stark contrast to the bullpen's seriousness—a small, cramped space filled with a mismatched assortment of chairs and a table that bore the stains of countless coffee cups. The fridge hummed quietly in the corner, a sanctuary for forgotten lunches and leftover snacks. She pointed out the coffee maker with a knowing smile. "This will be your best friend and worst enemy," she quipped, her breath tickling your ear.

Moving through the corridor, you caught a glimpse of Garcia's office, a kaleidoscope of colour and personality. The walls were plastered with photos, sticky notes, and random knick-knacks that spoke volumes about her vibrant spirit. "Garcia's domain," Elle said, her voice a mix of amusement and respect. "You'll want to keep on her good side— she's got more access to information than any of us know what to do with."

The next stop was the case file storage room, a place that felt eerily silent compared to the bustle of the bullpen. The room was vast, with rows upon rows of metal shelves reaching up to the ceiling, each holding the dark secrets of cases past.

Elle led you to the back corner, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long, spider-like shadows that danced across the floor. You felt a sudden chill, not from the room's temperature but from the intensity of her gaze. She turned to face you, her body language open but with an undeniable hint of predatory instinct. "So, rookie," she began, her voice low and intimate, "what do you think?"

You met her gaze, a small, confident smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “What do I think?” you echoed, your tone teasing as you leaned slightly closer. “I think the team’s impressive… but you might be the most intriguing part so far.”

Her smirk deepened, a glint of amusement sparking in her eyes, and you could swear the corner of her mouth twitched as if she was trying not to laugh. “Careful, rookie,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying just a hint of challenge. “Flattery only gets you so far around here.”

Elle led you back to the bullpen, her stride unhurried but purposeful. The faint click of her heels echoed through the quiet office, a rhythm you couldn’t help but notice. When you reached the empty desk, she gestured to the files waiting there and pulled out a chair beside it.

“Sit,” she said simply, sliding into the chair next to yours without hesitation. She leaned in close, the faint scent of her perfume reaching you as her shoulder brushed lightly against yours. Her fingers danced over the pages as she flipped through the first file, her movements calm and deliberate.

“You’ll pick this up quick,” she murmured, her voice low, as though the rest of the team wasn’t just a few feet away. Her tone held a casual confidence, but there was an almost magnetic pull in the way she lingered just a little too close. “This part’s where you get to know how things really work around here.”

Her gaze flicked to yours, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Think you can keep up?” she asked, the challenge in her tone unmistakable.

The space between you felt almost nonexistent as she leaned closer, pointing to something on the page but never breaking eye contact for long. It wasn’t just the proximity—it was the quiet intensity of her focus on you, the feeling that she was assessing more than just your ability to follow along.

Every time her hand brushed yours, a subtle tingle spread through you, impossible to ignore. Whether it was the accidental graze of her fingers as she turned a page or the way she leaned closer to point something out, the charge in the air between you was undeniable.

If the rest of the team noticed the overt flirting, they didn’t show it. Morgan, who normally couldn’t resist teasing, remained silent, though you caught his knowing smirk out of the corner of your eye.

Before long, you began to find a rhythm, the paperwork no longer feeling foreign or overwhelming under Elle’s guidance. She leaned back slightly, watching you jot down notes with an approving tilt of her head. “Looks like you’ve got it,” she murmured, her tone still teasing but with a hint of reluctance.

Reluctance that grew as she pushed her chair back, standing slowly and stretching. “Guess my work here is done,” she said, smirking as she gestured toward her own desk. “No more excuses to invade your personal space.”

Her words hung in the air as she walked away, the sway of her stride every bit as confident as when she first approached you. You felt the absence of her presence immediately, the space around you suddenly colder without her warmth so close.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of case files, briefings, and the steady hum of the office around you. Despite the tasks at hand, you found your attention drifting more often than you’d like to admit. A few stolen glances toward Elle caught her watching you in return, her expression unreadable save for the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes.

When she wasn’t looking, you caught yourself smiling at the memory of her earlier teasing, her low voice still echoing in your mind. It was a dangerous distraction, but one you couldn’t seem to resist.

As the clock crept closer to the end of the day, Morgan stood from his desk and clapped his hands together, his booming voice cutting through the office. “Alright, people, let’s wrap it up. And since it’s our newbie’s first day,” he added with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “how about we head out for a drink? Team bonding, you know. My treat.”

JJ and Garcia exchanged excited looks, clearly on board with the idea. Elle leaned back in her chair, her gaze flicking toward you as a smirk tugged at her lips.

“Well, rookie,” she said, her tone teasing as always, “what do you say? Think you can handle a night out with the team?”

You didn’t hesitate before answering. “Sure, sounds like fun,” you said, earning a grin from Morgan and a nod of approval from JJ. Within minutes, the team—minus Hotch and Gideon—was packing up their things and heading toward the elevator.

The group quickly claimed a large booth, Morgan insisting on ordering the first round as everyone settled in.

Elle slid into the booth next to you, her shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space. She glanced your way with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “So,” she said, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music, “think you’ll survive your first team outing?”

Before you could respond, Garcia clinked her glass against yours with an exaggerated cheer. “To our new agent!” she declared, her enthusiasm drawing a few amused laughs from the others.

The drinks flowed easily, and the conversation followed, ranging from lighthearted banter to stories about past cases. Despite the bustling room, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Elle’s presence beside you. She leaned in occasionally, her voice low as she teased you or offered sly comments about Morgan’s antics across the table.

As the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing into the team dynamic. Still, every time Elle’s fingers grazed yours while reaching for her drink or her laugh sounded just a little too close, your pulse quickened. There was an unspoken tension lingering between you, one that neither of you seemed eager to break just yet.

It didn’t take long for Garcia to suggest getting up to dance. “Come on, people!” she exclaimed, already tugging JJ out of the booth. “You can’t just sit there all night like statues!”

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’m in.” He stood and turned to you with a grin. “What about you, rookie? Got any moves?”

You barely had time to respond before Garcia grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the dance floor. Elle followed close behind, her expression amused but with a glint of something unreadable in her eyes.

Reid waved you all off from the booth, his hand casually resting on the table. “I’ll keep an eye on the drinks,” he said with a small smile, clearly more comfortable staying where he was.

The music pulsed around you as the team found their rhythm on the dance floor. Garcia and Morgan were the first to jump right into the beat, their carefree energy contagious. JJ joined in, laughing as Garcia twirled her dramatically.

You felt a presence close beside you and turned to see Elle, her gaze fixed on you with a teasing smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now,” she said, leaning in so her voice carried over the music.

Her words were a challenge, and you couldn’t help but smile as you began to move to the music. The tension between you and Elle seemed to build with every shared glance, every step closer, until the rest of the room started to blur into the background.

Slowly but surely, the two of you started dancing closer and closer, your movements becoming more synchronized with each passing song. The space between you shrank as you leaned into the rhythm, the music urging you forward, and soon enough, you found yourselves pressed a little too close.

Elle’s gaze never left you, her body responding to yours with ease, a playful energy in the way she moved. You could feel the heat of her proximity now, the soft sway of her hips brushing against you, her breath warm against your ear when she leaned in closer.

You couldn’t deny the pull between you, the way the chemistry seemed to spark every time her body came just a little closer. The dance had shifted from playful teasing to something charged, each beat of the music only bringing you two together more. With every movement, the space between you seemed to disappear until you were practically grinding on each other, the heat between you almost unbearable.

Elle’s lips curled into a knowing smile, and she pressed just a little closer, as though daring you to do something about it. You could feel her pulse through the rhythm, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

The heat of the dance floor, the closeness of Elle’s body against yours, it all became too much. You needed a break, a chance to catch your breath and clear your head. Without a word, you excused yourself, making your way through the crowded bar toward the bathroom. Inside, the cool air hit you immediately, a refreshing contrast to the charged atmosphere outside. You leaned against the sink, staring at your reflection, trying to shake the feeling of Elle’s touch still lingering on your skin.

The music felt distant now, muffled behind the bathroom door. You exhaled slowly, willing your heartbeat to slow. But the pull between you and Elle, the tension, was undeniable. You could still feel the weight of her gaze on you, the way she’d moved with you, like there was something between you two neither of you could ignore.

You’d barely stepped back out into the hallway when you saw her—Elle. She was leaning against the wall near the restroom, arms crossed, waiting for you. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable, a silent understanding passing between you as she pushed herself off the wall, taking a slow step toward you.

“Needed a break too?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice gave you away, betraying the rush of adrenaline that had suddenly surged through your veins.

She shook her head, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. “No.” Her voice was low, almost hushed, like she was saying something for just the two of you to hear. “I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The world seemed to still around you, leaving just the two of you standing in the hallway.

Her eyes never left yours as she took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Do you feel it too?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words hung in the air.

You didn’t hesitate. There was no question in your mind. “Yes,” you breathed out, your voice thick with the desire you’d been trying to ignore.

And that was all it took. Her lips crashed against yours in a kiss so desperate, so raw, it was as if you both had been holding your breath for far too long. The kiss was frantic, hungry—nothing like the teasing moments that had come before. Elle’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of you against her. Your hands instinctively slid to her neck, tangling in her hair as you kissed her back with equal intensity.

For a moment, the world outside that small hallway didn’t exist. There was only Elle, her taste, the feel of her body pressed against yours. You were lost in it—lost in the heat of the kiss, the shared longing that had built between you over the course of the night.

When Elle finally pulled away, she was breathless, her lips parted as she looked at you with a hunger that made your pulse spike once more. “Let’s get out of here,” she murmured, her voice low and firm, yet tinged with that same unrelenting desire.

Before you could answer, she was already taking your hand in hers, her fingers locking around yours with an urgency that made your heart race. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. She led you through the bar, past the booths and the flashing lights, her grip on your hand tightening as if she was afraid to let go.

You followed her without question, your own body eager to be wherever she was. You barely registered the bustling noise around you as Elle guided you to the exit, the cool night air hitting your skin as the door swung open.

The city street outside felt different—charged, electric, as if it too could sense what was happening between the two of you. Elle didn’t say a word as she led you down the sidewalk, her steps quick, determined. You kept pace with her, your hand still firmly in hers. You couldn’t remember ever being this in sync with someone, and it was both thrilling and dangerous all at once.

Elle didn’t stop until you reached her place, a small, yet cozy apartment just a few blocks away. As she unlocked the door, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze fierce, challenging, yet filled with something else—something that made your breath catch in your chest.

“After you,” she said, her tone a teasing invitation.

You stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you, and just like that, there was no more hesitation.

In a flash, you were back on each other, kissing as though your very lives depended on it. The need to touch, to explore, was overwhelming. Your hands roamed over her body, feeling the curves and the firmness beneath her clothes, desperate to get closer.

Elle's fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt, the fabric slipping off your shoulders to reveal the softness of your skin. The cool air hit your bare flesh, sending shivers down your spine that only added to the heat burning between you. Your own hands were equally busy, tugging at her blouse, eager to feel her bare against you.

As your clothes fell away, so did the last of your inhibitions. You found yourself pressed against the wall, her mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck, each one making you gasp and arch into her. Her teeth grazed your collarbone, sending bolts of pleasure through your body, and you couldn't help but moan, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

Elle’s hands moved to your breasts, cupping them gently before her thumbs began to trace delicate circles around your nipples. You could feel them tighten in response, sensitive and begging for more. She took her time, her eyes laser focused as she watched the effect she was having on you.

Her mouth found your neck, kissing and nipping gently as her hands grew more insistent. Each touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, and you found yourself arching into her, silently begging for her to continue. Her fingers grew bolder, teasing and pinching your nipples until you couldn’t help but moan her name, the sound spilling out into the room.

As if responding to the desperate need in your voice, Elle’s mouth moved lower, her teeth grazing over your collarbone and down the centre of your chest. You could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin as she reached the top of your pants, her deft fingers making quick work of the button and zipper. The fabric parted easily under her touch, revealing the dampness of your panties.

Her eyes locked onto yours, a question in them, and you nodded, unable to speak. She didn’t need any more encouragement. With a smug smile, she dropped to her knees, her hands sliding down your stomach to your hips. The coolness of the floor against her bare legs was a stark contrast to the heat of your skin, and she took a moment to revel in it.

With a quick movement, she tugged your pants and underwear down in one swift motion, the fabric pooling around your ankles. Before you could even catch your breath, her mouth was on you, her tongue sliding against your clit with a hunger that left you gasping.

Her mouth felt like heaven against your pussy, the softness and warmth of her slick tongue making you want more. Without thinking, you widened your stance, pushing your hips down onto her mouth. The sensation was exquisite, and you couldn’t help but let out a low moan.

Elle took her time, exploring every inch of your folds with a hunger that was almost painful in its intensity. She lapped at you, savouring your taste, her tongue flicking and swirling with a skill that had you seeing stars. You could feel the heat building deep within you, a pressure that grew with every stroke of her tongue.

Her grip on your hips tightened as she found your clit, sucking it into her mouth with a groan that vibrated against your sensitive flesh. You threw your head back, your fingers tangling in her hair as you rode the wave of pleasure she was giving you. Her mouth was relentless, her tongue never still, working in a pattern that was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your lower belly that grew tighter with each flick of her tongue. Your thighs trembled, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you held on, trying to keep yourself together.

But it was no use. With one final, firm suck, you came apart on her mouth, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. She didn’t stop, instead swirling her tongue and sucking harder, drawing every ounce of satisfaction from your trembling form. You moaned, the sound echoing through the room, raw and unfiltered.

As the orgasm subsided, your legs gave out beneath you, no longer able to hold your weight. Without missing a beat, she stood, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you upright. You leaned into her, your breathing still ragged and uneven. She smirked, the taste of you still on her lips.

“You good?” she asked, her voice a low purr as she pulled away just enough to meet your eyes. The question was a tease, her knowing smile saying she already had her answer. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure still rippled through your body.

With a gentle nudge, she encouraged you to step out of the puddle of fabric around your ankles. Your legs felt like jelly, but the desire to be fully naked with her was too strong to ignore. You took a deep, steadying breath and reached for the rest of your clothing, peeling it off with trembling hands.

Elle’s eyes never left you, taking in every inch of your exposed flesh. The way she looked at you made you feel powerful, sexy, and incredibly vulnerable. You knew this was just the beginning of something explosive between the two of you.

With a gentle tug, she took your hand and led you through the dimly lit apartment, her confidence guiding you toward her bedroom. The anticipation grew with every step, your heart racing in your chest as the room came into view.

Elle stepped back, giving you a sultry look as she began to strip out of her clothes. Her movements were deliberate, each article of clothing peeled away to reveal more of the taut muscles and soft curves beneath. Her blouse fluttered to the floor, followed by the pants that had hugged her hips so tantalizingly all day. The lacy bra and matching underwear came off next, revealing her breasts and the neat triangle of hair above her sex.

You were mesmerized by the sight of her, your eyes drinking in every detail as if committing them to memory. Her skin was a warm caramel, glowing in the soft light of the room. Her breasts were full and firm, the dark nipples already erect with desire. The way she moved was like watching a panther stalk its prey—graceful and powerful, and you knew she was just as dangerous.

You strode forward, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. Your hands found her hips, pulling her against you as your mouth claimed hers once again. The kiss was deep, needy, and full of promise. Her body was warm and soft against yours, the feel of her skin setting your body alight.

Your hands roamed over her body, exploring the curves and valleys that had been hidden beneath her clothes all day. You felt the muscles in her back tense and release as you traced your fingertips along her spine. Her ass was firm and round in your palms, and you gave it a squeeze, eliciting a low moan from her lips.

Elle's hands were equally busy, running over your naked body as if she couldn’t decide where to touch next. Her thumbs brushed over your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You couldn't get enough of her, the need to feel all of her was like an itch that had to be scratched.

With a gentle push, you guided her backward, her legs buckling as she fell onto the bed. She watched you with hooded eyes, a smouldering look that told you she was just as eager as you were. You didn’t waste a second, getting down on your knees to continue exploring her body with your mouth.

Your tongue traced a path down her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses until you reached the apex of her thighs. You could feel the heat radiating from her, and your own desire was so intense it was almost painful. You spread her legs wider, the scent of her arousal filling the air.

Elle's eyes were dark with lust as she watched you, her breath coming in short, eager gasps. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh before moving to her folds. She was already wet for you, her arousal coating your lips as you tasted her. The flavour was intoxicating, making you want more, and you didn’t hesitate to dive in.

You licked and kissed her clit, feeling it swell beneath your ministrations. The taste of her was unlike anything you'd ever experienced—sweet and salty, a perfect blend that had you salivating for more. Your tongue delved deeper, exploring the warm, wet heat of her pussy. You could feel her tension building, her legs trembling against your shoulders as you worked her body into a frenzy.

Elle’s hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, urging you onward as she grew more and more lost in the pleasure. You felt her thighs tighten around your head, her hips rising off the bed as she met your every touch with an eager thrust. Each stroke of your tongue, every gentle nip of your teeth, was met with a whimper or a gasp that only spurred you on.

You added your fingers to the mix, sliding them into her slick heat with ease. She was so wet, so ready for you, and the feel of her inner walls tightening around you was almost too much to handle. You began to pump in and out, setting a steady rhythm that had her back arching off the bed. Her legs wrapped around your neck, holding you in place as she grew more and more desperate for release.

You could feel the tension in her body, the way her muscles tensed, how her body shook. You knew she was close, so close, and the thought of making her come undone was driving you wild.

Your tongue swirled around her clit, feeling the slickness of her arousal as you worked her closer to the edge. Her grip on your hair tightened, and you took it as a sign to increase the pressure. You added another finger to the mix, curling it upward to hit that sweet spot.

Her hips jolted up, and she moaned out, telling you just how good it felt. The sound was like a symphony in your ears, driving you to push her even closer to the brink. You could feel her muscles tensing, her body begging for release, and it was the most thrilling thing you'd ever experienced.

Elle's thighs tightened around your head as you took her clit into your mouth, sucking hard. At the same time, your fingers curled inside her, pressing firmly against her g-spot. The combination of sensations had her writhing beneath you. You felt her pulse race, her breath quicken, and you knew you had her just where you wanted her.

"Cum for me," you murmured against her wetness, the words muffled but clear in their intent. Her body responded to the command, her hips bucking as you maintained the steady rhythm of your mouth and hand. You could feel her getting closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her.

With a final, desperate whine, she shattered. Her body convulsed under you, her muscles contracting around your fingers as she rode the wave of her orgasm. You kept up your relentless pace, drawing out every last spasm of pleasure until she went slack against the bed, her legs releasing you.

With a satisfied smile, you pulled away, licking your lips clean of her juices. She was a beautiful mess, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The sight of her like that, so utterly satisfied, was enough to make your own desire spike even higher.

Elle wasted no time recovering. She was off the bed in a flash, moving with an animalistic grace that was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were dark with lust as she strode to her dresser.

You watched, panting, as she pulled out a black harness and a duel ended dildo. The sight of her preparing for the next act was incredibly erotic, a silent promise of what was to come.

"I want you bent over, begging for it," she stated, her voice dark and authoritative sending shivers down your spine. She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving yours as she fastened the harness around her hips, adjusting the strap until the dildo pointed straight at you.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied, a thrill of excitement coursing through your body as you positioned yourself on the bed, your hands gripping the edge of the mattress. The anticipation was almost unbearable, your body already aching for the feeling of being filled by her.

Elle approached, her movements deliberate and predatory. She placed herself behind you, the tip of the dildo lightly grazing your folds. You could feel the coolness of the silicone against your sensitive skin. She took a moment to appreciate the view, her hands caressing your ass before one finger dipped down to trace the line of your pussy.

"Please, fuck me, Elle," you begged, the words a desperate plea that hung in the air. The anticipation was a sweet torment, your body quivering with need.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she lined up the dildo with your soaking wet pussy, the tip pressing against your entrance with the promise of what was to come. You felt her hand come down in a gentle but firm grip on your hip, holding you steady as she began to push.

The first inch slid in easily, your body welcoming the intrusion with a needy moan. She went slow, letting you adjust to the feeling of fullness. The each inch brought a deeper moan from your throat, the pressure building. And when she was fully inside you, the dildo stretching you to the brink, you couldn’t hold back the cry that spilled from your lips.

Without warning, she set a brutal pace, her hips slamming into your ass. You felt the force of every thrust, the way she filled you completely, claiming you in a way no one ever had. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth fell open as you tried to process the intensity of the sensation. It was almost too much—almost painful—but you didn’t want it to stop.

You could feel your orgasm building again, a wildfire that threatened to consume you. You held onto the bed for dear life, your knuckles white with the effort of keeping upright. Each time she hit that spot inside you, a bolt of lightning shot through your core, making your toes curl and your vision swim.

"Elle, fuck, it feels so good," you moaned out, the words a desperate mantra that matched the rhythm of her hips. She took your cue, her strokes growing more demanding, more powerful. You felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

Your nipples were on fire, the rough fabric of the sheets below you providing an unexpected source of pleasure. Each time she drove into you, your breasts would brush against the material, sending sparks of sensation shooting straight to your clit. The dual stimulation was almost unbearable, and you found yourself panting and gasping for air, your body moving of its own accord to meet her every push.

Elle noticed the change in your response and took it as an invitation to go harder. Her grip on your hips tightened, her thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. You pushed back into her, greedy for more, your body begging for the release she was building within you.

And with each stroke, Elle was getting her own stimulation from the other end of the dildo. The tip was perfectly positioned against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through her with every thrust. It was a delicious cycle, each of you feeding off the other's passion.

Her hand snaked around your body, reaching down to stroke your clit with a precision that spoke of experience and desire. The sensation was overwhelming—each flick of her thumb was like a spark that set off fireworks within you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tightening with every touch.

"I'm going to cum," she warned, her voice a guttural moan. Her strokes grew erratic, her orgasm taking her over without warning. You felt her body tense, her grip on your hips tightening almost painfully. And then she was coming, her pussy spasming around the dildo.

You could feel her juices coating the toy, making the movements slicker, more intense. She didn’t stop, instead pushing through the peak of her orgasm to keep fucking you, her hips moving with a frenzied need that was both thrilling and a little frightening.

Her strokes grew more erratic, each one hitting that spot inside you that had you teetering on the edge. You could feel your own climax approaching, the tension in your body growing tighter with every thrust.

And then it hit you, like a wave crashing over the shore. Your orgasm washed over you, stealing your breath and making your vision swim. Your legs trembled, and you could feel your juices running down the inside of your thighs, dripping onto the floor beneath you.

Elle didn't let up, riding you through the aftershocks of your climax, her own orgasm still pulsing through her. You moaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and overstimulation, and fell forward onto the bed limply, your body unable to support your weight anymore.

With a satisfied groan, she slipped out of you with a wet sound, the dildo leaving you feeling emptier than you had ever felt before. It was a stark contrast to the fullness and heat that had consumed you just moments ago. You felt a little dizzy, your body still reeling from the intense pleasure she had just given you.

Elle didn’t miss a beat, moving with the grace of a dancer as she stepped out of the harness and walked towards the bathroom. Her bare feet made no noise on the hardwood floor, the only sound in the room the heavy thud of your heart in your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Moments later, she was back with a bottle of water, the condensation beading on the plastic. She placed it on the nightstand before coming closer to you. You were still sprawled out on the bed, your limbs feeling like jelly and your chest heaving. The smell of sex was in the air, a heady scent that seemed to cling to every surface.

With the tender care of a lover, she helped you to sit up, arranging the pillows behind you. Her touch was gentle but firm, different from the fiery passion moments before. The water bottle was placed within your reach, a silent offer to quench your thirst after the intense experience. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you watched her move with an efficiency that spoke of her experience in these matters.

Elle disappeared into the bathroom once again, returning with a damp cloth. She knelt beside the bed, her gaze soft as she took the cloth to your forehead, gently wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed there. The coolness was a welcome reprieve from the heat that still lingered in your skin.

Her eyes then drifted downward, her gaze lingering on the glistening evidence of your shared pleasure between your legs. You watched as she took the cloth and trailed it down your body, her movements tender yet purposeful. As it passed over your sensitive folds, you shivered, the slight touch sending aftershocks of pleasure through your core.

"Sorry," she quietly murmured. You weren't sure if she was apologizing for the intensity of the moment or the mess she'd made of you, but the look in her eyes told you she felt anything but regret.

"It's okay," you managed to croak out. The aftermath of such intense pleasure had rendered your vocal cords almost useless. "Come lie with me."

Elle's eyes lit up with something that could only be described as pure affection as she took your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She tossed the cloth aside and climbed onto the bed with you, her naked body sliding against yours with the same grace she'd shown earlier. You felt a jolt of arousal at the contact, despite the intensity of what had just transpired. It was as if your body hadn’t had enough of her yet.

The room was dark, save for the soft glow of city lights filtering through the blinds, casting shadows on the walls. You lay there beside Elle, both of you still catching your breath, the air between you thick with the weight of what had just happened. The tension that had built between you all night had finally unraveled, but now that it was gone, you were left with a strange sense of stillness.

Elle’s body was warm beside yours, the steady rise and fall of her chest calming, but you couldn’t shake the nagging question that lingered in your mind: Where do we go from here?

You turned slightly on your side, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at her. She was on her back, staring at the ceiling, her hair splayed out across the pillow, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, but it was heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Elle’s fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch, as if she was still trying to figure out what had just happened between you both. Her voice was soft, almost like she didn’t want to break the quiet. “You okay?” she asked, her eyes meeting yours, her expression unreadable.

You nodded slowly, but inside, your mind was racing. You hadn’t expected things to go this far, this quickly, but now that they had, you found yourself wondering if it had been a mistake—or something more. Was this just a one-time thing, a spark that had fizzled out as quickly as it ignited? Or was there something real between you?

“I’m good,” you replied, but the uncertainty still lingered in your chest. “Just… thinking.”

Elle turned her head to face you, her lips curving into a soft, almost knowing smile. “I get it.” Her hand moved to rest on your hip, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. It was soothing, but there was an intensity in her touch that matched the storm swirling inside you. “I didn’t expect tonight to turn out like this either. But… I’m not sorry.”

The words came out casually, but there was a deeper meaning there, something more serious than the playful, flirtatious tone she often used. You could see it in her eyes—the way she looked at you, not with the usual teasing smile, but with something more raw.

You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure what you wanted yet, but there was no denying the connection between you. It was undeniable, the way you fit together, the way your chemistry sparked and thrived when you were close.

Elle seemed to sense the hesitation in your silence. She shifted, leaning up on one elbow to mirror your position. “Hey,” she murmured, her gaze softening as she brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “No pressure, okay? We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Her words were a balm to your nerves, easing the tension in your chest, but the question still lingered. What now?

The bed felt impossibly small, and you both seemed to gravitate closer, your faces just inches apart, the closeness making everything else feel distant. “So… what do we do?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elle’s smile returned, small and teasing, as she reached forward to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “We take it slow,” she said, her lips curling into a grin. “No need to rush anything. Just… see where it goes.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the tension between you ease even more. Maybe you didn’t have to have all the answers right now. Maybe taking it slow, letting things unfold naturally, was the best way forward.

She leaned in just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, a soft, lingering gesture that spoke volumes without saying a word. "We'll figure it out," she whispered against your skin, her warmth seeping into you, grounding you in the moment.

And for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again

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