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void-wolfie · 1 year

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How'd You Do That?

summary: you have a panic attack right before your first premiere. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: panic attack, my terrible writing (let me know if I need to add anything)

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is one of the rare times where I can say it took me so long to get to a request because I had too many ideas. I was watching my favorite show the other day and they use this idea and I couldn't stop thinking of a Jenna x R scene with it (bonus points if you know what show it's based off of)

*disclaimer; please don't use this tactic to stop a panic attack, it could actually make things worse. I only wrote it like this because it's fiction and cute.

"You did it, kid,"

Those were the first words out of your dad's mouth when he called you.

You did it.

The words bounced around in your head, filling you with excitement and dread. There was a pit in your stomach, and you had the urge to puke, you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You did it.

That was a year ago, news had just gotten out that you'd be in a new summer film, set to co-star with none other than Miss Jenna Ortega herself. At the time, you were a no-name actor. You'd been in a few small things here and there, a few supporting roles. But you were nothing compared to the young sensation herself.

You'd gotten a rocky start; you were an anxious mess at the start of filming. But who wouldn't be when they were sitting so close to their celebrity crush.

Somewhere along the way, the anxiety faded. She wasn't The Jenna Ortega anymore; she was just Jenna. She wasn't the actress you'd been looking up to since the start of your career, but a pretty girl with a million freckles and a love of dad jokes. She became your best friend. The girl you'd call at one am to confess all your worries to, the girl who'd call you every day and made sure you ate because sometimes you'd forget, the girl who didn't know a lick of Spanish yet could still pull off the most amazing accent, and the girl you would text first thing every morning.

You sat in the car, wringing your hands nervously.

You were supposed to get out of the car five minutes ago, but you couldn't. Your legs felt like Jello and your vision was spinning just a bit.

All that filming and it was finally the moment of truth. The day of the premiere. Would people like you? Would they like the movie? What if your acting was terrible? You'd never been to a premiere like this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? Or-

You were freaking out. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, erratically beating in your chest. It felt like someone had knocked the air out of you, squeezing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe. And your hands; they were clammy and cold, yet somehow also hot, and they wouldn't stop shaking.

Jenna was sitting next to you in the car, tinted windows hiding the two of you from the sea of flashing cameras outside. She had been through her fair share of premieres. She knew what to expect, she knew how to act and what to do. You on the other hand, you'd never been to one. She'd been watching you with worried eyes all day, watching as your anxiety built as the day went on.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," She grabbed your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers. She'd hoped the physical contact might help calm you, but it didn't seem to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flitted down to your hands interlaced with Jenna's, her black nail polish contrasting against her tan skin.

Being close to Jenna always made you feel better, yet it didn't seem to be helping this time.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, crippling you from the inside out. Your throat squeezed a little tighter as if you weren't struggling to breathe enough already.

"I'll be right there with you the whole time, ok?" She squeezed your hands reassuringly, but it didn't do anything to quell the raging storm inside.

Your eyes traveled back to the window. The flashing lights, the reporters circling like ravenous vultures, the way the other actors were already out there making everything look so easy while you were in the midst of a breakdown... It was too much...

Your breathing got a little more ragged, shallow uneven breaths wracking your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on just trying to calm down.

Jenna's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, watching the way your chest heaved and hands squeezed hers tighter. It only took her a few seconds to figure out what was happening, she wasn't any stranger to panic attacks.

"Breathe with me. In and out," She exaggerated her breathing, trying to encourage you to slow your own, "In and out,"

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of not being in control of something as simple as breathing made you panic even more.

"I- I can't-"

"Hey, look at me," you felt her finger under your chin, tilting your face to look at her. But you made sure to keep your eyes shut. You didn't want to look into those big brown eyes and show her just how vulnerable you were, you'd rather suffocate.

"y/n, please," her voice cracked ever so slightly, composure dropping for just a split second. She was worried about you. Worried about how you were spiraling out of control, and you wouldn't let her help.

Her mind was blank, not sure what to do. She had one idea left, though she wasn't sure if it'd help or make things entirely worse, "I have an idea, do you trust me?"

If this backfired... Well, she didn't want to think about that.

You nodded, still attempting to calm down. Your nerves felt like they were on fire as you struggled to breathe, your heartbeat still thumping loudly in your ears.

A second passed. Then two. You were about to open your eyes to see what bright idea Jenna had when a pair of lips smashed against yours.

The whole world stopped. All you could focus on was the pair of soft lips pressed against yours and the warm hand cupping your cheek.

Wow.

She pulled away and the world stood still.

Everything felt quiet. That nagging voice in the back of your skull wasn't there. The sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears had dimmed. Even the sound of the crowds outside seemed much smaller.

Jenna didn't think her idea would work. But you already seemed a bit better. Your hands had stopped shaking so violently and your breathing had mostly returned to normal.

"y/n?" Now Jenna was the one panicking. What if she just ruined your friendship? She couldn't lose you...

Your mind was strangely quiet for once. And you were only aware of two things. Firstly, wow. Secondly, do it again.

"y/n?" Jenna's voice finally pulled you from whatever trance you were in.

"Would it be wrong, to ask you to do that again?" Your eyes were still closed. Part of you was scared to open them again. What if you opened them and she wasn't there? What if it was all just a dream?

Jenna wasn't sure how to answer that. Would it be wrong? The two of you were coworkers after all. But she didn't really care.

It took her a second to think about what you were asking, and even less than that to throw the question out the window and kiss you again.

It was soft, simple, and sweet. It was everything you could ever ask for from a second kiss.

The minute Jenna pulled away all you could think of was the missing warmth. The way it felt like finding your other half just to be ripped apart.

Silence filled the air, neither of you sure who would speak first.

"How'd you do that?" You finally relaxed, opening your eyes to find her big brown ones looking back, full of concern and adoration.

"Do what?"

"You stopped my panic attack,"

"I read somewhere that getting someone to hold their breath can stop a panic attack, when I kissed you, you held your breath," you couldn't help but notice the small blush spread across her cheeks.

"Did you mean it? Like, did you want to kiss me?"

"Would it be wrong of me to say I did?"

Your eyes lit up. She wanted to kiss you? Does that mean she likes you?

Shouting and cheering from outside caught the attention of you and Jenna, heads darting over to the window to watch the cheering crowds outside; all of them oblivious to what just happened between you and your co-star.

"We have to go, don't we?" You were a bit disappointed. You didn't want to leave the safety of the car, you wanted to talk this out with Jenna.

"Unfortunately," Jenna noticed the pout that took over your features, the way you gripped her hand a bit tighter for comfort, "But I'll be right there the whole time, ok? And we can even leave early if you want."

You nodded, still not exactly happy to be going, but going with Jenna was better than going solo.

Jenna pushed open the car door. Instantly flashing lights and people calling yours and Jenna's names filled the air. You could feel the anxiety bubbling up again. But just as quickly as it started, it went away. Jenna's hand gave yours a little squeeze, reminding you she was right there.

#jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #void-wolfie

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translatemunson · 3 months

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when my depression works the graveyard shift • ttfd

chapter five of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, struggles with depression and anxiety, intrusive thoughts, reader is definitely not having a good day (but she'll be fine)

It was a bad day. Actually, more like a fortnight of bad luck, headaches and terrible days. You were running behind your PhD schedule, probably risking an extra semester or two to take all the obligatory classes. Your shifts were taking everything from you. Major events were terrible, but when the whole floor was focused on three pile-ups on major roads, two major fires and one minor power outage because of an illegal truck snapping all of the power wires instead of one major event, the overload of information was the first symptom of burnout. You’d leave your table and work all over the area and the white board to give the best instructions and estimates for your colleagues. But in the end of the shift, the feelings of mission accomplished would be turned into stratospheric levels of exhaustion.

No surprise you were worn off to the bone. Your place was a mess, you were too tired to cook and you stopped ordering take outs two nights ago — maybe three, you couldn’t tell —, you couldn’t sleep for more than three hours in a row because closing your eyes meant being close to reliving the last few days in form of nightmares. With the curtains closed, you couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.

When someone knocked on your door, they were lucky you were in the kitchen, drinking some water before going back to bed for the night. Or day. Not sure of it anymore.

“Brains. Open the door. Maddie is worried.”

And of course it was him.

“I told her I’m fine. Go away, Buckley.” You closed yourself inside your blanket.

“C’mon. You haven’t left your place since wednesday. What is going on?”

“Nothing. Leave me alone.”

You got closer to the door, hoping to hear him walking away, back to his own place, just down the hall.

“Ok, you know I can use the balconies to get in there, right?”

“Have you heard of trespassing?”

“I’ll say you were in danger. Also, I’m a firefighter.”

“I don’t care. Leave. Me. Alone!” You punctuated your words with the pauses. He had to get the clue and get the hell out of there, before things started to get too messy.

“Hey, I really have no idea what’s going on with you,” he kept his voice low this time, “but everyone noticed you didn’t show up to family lunch, didn’t reply, even skipped Hen’s birthday celebration. You better open this door, or I’ll find my way inside your place.”

“I’m gonna call 9-1-1.”

“And tell them what?”

“That there is an annoying firefighter at my place, threatening to risk his life to commit a felony. Goodbye, Evan!”

All that talking made your legs feel like jello. You slowly slid to the floor just right beside the door, holding your remaining pieces together. With all the curtains drawn closed, and lights off, you were starting to find the floor a little too much more comfortable than your bed.

“Hey, Brains. I’m concerned about you. Can you please open the door and let me check if you’re ok? I promised I’ll be in and out very fast, and I’ll tell everyone not to worry.” It felt like he was, even on the other side of the door, so close. “Please. I don’t wanna be the one having to take down the door to rescue your dead body.”

“I’m not dead, asshole.”

“Not right now.” You could hear him smirking as he spoke. “I promise I’ll get out of your hair, for now. Open the door, please.”

You lifted your arm to reach the door key and turn it. “Give me a second,” you requested as you moved your legs away from the door. He waited for your signal to open it.

“I don’t care if your place is messy. You should’ve seen mine after the tsunami, I had no energy to do anything.” He entered your place too focused on everything else to notice you were right beside him. “Brains?” He called once he didn’t find you standing.

“Down here, Buckley.”

Buck was on his knees the moment he saw you were on the floor, asking you “Are you hurt? Do you feel anything?”

He looked around your place: maybe not messier, but a lot darker than his own. He removed the blanket from your shoulders, checking for any visible wounds or anything that would potentially kill you.

“Have you eaten today? Any water?” For sure the first responder’s instinct would kick in as fast as a racing car.

“You got your proof of living, now leave.” You turned your head, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Don’t make me bring Hen all the way here to check on you. Food?”

“Don’t remember. But I just drank water.” You weakly pointed to the empty cup.

“Good, but you should save your energy.” He gave you two pats in your leg. At this point, you’re not even sure if he’s still checking for injuries or just making sure you are still made of bones and tissues, not just some ghost. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Annoying neighbor wouldn’t leave me alone.” You smirked.

“Not funny. I’m gonna take you to the couch, ok?”

Your eyelids were starting to get heavier by the minute. You gave him a nod, and Buck passed his arms under your back and knees. Maybe it was a bad idea to lay on the floor, now the slightest movement made you sick and weaker. He moved past your dining table, and set you on the couch.

“Do you have any symptoms? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No, no hospital, Buck. I’m just sad. And tired. And probably looking like I was held captive for hours.”

“More like weeks. What?” If you had the energy, you would’ve slapped his arm, but all you could do was roll your eyes at him. “Ok, what do you have in your fridge?”

When the answer to his own question came in the form of an empty fridge — beside two water bottles, a rotten apple and some leftover food you were sure had been there even before the beginning of his nightmare, you saw him put his hands on his hips, wondering what he should do next.

“I’m gonna go to my place, grab something for you. Don’t move, ok?”

“Where else could I go?”

“And I’m taking your keys. As a precaution.” He jiggled them, and your head pulsed. Now a headache? You never wished to disappear that much.

“Whatever!”

He closed the door and left you alone with your wondering thoughts. Well, it wasn’t a surprise you had a full mental breakdown, having a few in the past decade kinda suited your workaholic and overachiever persona. Was it avoidable? Maybe, sure, everything is with a regular sleep schedule, therapy sessions and some ‘I need help’ talks. Were you ready for that? No, not at all.

Your mom was always the first one to clock your “I’m gonna lose my head anytime now” moods, and now she was the last one to know about them. Your dad was always too busy with work to care about those, and being a single child meant there was no one sneaking into your bedroom to check on you. You always fought those alone, you shouldn’t be having trouble pulling yourself out of the slump.

But maybe it was scary this time because it was your first time having one of those after bringing people close to you. Life was lonely during college, your dispatcher coworkers didn’t get too much into your life, you made sure to keep the trouble out of the icebreaker topics when you were on the dating scene.

And now you had the whole 118 crew asking for you, because you were M.I.A. for days, and avoiding them even before that. That for sure was a recipe for a certain firefighter, who just happened to be your neighbor, knocking on your door and dozens of unanswered calls on your phone.

“Gave Chim a call?” You asked Buck as soon as he was back.

“Am I that predictable?”

“My phone rang upstairs, and I bet 20 it’s Maddie.”

“Busted. Ok, I need you to eat this,” he gave you a plate with a slice of bread, “before you eat proper dinner.”

“Ok.”

“I’m gonna…” he pointed to the apartment, a complete chaos. “Small clean up, ok? I just wanna help.”

“Suit yourself, Buckley.”

He opened the curtains, threw the empty takeout bags away, did the dishes and changed your bed sheets. He did all of that while you were your couch, trying to eat the slice of bread without vomiting.

“Do you think you can shower?” He leaned on the railing, checking if you were still on the couch.

“Maybe?”

“Ok, I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

“Already going through my stuff, hm? At least pay me dinner first.”

“Dinner’s gonna arrive any second.” He got down the stairs and stopped in front of you. “Ok, how are we feeling?”

“I can’t eat more than this now. Makes me sick.” You left the plate on the empty seat to your left. He checked it and didn’t look too satisfied with your efforts. “Can you help me get to the bathroom?”

“Sure. Do you think you need a stool or something like that?”

“No, I just need some help to go up.”

“Say no more.” He picked you up, just like minutes ago. As you opened your mouth to complain, he whispered, “Just like you said that day, I’m the muscles”

He carried you, bridal style, to the bathroom upstairs. He got you a chair, just in case you needed a pause. “Scream if you need help, ok?”

“Ok.” Before he left you alone with your thoughts, you called him back.

“I thought you’d prefer some dinner before,” he joked and motioned as if he was implying you needed help with your clothes.

“No, it’s not that. I—thanks, Buck.”

“Anytime, Brains.”

You kept the door a little ajar. Finally getting rid of your pajamas, you opened the shower and enjoyed some freshness. While you were busy taking care of yourself, Buck told you that he’d be finishing cleaning up your apartment. He tried to find the right places for your stuff, got the clothes in the basket, and made the kitchen look pristine. Dinner arrived as you were closing the shower.

You brushed your teeth — couldn’t even remember the last time you did it — and combed your hair. You looked miserable, but that would have to do. Maybe this would convince Buck that you were better. You left the bathroom and walked to your nightstand to get your phone.

“Brains, dinner’s here!” He announced once he saw you moving upstairs. “Wanna eat in bed or…”

You got close to the stairs and froze. No, you couldn’t do it.

“Buck.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He took two steps at a time to reach you as fast as he could. And just in time to wrap his arms around your body, tears and muffled words taking over. “What’s going on, Brains? You can tell me, it’s ok.”

“I’m exhausted. I’m… I can’t take this. I am… failing. Everything.” Your hold tightened around his shirt. “I’m failing my classes. I can’t take the calls without long breaks because even a small complaint makes me cry. My life is a whole mess, and I can’t… I am tired.”

“I promise I’ll stop asking questions. Just… Did anyone hurt you?” You nodded negatively. “Are you having any alarming symptoms?” Same thing. “Do you need help?” A positive nod. “Ok. I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck did actually go somewhere. After helping you sit in bed, your back against the headboard for support, he went downstairs to get you some dinner. He ordered Thai food — some noodles and soup — and brought you more water.

You two sat side by side, and he started telling you about the lastest calls on his shift. A couple went way too hard on experimenting, a car crash with no deaths, a rescue on a cliff. You listened to him quietly, taking small sips of your soup until the bowl was empty. He left your dishes on your bedside table.

“You have been feeling like this since that day, right?” he asked, changing the subject of the conversation. While you were done with your food, he took his time with the cold noodles.

“Yeah, and I didn’t even tried to change things. It was easier to stay on the same track. Look where it led me.” Your hands traced irregular paths on the clean covers. “I’m sorry I made everyone worried. And that I missed Hen’s birthday.”

“It’s ok. They get it, we also have bad days,” he tried to take the guilty off of your shoulders.

“I promise I’ll do better by the morning. I’ll be better,” you repeated those words until they felt real. Because the thought of changing a ruined routine wasn’t enough anymore. Buck could tell you just needed some decent rest, so he let you go quiet, and he didn’t push you for more details.

You hate how you fell asleep too fast, too easily. This close to someone that felt real and human, and not some damn disaster like you were feeling. With one of his arms around you and pulling you closer, his voice talking about something random about his sister, you were too far gone to pay attention.

+++

He noticed when you fell asleep. He thought of leaving you there, but he was too afraid all progress would be thrown out of the window. So he got comfortable in your bed, with you close to his heart, and promised himself he would move to your couch in a few hours. He didn’t want to make things weird, but he managed to kiss the top of your head, very lightly, just so he could know the feeling.

When you woke up the next morning, he was on your couch, and you could barely remember much of anything after he arrived.

a/n: hi loves! how have you been doing? i'll have to admit this is the most self-insert chapter i'll write in my life bc something similar happened to me a few days ago. and it sucks. but i'm fine now. hope you liked this chapter. see y'all soon!

#evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #evan buck buckely #buck fanfiction #evan buckley imagine

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longlivedelusion · 4 months

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Hiker's Delight

Summary: Bucky takes you on a hike. That's it. That's the fic. Boyfriend! Bucky x Reader. Established Relationship.

Warnings: Just fluff and some mentions of post- Hydra trauma, but nothing too crazy. Will proper edit later!

A/N: Quick lil fic I wrote cause I've been just wanting more boyfriend! bucky, domestic life vibes. I need fluffy and comforting energy rn and this is that. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

I make my way up the hill, huffing as I grab onto a nearby rock to pull myself up.

Bucky's behind me, not out of breath at all, the damn super soldier and his stamina and-

"Hey, you doin' ok?" I hear from behind me, Bucky leaning against a nearby rock.

I nod, looking back ahead as I haul myself up. "This is just a bit more intense than I thought, I'll be okay though." I let out another grunt and I push another step. He's stayed behind me the whole time even though I'm going at a snail's pace, according to him I'd probably drop off and get lost if he lead the way.

"You sure you don't want-"

"No. You are not gonna carry me. I'm gonna finish *grunt* this *huff* damn hike with my own two feet."

We pull forward, the slopes getting a bit more steep than I expected, which had me nearly sweating by the time we reached the edge. I looked up at the towering cliff knowing my arms were like jello, but I had to, needed to-

Bucky knelt down and held his hands out, a makeshift lift as he looked up at me. He quirked his brow.

"I can-" I start.

"Stop being stubborn and take the help doll. This cliff is a bit of a bitch, if you can't tell." He said waved his arm at the cliff to make a point.

I don't say anything and just sigh, knowing he was right. No use being overly stubborn about this. I prop my foot in his hands, griping where I could on the rock in front of me before Bucky said "Ready? 1... 2..."

And then I was up, the top of the rock pressed against my stomach as I hoisted myself over the rest of the way. I crawled forward, legs starting to feel a bit like jello now that I was on the ground.

I watched as Bucky followed right after, easily pulling himself over like it was the easiest thing in the world. He stood up with ease, clearly not dealing with same jello legs as I just kind of collapsed on my back and took some deep breaths.

"Ugh, this damn body. Why must it betray me so." My dramatic ass said.

"Because you just went on a pretty intensive hike with barely any training even though I offered to have you train with me for like 2 months."

My noodle arm managed to raise up and wave him off, "Semantics."

He chuckled, taking a seat beside me and brushing the sweaty strands of hair off my face. "Want some water?"

I nod, eyes closed as my breathing stedied, my body starting to relax and calm down from the overexertion. I heard a bottle cap untwist, making me open my eyes to see Bucky with some water in hand.

"Come on, you can prop up against me if you want." He said, hand gently helping me upwards. I push myself up and shift over, my back now facing the soldier's chest as he hands me the bottle.

"Oh fuck that's good," I sigh, taking a long swig before passing it back over to Bucky. It takes me a moment, but after I blink a few times I finally realize the view before me.

Directly in front of us is the most beautiful mountain range I'd ever seen-- massive trees lining the edges of the mountainS, an eagle soaring overhead, and a huge, crystal blue lake smack dab in the center. So cut off from civilization, this untouched land surrounded my mountains and only Mother Nature as its mistress.

"Wow, this is-" I start, eyes wide as they tried to take in every detail. The lighting, the shades of green, the textures--all of it... "breathtaking."

"I'm glad you like it." Bucky said softly, his voice a soft tickle behind my ear. His arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me in a bit closer to him as I sat in awe.

"Even though I'm not the biggest hiking fan-"

"Huh, couldn't tell." Bucky joked.

"-oh hush. I was saying, even though I'm not the biggest hiker, I'm really glad you asked me to do this." I reached for his hands on my waist and gave them a small squeeze.

"Thanks for coming. I'd only ever been here alone before, and it was for a mission. So I'm glad I get to actually enjoy it, and with some pretty decent company while we're at it." He kissed the side of my head, a smirk pressed against my hair.

"Oh decent huh? Just decent?" I looked over into his blue eyes and saw they were already looking down at me. That shit-eating smirk plastered on his stupidly gorgeous face. "Says the man who practically begged to take me here."

He shrugged, "I don't remember begging."

"Oh? So all that whining and bribing with takeout was just a lapse in memory then?"

"Probably." He said, the nonchalance to his voice making me wanna shove and kiss his sarcastic ass all at once..

So I settle with a boop his nose and a scrunched smile. "Cheeky." I turn back to the view before me, settling back into Bucky. As I reached into my bag and pulled out the small lunch I'd packed prior, I heard a grumble behind me. "Hungry?" I ask.

"Just a bit." He chuckled lightly.

I pulled some of the sandwiches and some fruits out, grabbing one for myself and handing the other to Bucky. "I can't think of a prettier place I've ever eaten," I said, mouth half full as I took a bite of my sandwich.

He reached for some blueberries, arms brushing past mine as he hummed and popped them in his mouth. "I need to take you out more then. Can't let this be the peak of our relationship now can I?"

"I mean, as long as I can actually physically get to these places ok I'm down. My stubbornness can't handle another hike like this, or I'll try to climb Everest of something next time."

"Eh, Everest is overrated anyways." He said, taking another bite of food.

I turned around in shock, "Seriously? You climbed Everest?"

He had a cocky smile on his face as he nodded. "Yup. Was kidding about the overrated thing though. Impressed?"

"Um, yeah I'm impressed! But when, how, what was it like?" I rambled on. I couldn't believe this man I'd come to know and love still had stuff like this just to learn about. A whole lifetime to know.

He put the bottle down, thinking for a bit. "About ten years ago, when I was still in..." He hesitated. Hydra. Something we both knew, understood in... Different ways. It didn't need to be said. "I remember bits and pieces, but it was cold as hell and windy. For a second there though, at the top of the mountain, I looked out and was me. Bucky. I didn't remember the last time I had been myself like that, and I just didnt know what to do but take a deep breath in, look out at the mountains. I sat there for... Fuck knows how long."

I set down my food and reached for his hand, my thumb tracing over the back as he spoke. "Is that why you like hiking and climbing so much?"

He nodded, hand turning and holding mine. He looked at the metal hand below him intertwined with mine before he spoke. "It can always pull me out of whatever headspace I'm in, I don't know. When shit doesn't work and the day feels like hell, being out here just... Helps. It reminds me of who I was or could be. I don't know." He shrugged, looking away at the view.

I squeeze his hand, eyes tracing back to his face. "I think I can sort of understand. Not the hiking or climbing but... Being by the sea does the same for me. Helps me remember that I'm alive and here."

He nods, his gaze still in the horizon. "It's like, no matter how fucked up the world gets or I get, nature doesn't judge. She justs gets it and doesn't care. Doesn't care about who I am or what I've done."

"Because she just sees chaos and order and gets that both are important." I add, fingers still tracing along the side of his face slowly. "The rest of it doesn't really matter."

"Exactly."

We sit in silence for a moment before I shift Bucky's face towards me. His eyes lock onto mine in silent question.

"Thank you for bringing me here. And sharing this with me."

He smiles as he leans down, a small kiss pressed against my lips before he let his forehead drop to mine. "Happy to."

"So where to next?" I ask, pulling back enough to look at him. "Another mountain? The desert? A tundra?"

"Actually, " he said, that cocky smile gracing his features again. "I got the perfect spot already in mind."

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #fluff #avengers bucky #bucky fluff fic #marvel #domestic bucky #established relationship #boyfriend bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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jenniferjareauwife · 6 months

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what about early in jj and r’s relationship the team goes out for drinks, and it’s the first time jj sees r in something other than work casual clothes. either a dress or something less formal idm, but im obsessed w the idea of jj just being floored by finally seeing r in something other than work clothes. ps love ya🫶🏻

So Fucking Good

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: smut

warnings: smut, fingering r receiving

word count: 750

summary: jj sees you outside of work in a dress for a first time and she thinks you look really good

a/n: love you too :) 🫶🏼 i added some smut bc i thought you would like it

I fluffed my hair up a bit before getting out of my car and heading into the bar. The whole team was meeting up to celebrate closing our last case, I wasn't planning on going until I heard that JJ was coming. We couldn't go together because we didn't want anyone knowing we had started a relationship and going out with the team was the only time we could see each other outside of work.

I stepped into the bar and smiled as soon as I saw Penelope. She looked like she was already a few shots in and she ordered more as soon as she saw me walk in. "Where's everyone else?" I asked her.

"They're over there, dancing. I'm sticking to drinking." She gave me two thumbs up before taking another shot. I scanned the dance floor until I saw JJ, she was smiling over at Spence, making my blood boil a bit. I tore my gaze away from her and back to Penelope.

I felt a small tap on my shoulder and I turned around. Once I saw JJ's face my eyes lit up. "JJ! Hey!" I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug, forgetting we were in front of Penelope but she was probably too drunk to remember it anyways.

"You look stunning." She whispered in my ear, making me moan a bit. She knew how to turn me on. "I've never seen you in a dress before."

"Well..." I pulled away from the hug. "Now you have."

"I can't wait to get out of here." Her fingertips trailed along my ass before Penelope looked back towards us. My whole body shivered as I found myself leaning against JJ.

"More tequila?" Penelope offered.

"Yes please." I took another shot, feeling JJ's eyes on me. "You have to stop looking at me like that, people are gonna find out."

"Well it's really hard to stop looking at you when you look so fucking good." She whispered so soft only I could hear. "You should wear stuff like this more often. At my house. So I can take it off." I choked on my next shot, Penelope looking at me with a concerned look.

"I'm fine." I whispered. "Just...bathroom." I put my hand on my chest before going to the bathroom. JJ followed close behind, her excuse being that she wanted to check to make sure I was ok.

We locked the door to the bathroom as she pushed me against the wall, kissing me harshly and grabbing my breasts. "You look so fucking good in this dress. I can't look away from you." She started kissing down my neck, making my mind a fuzzy mess.

"JJ..."

"What is it baby? Tell me what you want? I'll give it to you."

"Your fingers. Please."

"Yes ma'am." She left hot wet kisses down the other side of my neck while dipping her fingers into my panties. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me, wanting to feel every inch of her on me.

She shoved two fingers into me without warning and I had to bite back a moan by biting on her shoulder. She fingered me roughly, determined to pull every sound out of me. "Please...please please." It was the only word I could bring myself to say.

"Please what honey? I can't understand you."

"I need to..." My legs were becoming jello underneath me as I got closer to my climax. "I'm so close...please." I moaned into her neck.

"Shh, I'll get you there baby." Her voice softened a bit. "Just stay quiet for me. You don't want anyone to hear, do you?" I shook my head, it was finally registering that we were in the bathroom of a bar.

"JJ- I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me sweet girl." She kissed my lips to stifle my moans as she fucked me through my orgasm. "So good...You did so good for me, so good." She licked off her fingers before pulling me into a hug. "Such a good girl for me." She rubbed my back while I caught my breath, wrapping her arm around my waist as we walked out. Penelope's eyes widened at my state.

"What happened?" She saw how sweaty and red I looked.

"Panic attack." I whispered, sitting down and wincing as my legs started to cramp.

"Oh." JJ gave her look to tell her not to press before she leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"We'll finish later."

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #lgbtq #wlw post #jennifer jareau x you

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

Text

but then…Gigi

Part 4 - A Big Daddy Elvis Fanfiction

Previous chapter link for context, picking up where we left off

I owe so much thanks to my friends for all their help and input and the joy they bring me, thanks to them and my precious followers this fluffy/wacky little universe even exists. I’ve never had so much fun on a collaboration before in my life, I love y’all so.

Warnings: 18+, sexual content and heavy themes… ok so this is smutty and fluffy, right? But still there are some things that might be offensive regarding narrator’s voice so I want to warn about those and distinguish them from my own opinions. For much of this part we are in Elvis’ head and, due to it being summer of ‘77 -it’s a bit of a rollercoaster in there. Please be warned there are throwaway lines reflecting poor self esteem, depression, misogyny, severe health issues and the use of the word fat to describe oneself negatively.

Enjoy

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Elvis feels a pang of sympathy for his boys’ hysteria when he runs into a crowd of fans as he himself sits panicked in the Stutz, engine off and his shades on, watching Gigi check that the coast is clear on the sidewalk and buzz into her apartment building -in just his jacket and panties. Her sandals are gone somewhere, too, probably back at Graceland. Only that anklet left on like some harem jangle.

Her sooties must be burning on the sunbaked concrete, maybe that’s why she’s skipping everywhere she goes like a damn foal. His blood pressure feels like it’s skyrocketing just watching this show and the fact she looks like she’s in her element terrifies and excites him and -getting to know Gigi is a dangerous hobby.

As shameless as a toddler that one, and every bit as unpersuaded about needing to give a shit about things like flashing her butt cheeks for all of Memphis.

Her tanned butt cheeks.

Which brings up all sorts of questions he’s too scared to ask and will have to address with Tammy. He’s sure she’s to blame for nude sunbathing, he just hopes that wildcat has enough decency to do it privately. Very privately. Hopefully in a bullet proof bunker if Gigi is with her. This girl has been directionless and fatherless for too long; Elvis’ mouth dries out in anticipation of being that guiding, molding, firm hand in her life -the rest of his body too sedated to respond normally although he feels that weird ass dribble his pecker has recently started to do when it’s very much willing but can’t physically swell to poke a gal. He thoroughly regrets not wearing underpants to catch some of this… horny… pre-cum…incontinence…the baby blue of his tracksuit showing a small stain on his leg. Just the size of a penny. Maybe a quarter.

He takes his glasses off and rubs at his sweaty eyes.

Gigi is standing in the opened doorway, waving him in with a huge, expectant smile on her face, and feeling something he hasn’t felt since 1955 sneakin’ into Barbra’s room, he lumbers out his side of the car and doesn’t even bother to make sure no one’s looking, even though she whipped her head around to clock their surroundings like top paid security for his sake. If someone sees and thinks he’s going into a college girl’s dorm to corrupt her then they’d be right, and it'll make far prettier gossip than what’s coming out in Red’s book next month.

He slips past her and she runs her hand along his chest as he goes by, giddy and fond. She waves to someone behind his back,

“Hey Paolo! Good afternoon!” Elvis turns just in time to see an old shriveled man in an undershirt waving wildly at her as the door shuts.

“Who’s that?”

“Our repairman. Sweetest little man.” Gigi gushes and Elvis motions for her to lead the way up the stairs while speculating with nauseating surety on what Gigi might be found wearing -or not wearing- when dear sweet shriveled perverted Paolo makes up a problem with her sink and comes into her apartment. “He’s taught me how to make Limoncello jello! You won’t find anything more refreshing!”

“How very epicurean for a regular, ole handyman.” he can’t help but grumble, usually highly self-aware and unbiased for the potential learnedness of common folks. He knows he’s one. But right now he wants to make a carpet from Paolo’s nose hair.

“What does epicurean mean?” Gigi doens’t without missing a beat as she unlocks her own front door.

Now they’re back on solid, Elvis-worthy ground, he can smile indulgently as he enters her space and explain, “Somebody who likes to in-duuulge in the luxurious and the sensuuaal, it was a whole philosophy.”

“Oooh, that explains why I didn’t understand.” she giggles, “I’ve flunked philosophy twice and I’ve got a whole pile of papers over there that’s supposed to be homework but a hero of mine invited me to go swimming at his place so, there they sit!” she shows off a rather alarming stack of papers next to the poorly made up bed, half hidden by the swim suits and cut offs strewn about the carpet. “Sorry for the mess, a lotta the girls got ready over here and wrecked it. Half of it is mine though, you should’ve seen the things they suggested I wear for you! Thongs, Elvis! Actual thongs! And here I was unsure if you felt just fatherly towards me or what so I- I didn’t wear a thong.”

Elvis takes a seat on her bed since he figures they’re now past being modest about what they’re gonna do and asks, “What’s a thong?”

“You don’t- it’s this sorta thing.” Gigi is a little shocked that this man of the world doesn't know such a thing and spins around a few times before finding a very small scrap of fabric and bending over, she picks it up. Elvis forgets what she was getting off the floor for a few minutes before she starts spreading the fabric strings apart and pronouncing, “This is a thong!”

Elvis squints his eyes as if trying to see a ship on the edge of the horizon or something, “I don’t get it.” he says at last, “How’s it work? Go around your neck?”

“No, silly!” she giggles even harder in shocked exasperation, “It’s panties.”

“No way in hell.” he sounds awed, “No way, how in tarnation does that work?”

“They’re like…very little, small, tiny panties!” she explains with a hyped tone as if the more enthusiastic she is the quicker he’ll get the mechanism.

“That -those ain’t gonna hold or cover nothin’.” he insists, “Now you’re the one pullin’ my leg.” he notices there’s a magazine with his face on it stashed under the teetering bedside lamp and makes mental note of that before leaning back against her massive stuffed bear.

“They’re not supposed to work, they’re supposed to be sexy?” she tries again before playfully putting them on her head and striking a pose.

“Sexy, hmm?” he rumbles, his eyes twinkling and she knows she’s got his interest at least, whether he’s fibbing ignorance on knowing about thongs or not, she can’t tell. Suddenly it strikes her that Elvis Presley himself is lounging on her bed, leaned against the stuffy she grinds herself on to the thought of him pretty regularly. Suddenly having his jacket zipped at all feels oppressive from the rush of heat that sight floods her with.

“If they were for comfort we’d just go without.” she laughs, “They dig up into your…” she looks about before dropping her voice and taking a couple steps closer to him, “butt crack.” she blushes furiously at having to name it and his fingers itch to do unspeakable things to this little girl.

“Show me.” he says, low and steady and a little removed, just cool enough to be commanding, just warm enough to make her feel (very) admired. He sees her sweet blush turn into droopy lidded arousal before his very eyes and with meek acceptance she hooks her fingers into her swim bottoms without a pause.

They drop to the floor in a nylon puddle between her legs. Just like that. Simple as that, her bare little pussy lips are peaking out from his jacket at him and she smiles gently at his shock as she hooks her legs through the thong’s leg holes and shimmy’s the stupid excuse for lingerie up her stems. “It’s just you, daddy.” she explains in a confidential whisper that melts his heart.

“Yeah, jus’ f’me, baby girl.” he makes a pronouncement of his own, hushed and boyish and her own heart feels too big for her chest at the way his blue eyes somehow soften in wonder at her exposed self. She had expected something rougher, ravenous, impetuous. Not this revenant appreciation that bends his whole frame towards her with open mouthed puffs of longing. He aches, wishing he’d brought his Polaroid to snap this memory forever, add it to his collection. A little something tangible he could thumb at it in the future and remember this night when an terribly hot, painfully young, big tittied woman had wanted him.

“Will ya do a lil spin f’me? Wouldn’t want that wedgie to go unappreciated, now would we? So sweet to try it on for me.” he coos and then hums deep and appreciative as she does a couple slow spins for him, that humm she’s only ever heard in amplified concert footage sending sparks to her very toes.

“You like them?” she asks, toes curling in nervousness for his verdict.

He lounges back and strokes his mouth a few times while cocking his head to the side. She’s breathing so heavy he thinks if he even blew on her she’d come. “They’re practical.” he decides definitively.

“Are they?” she sighs with relief.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles soberly, “quite. For what we’re up here to do, they’re practical.” he adds this slowly and doesn't miss her shudder or the way her eyes light up in relief that they’re getting to the point. He likes that she’s letting him lead, she’s a good girl. “Step closer baby.” he stays lounging so she does all the work and when she gets to the edge of the bed he keeps motioning with his fingers until she’s kneeling on it herself, clambering forward over his lap. “See, when a man makes a meal of a lady’s lil garden, s’real important to have unrestricted access.” he proves his point by slipping his index finger along that abominably small seam of fabric that’s poofy and filled out with bare labia lips.

“Daddy.” she wails at the contact, shaking apart already and that along with her little place has his head thudding some kinda way. She’s gripping onto his neck, near clawing whatever part of him she can grab, close to tears again like a child not getting what she wants. The art of the tease seems lost on her, she’s so hungry.

He’s gotta ask. “Honey, y-yo- honey you ain’t actin’ younger for my sake, are ya?”

“Oh no,” her face turns down again and he’s done it again, insulted her somehow, “you find me immature?”

“No!” he shouts and then tries to moderate himself, “No, no it’s jus’ that -you’re a baby, thas all.”

“Well,” her grin is guileless, “you’ll just have to bear with me, big daddy, I’m all so excited I’ve got Elvis Presley in my room! Elvis Presley! You’re Elvis Presley.”

“I-I-I am.” he admits, perturbed, “What’s wi- why Big Daddy?”

“Cause that’s what you are!” She says it like she’s assuring a pageant queen she won the prized title. “Elvis Presley’s about to eat my pussy.” she murmurs to herself as she kicks her feet and he recalls yet again that he is sat down on her fluffy pink bed for a reason. He tips her over into the sheets.

“So uh, you’ve thought of this before, hmm?” he smirks slyly and reaches out to clasp an ankle in his big, ringed hand, his tanned digits encircling it entirely and he thumbs at the veiny soft spot beneath the ankle.

Gigi moans at his slight pressure.

“That’s a pressure point for the reproductive system, did you know that sir?” she is as eager about information as he is, and clever too.

“So that’s why all the girls lose it.” he hums with a laugh, “No, Gigi, I didn’t know tha’, you like gettin’ rubbed?”

“YES!” she sighs so loudly it’s like a little wind tunnel through the room, “Though it doesn’t happen much.” That makes his heart hurt in sympathy and he adds his other hand to knead her toned calf, those legs of hers spreading jello, just like he calculated they would, “I love to rub folks though! Love givin’ people rubs.”

“Who do ya rub?” Elvis is cross at this new information.

“Oh, anybody who needs it!” she makes it worse.

“Lotta demand for that at Uni?”

“Yeah, so many sore athletes after games.” she is perfectly sober about it, while so enthused he wants to murder every person those sweet hands have descended upon in soothing kindness. “But I think you’re the best I have ever had do it to me, oh Lord you’ve got magic in those hands.”

He’s tempted to tell her how true that statement is but he can’t bear her laughing at him right now so he leans further across the bed and inches towards her knees with his squeezes and tries to elicit more of those moans.

“Oh god I can’t believe Elvis Presley is rubbing my legs.” she gasps again to the ceiling and it’s this youthful narration of her life happenings that makes him think of his Yisa and if he could he’d put both of these little darlings back into their fragile eggs to keep them away from the cruel world.

“So, you done thought of this before, baby girl?” he asks, casting a little smug look over at that ponderous stack of his records and the TV set stationed right at the foot of her bed. He knows the answer already, thanks to Tammy, but it nags him, the question of which Elvis she was touching herself to after her first visit to his house. Her closed eyes and near drooling mouth give him the idea that if he’s good enough at this, puts enough effort into being what he used to be naturally, she can keep those pretty eyes closed and he can morph back into whatever daydream she’s once had. He could give this pretty little girl a little time capsule and before she’s fully awake, slip away again, leave before she recalls it was the gift of an old man, his potency gone to seed but his love for women and their secret parts just as strong.

He bends over, gut digging into his diaphragm and knocking out his wind, presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Tell’me ‘bout when you thought of me.” he murmurs into her warm skin. He notices he leaves goosebumbs in the wake of his touch.

“Mmm?” she’s goners with just this firm kneading of her limbs, breathing heavy and sedated from lust.

“Have ya thought of me when you’ve played with yourself?” he’s a little sterner than he should be, just because he knows the answer and wants an honest reply.

“Oh yes.” she gives it, unabashed.

“Is it my movies? Ya watch my movies when ya touch y’self?” he prods, working up to that baby soft stretch of inner thigh that still seems like the most fragile of all God’s creation, like cotton Candy holding ligament and muscle together by some miracle. “Or ya prop up that record right there?” he pulls his head up long enough to point at the foremost record cover in the stack -Live From Madison Square Garden, it reads, and features him silhouetted against black, crouched in a white jumpsuit.

A more mature option; interesting.

Gigi opens her eyes and cranes her head to see what he’s pointing at. “Oh, yeah, sometimes that one,” she nods, “it’s the closest thing I could find.”

“Closest to what, the genuine article?” he snickers in judgment, “It’s goddamn cardboard, at least watch a movie like a normal pervert.”

“The closest to how you are now!” she pouts adamantly, “You’re so…smooth… in all your movies. Nothing like how I know ya when you drive past on the street.”

Well, that’s something else, even if Elvis doesn't quite get what that something is. It’s absurd, the fact she existed all along on some sidewalk he sped past. “How’s that now, honey?” he asks.

“I couldn’t find anything closer to what you are now!” she explains, “Nothing since Aloha and -well I like that one, don’t get me wrong but I,” she bites her lip and a skittish flinch settles into her eyes.

“What about that one, darlin?” he begs softly.

“Well I like how hairy and strong ya look but,” she doesn’t look down or away when she gets to her point, instead she bends forward to be nearer to him, to hold his hands as they lay on her legs, to peer into his eyes gently, “you seem too sad in it for me to -to use it like that.”

He’s touched, so much so he swallows hard and dips his head to kiss her knobby little kneecap. “T-that were a rough time in my life.” he admits and his voice has gone wrecked. It is odd beyond words how he feels like she’s a child to be protected but just like a child at a sleepover he can duck under the covers and admit his worst fears to her.

It all goes back to being proportionally heartbreaking as Gigi leans forward and makes him lean back, clambering methodically back into his lack as if she owns the damn space, holding his furry cheeks tenderly as she licks those luscious lips and slots them against his. This he is familiar with, nothing odd at all about this age old ritual of him being seductively depressed and a girl soothing it away with her tongue and hands in his hair.

He allows himself the liberty of stroking her bare back beneath his jacket, figuring if he’s gonna lick beaver he might as well do a little seducing beforehand, cherish her like she deserves, give them both the works. As much as he can give with this dull headache and the meds making him feel so leaden he could fall asleep in seconds. He takes a breath and tries to clear his head, focusing on kissing her well, kissing her better than any of those stupid young jocks ever managed.

Back at making a case to her that he could make her happy. He doesn’t know why he keeps trying that argument when a couple decades worth of broken hearts and homes behind him suggest otherwise.

“Wanna see what I used to pretend it was you?” she tempts against his lips as they surface for air, sounding so demure yet utterly unrepentant even as she confides, “After you petted me and sent me home I needed you so bad, couldn’t find anything that felt like you now, so I shut the tv right off. Grabbed my stuffy ‘cause he was fuzzy and had a belly like you and then I grabbed…here, wait here, don’t you move now!“

Her little butt is already bouncing out the room into the en-suite before she finishes the sentence and he is left to sit on the bed and await her return, processing the fact she had wanted hair and a corpulent figure.

Bizzare taste, definitely dealing with father issues, painfully sweet.

He groans in recognition that she’s entirely to his own taste.

She comes back holding the most bulbous bottle of shampoo he’s ever seen in his life. The size of his damn fist easily, bright yellow and shaped at the top like like a lemon an- hell it’s even named “Lemon-Something-Or-Other”.

“I used this!” she proclaims with a giggle that jiggles her whole body.

Elvis just stares, torn between impressed and horrified. “You’re tellin’ me that…thang…fit up your lil cooch?”

“Well, no,” she admits, mood immediately deflating in disappointment with herself, “but I’m working on it! Or maybe I don’t have to, now that I’ve got the real thing, as you call it!”

Gigi bites her lip and winks in an attempt to be seductive and it’s the most ludicrously jarring thing Elvis can imagine, he roars with laughter at her art of being a cock tease without trying and a total clown when she does try.

Oh fuck he’s in love. Yeah, already established that awhile back but, it’s just, it’s hitting him again.

“I think you’ll find the real thing a bit disappointin’ by comparison.” he wheezes, too amused to be insecure.

“Oh really?” she perks up in palpable relief, “Oh thank jesus! That thing’s huge and I was gonna try for you but- but -but it’s huge! And I was just gauging from what I saw floppin’ around in your tracksuit that night and I was trying to not be obvious, so I couldn’t exactly clock it real good but it looked awfully wide, like a paper towel roll when it’s halfway gone and this was the only thing I could find like it, I wasn’t going to use anything of Tammy’s and besides they weren’t fat either so I just…” She trails off with a shrug, still standing there before him holding the fuckin’ Lemon Drop Shampoo.

She’d tried not to be obvious, she says, but he’d caught her staring well below his belt half a dozen times in two days. “So,” Elvis is still wiping the tears of amusement from his eyes, “so ya used a shampoo bottle and a teddy bear.”

“Yeah.”

“And did it work?” his eyes darken at the prospect of hearing her tell him this naughty story.

“Sorta.”

“How can it ‘sorta’ work?”

“I came,” Gigi sighs, “but I felt so empty..after. Cried myself to sleep” her embarrassed giggle does not deceive him from the certainty that she’s telling the truth.

“Oh baby, what’re we gonna do with you?” he asks her and God Almighty all at once.

“Hold me, please?” she whispers.

“Course, baby. Nothin’ I’d rather do, get over here,” He holds out his arms and she cruises in at a deceptively fast speed, colliding back into his chest and tucking her face into the crease of his neck, she’s pressing kisses there into that sweaty fold and he rubs her back, traces the dip of her waist, the slow curve outwards of her hips, thumbs at the flimsy material of her panties. Feeling her soft skin and treasuring it. Wondering what she’s thinking and not knowing she’s thanking God she gets to be held by him.

“You make feel so safe.” her breath ghosts over his face and he’s not sure how it’s so fresh and lovely after scarfing down burgers and cherry coke but he can’t get enough and he grabs her face as gently as he can manage with this much wonder filling him in a rush.

He’s pretty sure she ain’t ever had a chance to kiss with tongue, she’s eager to slip hers in but she’s got that petrified immobility of a gal who’s never gotten the chance to give and take, just give while some stupid rash boy slobbers and knocks her teeth.

Elvis is quite good with his tongue.

He flicks at her tongue, he waits, taps her butt until she gets his prompt. She flicks. He trails it alongside her own, he waits. He taps. She mimics. They get a good commerce going and soon she’s squirming and writhing in his lap while he stays put, his patience and experience a buoy for her as she flounders with so much desire she doesn’t know how to cope beyond undulating against him and tugging at his hair, their mouths wide and uncaring, devouring.

It’s fun with a girl leveraging down on him from his lap, one might think it would put him at a disadvantage but it doesn’t, he turns her silly head with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, and she’s just a dolly up there for him to work against his mouth. Rather like how he’s gonna work her pussy if they make it that far. For now, there’s this age old dance and her pretty breaths.

He sucks her tongue and she lets out a cry that’s distorted by the absence of any control over her own tongue and suddenly he can feel her move more frantically, fumbling between them until he hears the zzzz of the zipper as she undoes her jacket front and frees her full breasts like the thin cloth was suffocating her. It becomes clearer what she needs when she continues to fumble between them, unsatisfied, until he feels his own taught closure opening and the fan air hits him and goosebumps spread and shame flares and then it’s unity. Their chests meeting, pressing, soft and warm and she shudders against him like she just touched a force field.

She mewls into his mouth again and traces his puffy lips with the tip of her tongue while he breathes. “Feels so right.” he realizes in a mumble.

“Mhmm.” she says as she presses more kisses to his panting mouth. Gigi reaches between them once more and he watches cross eyed from the closeness as she hefts one boob up and presses it between them more firmly, before repeating the procedure with the other until, until they are smashed to her satisfaction. Then she starts grinding, those fat titties of hers, against him with the rest of her- against his hairy, saggy man boobs, she’s dragging her nipples across him and worrying them red with his rough texture, her toes curling from the friction. Her nipples are pebbled and she’s crying out, can’t stop moaning or calling for God because he feels so good against her. Cradling her boob her fingers press selfishly against one of his own nipples and lil Elvis wants to fight against his induced state, desperate to twitch for this pretty girl’s attention. “Oh god, you’re so hairy, like a nest! So perfect and manly and, I’m gonna, let me, let me please, please oh god, feels so good!” she’s working herself up to a squealing frenzy going over one particular patch of ratted curls… from…rubbing her pretty nipples on his chest hair.

Elvis just sits there and computes, watches, like a green boy, Gigi’s cradled boobs, her gaping mouth, her long throat and her cramping widdle sooties. God, what he’d give to suck those curling little piggies.

He’s hot as a furnace, this man, and those coarse, wiry curls are zapping her already throbbing nipples until Gigi can’t seem to breathe, so much sensation crowding her senses but not where she needs. She grinds down on him, where they’ll join so perfectly, and she feels that perfectly fat cock of his wedged on top of his thick thighs that he can’t manspread for once with her on top of him. She reaches down and positions him through the silky track bottom until she can slide along, feeling the width of him parting her pussy lips even with the thong’s fabric obstructing. His pants are sticky to touch, even though he feels too heavy and floppy to be fully hard.

Elvis should kiss her again. Warn her he ain’t good for nothin’ before she gets her hopes up and he gets to humiliate himself like some useless old fuck.

“Daddy, daddy fill me up, daddy.” she beats him to it in the prettiest little beg he’s ever heard.

“Oh Gigi.” he groans compassionately before grabbing her hand and bringing it up away from his messy lil pecker, “I’s gone lick you, don’t you recall?”

“Yes but I’m past that, I need you inside me!” she gasps, grin growing by the second.

“Ah, yeah, well baby it’s a big deal, takin’ innocence and uh-“ he scratches the back of his head and she escapes his hold and her hand is back to it, squeezing his cock and it really does feel nice, in a head scratch sorta way. “Look, Gigi, honey, I’m sorry but lil Elvis is shy tonight.” he holds his breath as she slowly processes this.

She doesn’t retract her hand as she registers what he’s saying. “Aww, but I can kiss him!”

“M-m-maybe some other time?” he pleads like he’s asking a child to please let him get away with just five bedtime stories. Six is overkill and Daddy has work tomorrow.

She pouts briefly before bringing her sticky hand up to her mouth and licking her fingers like a barbarian. That sight alone almost fixes his damn ED. Gigi likes the light taste of him, humming in approval at the first taste like a baby trying candy for the first time.

“T-t-that means he likes ya, though.” he assures her like an idiot and she smiles around her digits.

She’s very sober and a little mournful, the way she keeps looking at him, not at all petulant or even the slightest bit contemptuous, just concerned and it primes some pump inside him to explain more than he ever should but he can’t seem to stop the words as they come out, “Had a migraine this mornin’ before ya came over and I wanted to be in ship-shape for some fun -fun with you- so I had to take some lil helpers for the head and they, well, they, they mess with…that.” he motions to his lap.

“Awww,” she laments, heartbroken as if he had to endure having his head sawn clean off, “you had a migraine? And you still had us over? Oh poor, sweet daddy!” she shifting in his lap to rub at the back of his head and into his hair and he tries to mumble assurances that it’s better now but they get lost in the glorious blubber of her frankly unnecessarily huge breasts that happen to be smashed in his face as she attends to his head. “I’ll put some oils on it- I’ve got a bathtub, we could put you in tha-”

“-Baby girl,” He laughs, excavating his chin from her cleavage, “it’s better now, I was just explainin’ the faulty mechanics. I ain’t always so stove up, didn’t want you thinking-“

“Oh I wouldn’t care!” she gushes intensely and he’s very worried that streak of the insane fan in her is larger than he thought but it’s too late, she’s caught him in her big tittied, huge nippled, anklet wearing trap, “I’d lick you and suck you and wiggle you inside me soft no matter what, all my days! I don’t care!”

“T-that’s real touching.” he murmurs in a daze. She’s perfect, every man’s wet dream - and he’s the damn lucky bastard that gets to have her. And he can’t even make full use of her.

“I’m gonna give you a back massage with some marjoram oil-“

“No, no you’re not.” he grabs at her to keep her forcefully on his lap, “I don’t need no hippy potions, I ain’t no witch’s experiment or an ole man. I’m here to eat beaver. Or…baby seal, with that bald thing.”

“You sure? I-“

“Gigi, be good.” he puts his finger to her lips and she freezes like a chastised bambi. “Good baby girl. Now you lay back f’me and spread those pretty legs. A man needs room to work his magic.”

“Ok.” she agrees in an excited whisper and tips out of his lap sideways onto the sheets, giving him a full view of her -nearly- naked self for the first time, completely serene and without artifice. He knew she'd be even worse without clothes, worse for his obsession and his indulgence and everything else but this -this is an Angel.

God, he really adores women. Best idea ever to make ‘em, and to make them with fat boobies and lil holes to rub peckers into and sweet faces to paint slimey and cute widdle toes to rub your balls against.

“Ok, let’s see what we’re workin’ with here.” he smirks and gets on his belly with a grunt, heaving himself up the bedsheets and in between her long legs, taking his fingers and moving aside that stupid little string they call underwear these days. “Oh lord, look at that.” he appreciates the pretty pink beauty of her and the smooth pale skin of her kitty, so delicate and girly and -he’s a little smitten. More than he expected. Which was an oversight with the way she keeps blowing his hopes out of the water.

“You’re the prettiest thing I ever did lay eyes on, sweetheart.” he swears with his whole heart, shuffling in closer and kissing her thigh.

Gigi cranes her neck and unsatisfied with the narrowed visuals says, “Wait, lemme prop up.” and stuffs a few pillows behind her back and sits up, legs spread wide and her smile pleased like she’s about to watch her favorite film, “Ok, now I can watch you. Go ahead, daddy.”

“Umm, alright.” he clears his head once more at the thought of her wanting to watch and dives in. Somehow he gets the feeling if he doesn’t go for it she’ll come in seconds anyway she’s so high strung and then he’ll have barely gotten his taste.

Furry, silky, warm -that’s how his hair and head feel beneath her hands, his fuzzy sideburns and his hair so little styled after the pool fluffs and tufts adorably and his cheeks puff out with his vigorous exertions and his sideburns chafe her thighs and his hands are everywhere at once -Gigi watches all these things and marvels in her heart at it. He’s very voracious about it while still having a great deal of -nuance- to it. Like a man who is in a watermelon eating competition, he may look rabid but if he’s won a few then he must have a calculated method down amid the mess.

The predominant feeling is comfortable intimacy. They are both surprised by it, she by the naturalness of watching the most famous face on planet earth smeared from her pleasure and rapturously content with her taste, he with the pleasant rightness of her legs squeezing his shoulders snuggly and her hands petting his hair away from his sweaty forehead. His scalp sweats the more he works and she rubs his neck as if mindful of the lurking migraine, as if she can only thank him for his touches by returning them.

She praises his tongue in breathy awe, “so long and pink and wet and oh-“

Nose buried in pink and wet and sweet womanliness Elvis hums his agreement. Peeking up through his lashes he can see the one hand not cradling his head is industriously tugging on those dark, large nipples of hers. He grinds himself against the bed on pure instinct. Another day, another night, he’s gotta get those large nipples of hers in his mouth.

She calls him beautiful. Again and again. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful, worse in person, more than I ever imagined, in my wildest-“

Again and again. Beautiful, she says. More than dreams. More, he’s more and more till Gigi’s praise dissolve into shrieks and pants, screams that whimper out into the low apartment ceiling as the afternoon sun dims, as he keeps going until they build again. And again, her hips are nothing if not insistent on grinding up against his mouth. The room smells of sweat and pleasure and sun-in. She’s vocal in her gratitude, persistent in returning his touch, petting him to say thank you when she finds she can’t form coherent sentences.

Eventually there is no more.

Just peace, and him, heaving back his breath against her thighs in a pussy-drunk stupor, and her shaking from seizing one too many times. His scalp is burning beneath her hands, his neck too. Inflamed and angry, she thinks of how much he loves to give. Wished she’d looked at the clock, something to tell the girls about. Just how many minutes, hours, days? he’d spent pleasing her.

“Good?” he asks in a hopeful little slur and the pink of his cheeks and the shiny glimmer on his nose is so childlike and content in his pouty snooze that her heart melts and she curls over him as best she can and squeezes.

“It was everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes into his burning ear, “I’m hooked.”

His laugh rumbles the whole bed, “Me too, baby girl.”

Their skin is sticky and tacky, they adhere to each other in their embrace. He is soothed by such a clasp as theirs while the longer he lays on his stomach the more keenly aware he is of how it hurts. Now’s the time to roll over and mention something about needing to get back. Now would be it, but for some reason the words don’t come and he lays on his knotted gut, suppressing winces and biting his lip against the pinches, trying to recall the sweetness of her, what made this worth it. Her breath fans his neck, wafting across his cheek -cuddle bug, he thinks, fond. Home, he should go home, but never has it felt so utterly foreign. Like a figment of what he wants and needs, like Christmas morning without your mama. A house is just a shell without heart. He wonders if his boys have got the front den cleaned yet of barbecue and would-be-in-laws.

“Do you need to get off your…head?” Gigi whispers softly and it startles him. She’s got a point, all his blood is rushing to his brain the way he’s laying.

“Probably should.” he grunts and slowly, like a pair of cats, they uncurl from around each other to be face to face for the first time since they shared such pleasure. They’re both a little pink and their smiles are too wide. He wonders at the happiness she’s releasing, marveling that he put it there. He’s got to be careful or it won’t be too long before this little girl realizes she’s got him wrapped around her finger already.

She rubs her nose against his. Another way to kiss.

She asks him if he needs a drink.

“I’ll help you with your philosophy homework.” He promises instead, it’s a reason to see her again. And soon. A reason to see her again and a hint it can’t be tonight.

Tonight he needs his pills, his bed, an enema and god knows what else just to make it till morning. He could cry from how badly he wants to be spontaneous, to go to a girl’s place, make love, cuddle like this and when he says he has to go and her eyes well up with tears at the prospect of his absence -he’d like to be able to say he can stay.

“Hush it’s alright, I’ll stay. I’ve got you, no one’s gonna ever leave you cold again.” something like that. Instead he says he can help with her test. Instead he tries to fool himself into being something less than heartbroken at how even the simplest thing in his life has to be a big production.

“Will you really?” Gigi’s face lights up at his piss poor offer.

“Promise.” he repeats.

“And will you promise me you’ll let me repay you?” She presses slyly, her hand petting down his chest and over the swell of his gut. Some childlike weariness in him wants her to rub it better. He remembers feeling the same way as a child regarding his mother’s touch and despite the fact that Gigi’s a baby girl - his baby girl - he trusts she’d make one Gladys Love Presley proud, doing her best to take care of him.

“Mmmaybe.” he looks down at her with playful suspicion.

“Promise me!” she demands, kicking her feet and flipping over to look down at him, swinging a leg to straddle him again.

He can’t help the wince his face flashes at the pressure of her hands from that high vantage. She flings them off him like she’s been burned, likes she’s the one who got hurt. “Oh shoot, sorry, sorry.” she gasps, her eyes wide and blue and tearful, “It’s bad, huh?”

As if not being able to get it up weren’t chastisement enough for his ego, now there’s this. “Uh huh.” he grits and the stab passes for the moment.

“Do you have something for it?” she hopes, “Do you need to go home?.”

There’s the out he needs. Didn’t even have to say it himself. Melancholy descends like fog over his soul but he reminds himself it is what is, he’s better off than most. So what if he can’t have sleepovers on whim or shit like a normal human or skip having his blood pressure checked every goddamn morning -he has a lot, and he got to eat Gigi’s silky smooth bare pussy. Today was a good day. Not even a wash, it was a good day, she made it a good day.

“Yeah, I need to get home.” he sounds every bit as despondent as he feels about it and he hopes she’ll take that as the compliment intended.

“Ok!” she chirps without missing a beat, jumping up in nothing but his open jacket, skipping out the bedroom door, left turn into what seems to be the kitchen.

Well, she handled that better than expected. Elvis almost hopes she’s still orgasm-happy and it doesn’t reflect her readiness to have him out of her place. He idly flicks at the stack of papers to get some impression of where the test is stumping her. He fidgets with his zipper and closes his jacket back up, coloring at the memory of letting her expose him like that.

She comes bouncing back within the minute holding a glass of water and presenting it with authority, “Now you just drink this daddy, it’s got fennel tincture in it and will help your stomach. You just drink that while I pack my bag. I’ll be fast, don’t worry,” she goes on as he tries to compute what she means and sniffs her concoction warily, “I pack light anyways and we can always come back for the rest of my stuff later.”

Come back. For her stuff. Don’t worry -she packs light.

The fennel wafts around him, the smell of licorice and fairgrounds and his mama’s hand in his and daddy winning him that stuffed tiger. Fennel, for his stomach. He shakes his head. His tongue feels fuzzy.

Come back. For her stuff. She packs light.

She is coming with him. That’s what she must mean, he realizes as he drinks her awful drink and watches with teary eyes her bare ass bend over to grab jeans from a dresser and throw them in a duffel bag. Like Graceland is summer camp.

Come back for the rest later, she’d said. She is coming back with him, just knowing she’s welcome. He didn’t even have to beg, to ask, to suggest, to hint. Send a limo, nothin, just eat pussy and now she’s gonna live with him. Let her press her skin against his own just once and suddenly, he’s never gonna be lonely again.

She bounces into the bathroom and comes out with the damn lemon shampoo, to match the lemon conditioner abandoned on the floor.

Cheap drug store shit.

“Hell no, you’re not bringing that stuff into my house.” he lays down the law, his one condition and the first time he’s vocalized any acknowledgment of her entitlement to his hospitality, “You’ll use mine till we get you sorted.”

“I like the way you smell.” she admits, dropping the bottles there in the middle of the floor. That's that sorted.

It’s still not sunk in fully as Elvis drives his quite recognizable beast of a car through Memphis’ now dark streets, while Gigi sits beside him with her white stack of papers catching the street lights glare as they pass. His giddy joy at her willingness and her entitlement to stay with him is overshadowed by the cold lump in his throat, panicking about how to keep a shred of dignity intact or retain an iota of her attraction for him when she becomes aware of his routines.

“You’re gonna teach me how to help, right?” she asks very soberly from her side, as sober as he’s ever seen her.

“Whatcha mean, baby doll?” he tries to keep his tone light.

“You’ll teach me and show me how to care for you, right?” she presses again, “I wanna take care of you, like you take care of me.”

Simple as that -for her. He grunts out something she mistakes for a yes.

Elvis puffs harder on his lit cigar and feels like he’s gonna choke, ends up rolling his window down, gulping in fresh air as Gigi does it on her side too, hanging her head out the window and whooping into the night. He wonders what might distract her while he slips away this evening, maybe a movie or maybe the hot tub or maybe the horses. Maybe Tammy is still there like a bad penny and will keep her distracted. Tonight Elvis would welcome that. Only tonight, and his hand tightens on the steering wheel in frustration over his own worn out body and how it just can’t walk this stuff off anymore.

She’s still hanging out the window, she looks so young like that. His vision blurs.

Somehow Gigi’s feet have ended up in his lap by the time Sam’s letting them into the front gate. She wiggles her toes under his belly, rubbing at the soft skin. Grinning at him suggestively, like a fat man’s belly is the most sexy thing imaginable. He wants to snort.

“Think they saved us any barbecue?” she grins.

“No, it’s all in Gingersnaps’s hair and I ain’t touchin’ that ever again.” he allows himself to be a bit of bastard, it can’t be wrong when it makes Gigi giggle in maniacal glee in the passenger seat, secure now in having her Daddy’s attention. “I’m in the mood for peanut butter anyway.” he retorts.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

@prompted-wordsmith

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

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@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

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@ellie-24

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@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

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@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

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#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #70’s elvis #Elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis photos #elvis the king #70s elvis #elvis fans #Elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #big daddy Elvis #big daddy elvis fic #but then…Gigi

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cupoftaae · 2 years

Note

hey can you please make an oneshot with reader x taehyung(or jungkook) fluff and lil bit smut. taehyung and reader cuddle and deep talk while cockwarming. like it feels so intimate and make tae feel connected to the reader. please. thanks ly

spicy yet cute, thx for the request!

warnings: smutty...obvi (minors dni, like fr)

Stay like this- KTH drabble (m)

so beautiful like LOOK AT HIM ok anyways enjoyyyyy

your head laid between his collar bone and neck, hands brushing down his chest lightly as you come down from your high, breath still heavy. "you ok?" Taehyung asks quietly as he leaned against the headboard, just as out of breath as you are.

"mhm, more than" you smiled as his hands came around to your waist, rubbing your bare skin gently as he began to lift you off of his cock. "wait" you reached for his arms, stopping him. "can we just lay like this for a moment?" you ask, watching him nod, "yeah, we can" he couldn't help but laugh as you leaned forward more, bare chest against his own.

just 2 hours ago you picked Taehyung up at the airport, he had been away for 2 months due to work. Youve always been understanding that his lifestyle is more than demanding, and youve known that the time you both spend together is always limited, but in moments like these, you wish you could lock him in your room forever to just never miss a second with him.

You lean back just slightly, hissing as the overstimulation between your legs. "I missed you so much" he whispered, cupping your face as your hands fell to his waist. "oh yeah? how much?" you teased.

"did I not answer that question for you?" he winked as he brushed hair out of your face and behind your ears.

The room was semi-dark, only sounds are the birds outside and the soft, delicate breathing from your boyfriend and you.

you smiled at him and scanned his face, unable to prevent a sudden sadness that apparently he caught. "Im sorry...that I was gone so long." he holds your hand tightly. "I wont be leaving again anytime soon" he adds.

"Tae, I know you cant control your schedule"

"it doesnt matter, ill bring you with me next time if needed" he said matter of factly, making you giggle a bit, knowing he couldn't do that.

you shook your head, "shh, lets not talk about work, lets just be here right now ok?"

"okay" he smiled at you, pulling you closer to him again as his lips met yours in open mouth kisses.

"mmm" you moaned and rolled your hips gently, making taehyung's dick twitch inside you. "easily riled up" you scoff, teasing him.

"shut up, arent you the one who just came like 3 times?"

"hey!....ive been pent up" you smiled and lean over to peck his lips.

"oh poor baby" his hand trails up your back and gently pulls you closer to his face. "My pretty girl"

you feel a blush creep to your face, sighing as your head rests against his shoulder.

here you both were, sitting on your apartment bed on some random tuesday night while his dick was still buried inside you. It wasnt weird though, it was actually a sweet moment. You two never got to see eachother most days, and feeling spots of intimacy on all levels was important.

"I love you" you whisper, watching your boyfriends face turn pink.

"I love you most, like seriously"

"impossible" you scoff, squeezing his hand.

you still your movements, listening to his heartbeat as you close your eyes softly. He simply was everything to you, and you both were a naturally clingy couple, but it often proved itself more so when you reunited after time apart.

"we should get married" he randomly spoke up, making you sit back to look at him. "this isnt my proposal!" he quickly added, making you laugh

"im just saying,....we should discuss the ideas of it, I would like to marry you one day."

your chest sang with desire and love, feeling like jello as you melted into his embrace. "ah, I would like it too, soon" you added, poking him teasingly.

"well now I have to be smart about it, because you will expect it"

"nuh-uh" you smiled, squeezing his bread cheeks.

"remember-"

"tae stop"

he laughed between words, "remember last year when you thought"

"Stop!" you lightly slapped his shoulder, hiding your face in embarrassment

"-when you thought I was gonna propose to you at the aquarium?" tae threw his head back, laughs from his chest making you eventually give in and giggle as well.

"stop that Kim Taehyung, you were acting suspicious and you were super lovey dovey that day" you pouted

"I would not propose to you in front of the manatees, y/n."

"first of all....they are called chubby mermaids"

He laughed and squeezed your hips, smiling at your cuteness.

"second of all, you know they are my favorite"

"ok ok im sorry for insulting your chubby mammal mermaids, and by the way, the reason I was so touchy that day was because you looked super cute....and jimin was eyeing you the entire time"

you scoffed and looked at him

"jimin doesnt care, tae"

"yes he does, hes only hangs with me when you are there too"

"because we are friends!!"

"mhm" he huffed and leaned his head back

"maybe you should just hurry up and propose before he does" you teased

"ah y/n, my favorite little pain in the ass"

you giggled and peppered kisses all over his face, hugging him tightly in a random fit of love

"mmm I love youuuuu" you sang, sitting back

"I love you too, pretty girl"

you fluffed his hair up and smiled

"wanna shower?" he asked

"if thats you asking to have sex again you could have ju-"

he laughed and shook his head, "no like, let me wash your hair and stuff"

"oh" your face softened, content at his sudden domestic suggestion.

"is that ok?"

"of course" you leaned forward to peck his lips before eventually pulling off him, his now soft dick slipping out from between you.

he sat up more and helped you off the bed, unable to contain his laughter as you struggled to stand.

"dont laugh at me, you did this" you scoffed

"you asked for it"

a/n- Hi guys, im sorry this is kinda short, Ive been busy this week with family stuff, then I also am trying to add something new to the next chapter of Forever And A Day, it might come out on friday night, or saturday, because I hate publishing work and feeling iffy :0

#taehyung smut #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #taehyung drabble #tae fic #tae smut #tae x reader #tae fluff #tae drabble

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sloppysequinz · 5 months

Text

Baby's first house party, Part 3

Find part 1 here and part 2 here

Keg stand just barely won the part 2 poll, so let's get into it.

You follow your gorgeous new friend out the back door and into the yard. Your legs feel far away, like they've somehow been attached to your body with an extra joint of jello. Four--was it four? drinks on your first night out was the best idea ever.

Crossing the trampled grass, your clumsy feet catch on the uneven ground and you stumble. Maybe it should be embarrassing, but you just feel too good--you laugh as the world moves underneath you, arms wheeling. Your guide catches your hand and you don't fall. Instead, you find yourself staring at your joined hands, then her tiny skirt, then her gorgeous cleavage. There's a necklace hidden between her tits. Are you blushing or just flushed from being drunk?

"Wooooah, baby, you ok?" She asks. She peers into your eyes and you grin widely. You want her to look at you like that forever. Her eyes are green, you think. It's hard to focus on them. You nod. Does it matter if you're ok if she's looking at you like that? She smiles and straightens, linking arms with yours. You walk arm in arm across the grass, her shoulder holding you steady. "You meant it when you said you wanted to cut loose, huh?" she teases. "You're doing amazing, are you sure this is really your first party?"

"It really is!" you insist. "I only turned 21 last week."

"Aww, you waited until you were actually 21? You're precious!" she coos, stroking your arm. You can't feel your toes but you can feel where she touched your skin--it's as though your arm is the only part of your body to exist in the material world. Your hips knock into her wide hips as you walk and she giggles and knocks back into you purposefully. You can feel the roundness of her hips and ass and the alcohol seems to rush to your groin faster.

Finally, you draw up to the group of people on the lawn and she drops your arm to hold out her hands, as though presenting the scene to you.

"Well then, do you know what this is?"

You shake your head. It's a giant silver barrel sitting in a bucket of ice. People with red cups are milling around it in a vague line, occasionally messing around with a hose on top.

"This magical little contraption is called a keg, and it holds all the beer one could ever want." She announces. She spins to you and winks, wobbling a little. "And trust me, when you're me, you want a looooot." She pats her soft belly. You almost reach out. You want to know how soft it is. Your inhibitions are still enough in place not to, but you steal a glance at her chest. The cold night air has made her nipples hard under her shirt. Your world tilts and spins. Parties are the best place in the universe, you're absolutely sure.

Suddenly, the crowd around the keg starts chanting someone's name. They part as a man approaches the keg, a drunken grin on his face. He grabs either side of the keg and the other men in the crowd cheer and fist bump.

"Is he going to...lift it?" You ask, confused. It looks heavy. She laughs.

"Oh no, honey," she replies. "They're going to lift him!" She points and you see three of the man's friends emerge from the crowd and surround him. Two of them grab their friend, and much to your surprise, the man is hoisted into a handstand on the keg as the crowd hoots and hollers. The third friend shoves the hose into his mouth and the crowd begins to count: "1!..2!...3!...." as he begins to swallow.

You're transfixed. The barrel is full of beer, right? How much is he drinking? The thought brings an unexpected twinge of lust. You have to admit it: now that you know how good being drunk feels, it's hot to think about how drunk he's going to be.

Your friend catches you staring and shakes your shoulder excitedly. "Oh my god, you want to try? I thought it would be too intense but you look pretty into it!"

"I don't know...uhm..." your tongue feels numb. "I dunno if I can drink that much...." As you keep watching, the guy in the air kicks, clearly a signal, as the two men holding him set him down. Newly back on his feet, he puts his arm over the shoulder of one of his friends and is stumbles back toward the house with his hand on his stomach. Taunts and cheers from the crowd follow him. You can hear him bragging about how long he was up there between burps and giggles.

"You don't know until you try, right?" She says. Without waiting for you to respond, she grabs your arm and drags you towards the crowd. You follow obediently, feet twisting under you. Everything seems so hazy out here in the dark. The only thing that's clear to you is your desire to keep following.

"Charlie! Eddie!" Your friend calls. The two men who helped the last guy onto the keg turn to look. "We've got a keg virgin here primed to go!" she raises your arm and waves it, making you blush.

"Hell yeah!" one replies. "Fuck yeah!" replies the other. You can't really tell them apart, your vision is wavy. "Let's pop that keg cherry STAT!" one of them says. You can hear the little crowd of people echoing the sentiment loudly and enthusiastically. Someone slaps you on the back and you grin. You feel warm and welcome and transcendent.

"Hey, baby, look here." Your friend calls out to you, pulling you back into the moment. She's smiling at you from next to the keg. You eagerly stumble up to stand next to her. She starts pointing things out. "Ok, put your hands on the handles, either side, here. Yep, just like that." You grab the keg, the cold metal feels alien on your clumsy hands. She's messing around with a contraption on top of the barrel. "I'm just gonna prime the pump so it's ready. Charlie and Eddie," she nods at the two guys you just met, "are going to lift you, ok?" She waits for a confirming nod from you before continuing.

"Once you're up, I'm gonna put the hose in your mouth. Just breathe through your nose and focus on swallowing, ok? And kick your leg when you're done. You don't have to be up there as long as the last guy, it's your first time. Even trying is enough to get you cred with these idiots." She gestures toward the crowd, grinning. Somebody hoots in acknowledgement. Charlie and Eddie move up to stand on either side of you. Your friend reaches out to touch your face, gentle and concerned, watching you closely. "We'll wait for you to say you're ready, ok? And it's fine to chicken out."

You barely hesitate. "I'm ready!" you call out, way louder than you meant to, drawing a laugh from the crowd. You sound drunk, even to you. Your friend smiles and ruffles your hair.

"Ok, here we go!"

Charlie and Eddie reach down and grab your legs. These guys must lift, they're manhandling you like it's nothing. Faster than you can blink, you're upside down, and the world is spinning faster than it already was. Before you can process it, your friend leans forward and presses her fingers between your lips. You open your mouth without question.

"Good job, baby," she said, quiet enough that only you can hear. "Open up wider for me." She slides her fingers over your tongue briefly and you hear her giggle. "You're a good listener." She slides the tube into your mouth and traces her fingers over your lips as they close around it. Her touch is gentle, her long fingernails scraping against you delicately. She straightens up and her tits are level with your face, your nose only inches away as she bounces eagerly on her toes and calls out to the crowd. You're too far gone to care that you're staring.

"Alright everybody....START!"

Beer floods into your mouth, bitter and cold and unfamiliar. You almost choke, but you remember what she told you: breathe through your nose and focus on swallowing. Those two things take up all of your limited brainpower. You can only vaguely hear the crowd yelling.

"1!...2!...3!...4!...5!...6!...7!...8!...9!...10!..."

Beer goes up your nose and you kick your leg, almost involuntarily. The hose is removed from your mouth and the boys set you down gently. The crowd is cheering. You focus on staying standing. It's harder than you remember. The beer is cold and heavy in your belly, stretching it and weighing it down. It feels amazingly dense and you run your hand across your full belly to caress it. The rush of blood and alcohol to and from your head is delicious and disorienting. You're not sure where you are. You just feel full and drunk and happy.

Then, your friend throws her arms around you, pressing her soft, warm body into yours. "That was amazing!" She cries. "Ten whole seconds on your first try! You're a natural born partier, baby!" Charlie and Eddie both slap you on the back, making you sway harder. Your friend laughs at your lack of coordination, sliding under your arm to hold you up.

"Do you know what 'three sheets to the wind' means, honey?" She asks. You shake your head. You're smiling but you don't know why. You think you're probably drunk. She begins leading you back towards the house. "It means you're a ship who can't navigate because there's no wind."

"Does it mean I'm drunk?" you slur.

"It means you're fucking wasted, baby."

"It feels goooood...."

"I know it does, honey. That's why we do this!"

As you stagger across the grass, you lean into her, pressing your face into the side of her neck. The heaviness of your body, your taught belly, the warmth in your groin, the emptiness in your brain...you could get addicted. You can't believe how kind she was to show this to you.

"C'mon," she laughs, tugging you along. "I think it's time we go back inside..."

I think we have time for one more activity before the night is over. So far, two of my favorite party activities have been second choice in the polls, so we'll choose from those. What's our last stop for the night?

#intox #intox kink #intoxication kink #intox play #intox k1nk #my writing

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artyandink · 5 months

Text

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

six - kind regards, your broken heart

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I have a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

NOW:

Along with being a master at getting myself into life-threatening situations, I was also trained in boxing. Now that I’d fully recovered from the gunshot wound and partially from the attack a week ago, I was taking Olivia through another self-defence class. She’s a natural, if I do say so myself.

“Control the space, c’mon.” I encouraged, tapping her arm to keep her guard up. She began to assert more, making me chuckle breathlessly and nod. “That’s it, attagirl. Now, combo.” I held up my focus mittens, which she hit clean and sharp with a jab, cross punch, a vicious hook before twisting into a spinning hook kick. “Good job, tiger. Keep at it, don’t lose that momentum.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau watching from the grill with a faint smile on his face, making me laughed and shake my head as I continued to work Olivia through the exercise. “Don’t tire on me now.” I encouraged, tapping her arms again to get her guard up. “Bob and weave.” I hook punched, forcing her to bend her knees and duck under my arm, my glove twisting so she could sharply hook punch it. “Good, good! C’mon, just a little more, then we can have a rest. Roundhouse.” I held up the pad, which she kicked perfectly with a satisfying, resounding smack. The action made Beau’s eyebrows raise slightly, impressed, as he watched Olivia and I, my attention solely on Liv.

His eyes trailed from my tied back wavy hair, my forearm brushing back sweaty, loose strands of my hair. Then they lingered on my determined blue eyes, which flashed almost icy white in the glow of the morning. Then came the dewy curvature of my button nose, a bead of sweat trickling down the freckled skin that was promptly wiped. Then came my pretty pink lips, my tongue darting out every now and then to wet them every now and then. A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as his emerald eyes traced the lines of my neck, lingering on a small, prominent freckle on the smooth, unmarked skin. Then came, like a punch to the gut, my slightly defined shoulders and arms, visible because of my tank top. To make things worse (or better), a hint of my bra strap was visible underneath as it shifted and moved along with my agile body. So his eyes wandered lower-

“You ok, there, Dad?” Emily’s taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, that’s it.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m doin’ fine.” Beau nodded, swallowing. “Just… fine.” He gave me a once over, clearing his throat.

Damn it, Sheriff. That’s your deputy, get it together.

I jogged over with a grin, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip from it, the cool water refreshing my lungs. “God, I needed that.” I groaned in satisfaction, rubbing my neck. I then exhaled happily, glancing between the two as I sensed something up. “Did I miss anything?”

“No.” Emily shook her head with an innocent smile. “Not at all.” I flicked my eyes between the two with a twinkle in them, a slight smile playing at my lips.

“A’ight.” I nodded, conceding with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair before rubbing the nape of my neck. I could try and crack the secret code between this father-daughter duo, or I could focus on more pressing matters that I didn’t want Liv to worry about. Such as Cal’s murder, which was confirmed when a body was found dragged into a lake, prints washed off. We still had del Marco in custody, but that told me that it wasn’t enough. We needed the phone. Lucy’s phone, which somebody took. I didn’t know who. “I’m gonna start working the case from the safety of the trailer.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea, darlin’?” Beau broached, corners of his eyes crinkling in concern. “You ain’t exactly in good shape to go after these God awful men.”

“At least I can go after them from a more desk-heavy standpoint.” I shrugged, grimacing as I thought of the night the guys attacked. “I’m just pissed. They could’ve gotten Olivia.” The thought of them laying their hands on Olivia made my blood boil. The things I’d do to them if they ever did come back for a second round, they’d make the Devil blush. And Lucifer probably doesn’t take these things with a heavy heart.

“We can’t go chargin’ like bulls that see red, Belle.” He chastised, folding his arms with a small huff. “You’ve been getting hurt nonstop, and I can’t see that again- I ain’t allowing it. Not anytime soon. As your friend and your sheriff? I suggest you stand down.”

“And I’m not inclined to slack off.” I frowned, copying his expression. “As long as those thugs are out there, my baby girl is in danger. And as long as she isn’t safe, I’m not happy. So I won’t rest until that group is taken down.”

Beau gave me a long and hard look, his tongue wetting his lips before he bit them in frustration, a look which I wasn’t a stranger to, but it seemed oddly more… magnetic… than usual. If that’s a way to describe it. “You’re not gonna listen, huh?”

“No, sir.”

He let out a huff of breath, looking to the sky as he contemplated what to do. Then he nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright. But… if there’s any chance that we need a tactical squad, which is pretty high, you stay at the back.”

I gave him a grin, knowing I’d won. It didn’t take long, since nobody was bothered to deal with my stubbornness. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

He just grumbled and looked away.

I was dropping off Tom to Harry’s house after picking up Liv from their date. I had mixed feelings about Tom, which didn’t feel rather fair, and as an officer of the law, fair judgement is mandatory. On one hand, Olivia seemed happy with him. Really happy. He was sweet (by what I’d heard from Olivia’s lovesick rambling), cared for her and was an all-around gentleman, even though Olivia was older by a few months. I could respect that much. But… he was Harry’s son. Adopted son, so thankfully the bad genes didn’t pass on, but still.

I could still remember the features of his, the ones I admired on a daily basis. The twinkling, charming green blue eyes, the winning smile, fluffy brown blonde hair, the deep, warm laugh that never failed to be contagious- the hell am I mixing Harry up with? Harry’s laugh sounded like the laugh of that grandpa from New York that Olivia showed me once on YouTube but ten times worse. And I can’t believe I found his Missouri accent even one attractive when it doesn’t compare to a Texas accent on a deep voice- where the hell is Texas coming from?!

I walked Tom up the steps to Harry’s house, which was quite literally the picture of picket fence perfection. Only thing missing from the meticulously mowed lawn, carved, painted white, wooden fence and the peach house paired with a red roof was a line of flowery bushes- oh wait, they have that too.

I could’ve had this. But I blew it, with me, myself and my workaholic disposition.

I swallowed, leading the sandy-haired teenager up the steps and knocking on the door to Harry’s house, the man himself opening the door and flashing the smile that always picked my spirits up, but I only got a weird feeling since my stomach sank at the same time this time around. “Harry.”

“Issy.” He moved aside so Tom could walk in, giving him a brief hug before turning back to me. His eyes looked me over, a look in his eye that I couldn’t place. “You look…”

“Horrible, I know.” I chuckled, looking away uncomfortably, a small, polite grin on my face as I tried my hardest not to burst and start yelling about how he ruined me. I half expected him to agree, but then I felt a pressure on my shoulder and found him smiling affectionately as the hand dropped to squeeze my bicep almost imperceptibly. The hell?

“I think you look beautiful.” Harry whispered, making my breath catch in my throat and bile almost shoot up from wherever it comes from. This man is-is married.

“R-Rhea!” I stammered way too loudly, plastering a patronising grin on my face as I shrugged his hand off. “How’s your wife?”

“She’s ok.” He nodded, looking somewhat dejected. I cleared my throat, stepping back to keep distance between him and I.

“That’s good.” Awkward silence, as expected when your married ex is hitting on you. “I have to go. Got work, cases to solve, all that.”

“I see.” He agreed quietly, and I turned on my heel, booking the hell out of there.

Beau hurried to Dewell and Hoyt’s office, where he found the trifecta- Jenny, Cassie and Denise. They all were looking at him with matching knowing glances which told him his game was up. But- hold on a second - what game was there in the first place? No game here, no siree. But there they were, Denise, Jenny and Cassie, all staring at him with looks that said ‘I know your secret’ but the secret was nonexistent, right?

“Emily told us.” Jenny grinned, spinning a pen in between her fingers as she snickered like a cartoon villain.

“How you checked Deputy Joyner out.” Cassie smirked, pumping her eyebrows. His face instantly flushed red; he hadn’t checked his deputy out. He was gauging her suitability to… get back on the job. That’s it. That’s right.

“Or Belle, as you call her.” Denise teased, filing her nails with the wrong side of the filer. “Is there somethin’ you’re not telling us, Bo-Bo?”

“I think y’all are insane.” Beau snorted, averting his eyes nervously. “Belle… and-and me? And I, grammatically speaking. No. Nah, she swore off men, remember? She swore off men. After Harry the ass, who is back in town, by the way, s-she doesn’t need any more men drama.”

“C’mon, I wanna see Jarlen happen.” Cassie pouted.

“Oh my god, Jarlen!” Jenny gasped, nodding frantically. “I was gonna call it Belleau.”

Denise grimaced in agreement, her head also bobbing up and down. “Jarlen works.”

“Jarlen it is.” Cassie smirked, staring straight into Beau’s soul. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for even thinking about his deputy that way. Though… it wouldn’t hurt, right?

It was true that he felt a bit… partial… to the momma bear, ass protecting beaut of a deputy, but he hadn’t been that obvious with it… unless he had.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.”

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile.

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

“You’re very welcome, young lady.” And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.

“Ay, ay, ay! Who let her out?” He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beau’s own to accept how I was now capable of walking. “A’ight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.” He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didn’t look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. “Since you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasn’t found the guy who hurt you, but we’ll find him.”

“Yeah, I heard you reopened your sister’s murder investigation.” Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.

“No way, your sister was murdered?” She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, they’re good at the ‘look’.

“Em, let’s try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.”

“Your enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but let’s dial it down a little.” Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-“Are you doin’ ok, darlin’?”

There it is.

“Just fine.” I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. “I’m fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.” I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

Yeah, maybe he was a little too partial. But he couldn’t help it. Elle Joyner was… likeable, charming, funny, had the most beautiful eyes… he couldn’t help falling for her liking her as much as he did.

“Bo-Bo?” Denise’s lilt took him out of memory lane, matching smirks again on all three of their faces. “You’re a little spacy.”

Beau raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.

That night, I was up late, working a case. I’d sent Olivia to bed after having the leftovers from the last takeout and a quick goodbye before she went to Dean’s. I flicked through the sheafs of paper, and I found a picture of Lucy and I. Lucy had a tattoo on her right wrist that made me sit up. I’d never seen her with it before, so it intrigued me more than it usually would.

045114.

The hell was that for? Just a random number?

I swept my hand down my mouth, biting my bottom lip before I shut the file, lying down in the bed Beau had made for me, pulling the covers up to my chin as I shut my eyes, already in my pyjamas. I scrolled on my phone, coming across a voicemail from… Harry. The moment I played it, the slurred syllables told me he had gotten into the beer.

‘Heya, Isa, just wanted t-to say, m’so in love w’ya. Can’t get enough o’ya. Just wanted you t’know. Especially since it’s been how long? A-Ah, three years. Can’t get o’er ya. C-Call me.’

I felt bad for Rhea.

I turned over in bed, too tired to even forward the voicemail to her and blindly putting the phone on the bedside table. My eyelids felt like anvils midair being pulled down by the cruel force of gravity, so I fell asleep soon after. However, that was short lived when I got up a few hours later, panting in what could only be the aftershocks of a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes, my hands travelling to my arms over the hoodie that Beau lent me. It went down to my mid-thigh, I was that small. I saw a wet spot appear on the chest area, and I swallowed, realising that my breath was shakier and more ragged than normal and my cheeks were tainted with tears. I instantly grabbed a tissue, wiping them. I didn’t want to ruin his hoodie any further with my angst that rivalled a teenager’s.

On the way out of the trailer, finding the still-burning fire, I took the photo of Lucy and I out, taken from the time we had been at her first wedding in Dean’s home town: Roseburg, Oregon. I sat down at a chair by the fire, the hoodie practically swallowing my body up in an attempt for warmth. Dean had his lips pressed to Lucy’s hair, his hands tickling her sides and making her let out a laugh that was too beautiful for this world. I was holding the bouquet like a trophy, since I’d caught it, but I, in fact, was not next.

My great aunt Bertha got married to her neighbourhood’s milkman, Samuel, before I could even score a date.

And then Dean and Lucy divorced due to work schedule problems, and Lucy found Mark. Not my favourite choice, but she still married someone. Here I was, yearning for someone at 40 years old who probably didn’t yearn for me back. I’m a mess of a human, aren’t I?

“Belle, darlin’?” Beau showed up at the door to his trailer, his hands desperately trying to smooth his blasted hedgehog hair while his eyes blearily took in the scene, concern bleeding onto his rugged features as he took a step forward, immediately sensing that I was deep in thought. “S’late, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head a’yours, hm?” He also deduced my half-assed attempt for warmth, so he whipped his coat off, tucking it around my shoulders before lunging to get a blanket that he placed over my legs. He then sat down next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder that he used to draw me into his chest, his other large hand gripping my thigh slightly to move my legs in a more comfortable position. By instinct, my hand went over his heart.

Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat was oddly comforting.

“Mind tellin’ me what’s got my favourite deputy sporting a face like a wet weekend?” Beau asked softly, his fingers rubbing through my hair, teasing out any random knots, because of course there had to be imperfections in what could be a perfect moment.

His lips almost pressed against my hair, ghosting over for a moment before he decided against it, his cheek nuzzling the soft strands instead. I sighed, biting my lip. “I think the case is taking its toll on my sleep.” I replied quietly, rubbing my puffy red eye. “Had a nightmare that Olivia was kidnapped. And had a flashback of when Cal died. So many numbers…”

“What do you mean by that, sweet girl?” He proved further, his thumb tracing my cheekbone before sweeping down to line my jaw. The touches helped me relax and stop the panicking, which helped a lot with recall. My muscles relaxed, my breathing slowing down and telling my watch that I no longer needed to be recommended breathing exercises.

“Cal’s wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.” I frowned, pouting slightly. “541458. Can’t help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.”

“They’re both connected?”

“Maybe. Just need to figure out how.”

“S’all well and good, but I think you need t’calm yourself down.” He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I don’t know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. “You’re always taking care of others, darlin’. Time for someone to take care o’ you.”

My first instinct was to protest. “But-”

“But nothin’. We’re gonna stay here, and when you’re calm, we’ll go back inside and I’m gonna stay with you. Then we can take a proper crack at del Marco. Got it?”

I deflated, nodding. “Yes, sir.” I giggled at the end, which earned a deep chuckle from him too.

“Deputy, you make me feel old sometimes.” We sat like that in silence, until Beau felt that I’d calmed down enough. He helped me up, tidying away the blanket and extinguishing the fire, switching on his phone torch so we had a light to help us walk. When we got to my bed, he gestured for me to lay down, probably as a ‘ladies first’, and I did. He got in next to me, making sure that the covers were snugly over me before drawing me closer, his arm around my waist protectively. My back facing his chest, his breath on the back of my neck.

It all felt so unfamiliar.

“G’night, Belle.”

“Night, Sheriff.”

The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beau’s arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didn’t. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact I’d gotten over the past few years. Maybe I’m touched starved. Yeah, that’s it.

I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucy’s leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. “G’morning, Belle. Sleep ok?”

“Just peachy.” I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didn’t find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. “Let’s go.”

At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. “Finally, you brought her here.” He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. “I only got one thing to say. One thing only.”

“And what’s that?” Jenny asked, her expression stony.

“It better be good, otherwise you’re lookin’ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.” Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.

“MARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife @xxannyxx

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

#beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau #beau arlen fanfiction #big sky #cassie dewell #jenny hoyt #light my fire

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made-ofmemories · 5 months

Text

Seven(ish) sentence Sunday

Tagged by @ladydorian05

Here is way more than 7 sentences of a new buddie fic I've been working on. Tentative title is: 'if you don't come back'.

Snippet under the cut

Tw for: mention of blood, minor injuries & Eddie being hurt

"And Chris-" He was right by Buck's side just a minute ago then Bobby and the rest of the team had shown up and Buck had taken his eyes off him for a second and oh God he doesn't know where Chris is. The panic starts to rise in his throat all over again. "Where's Chris?"

Buck pushes away, intending to go where exactly he isn't sure but he needs to find Chris. Except he doesn't get much further than wobbling unsteadily on his feet without Bobby holding him up. He's fairly certain he'd have fallen if not for Bobbys quick reflexes, hooking his hands under Buck's arms when he sways forward, too exhausted to hold himself upright.

“Ravi’s got him, Hen and Chim are taking care of Eddie we’re going to transport him in a minute. You and Chris are riding in the engine with us.”

“No." He tries again to push away, this time to get to Eddie, but his legs are still jello beneath him and refuse to co-operate. "I want to go in the ambulance."

“Buck.” Bobby says sternly but not unkindly and Buck feels a little like a chastised child. "We'll be right behind them. He's stable and he's in good hands, you know that. You also know that we need to let Hen and Chim do their jobs, the best thing for everyone right now is if you and Chris travel with us."

“Ok." He deflates a little, shoulders slumping in defeat because he knows deep down that Bobby is right about this even if he doesn't like it. "We'll go in the engine."

“Come on, we’ll get you something for that arm until they can patch you up at the hospital."

"My-" Buck follows Bobby's gaze, looks down at the blood splatters on the tarmac and the gash on his forearm. Right. He forgot about that, can barely even feel it through the adrenaline haze. He's sure it'll hit him soon, along with the concussion and the broken ribs. "Right. My arm. Yeah we should probably do something about that."

@loveyouanyway @your-catfish-friend @nmcggg @jesuiscenseedormir @aroeddiediaz @inell

#911 #buddie #fuck it friday #fic: if you don't come back #writing angst is not something I usually do so this fic has been an interesting experience so far

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actual-gremlin · 5 months

Note

I swear on my life I’ll answer your coco puffs ask soon

Anyways.

What are your coco puff headcankns

My first actual ask!!

ok so I love these little guys!! I don’t know what order to put these in, so apologies for how unorganized it is!

I’m going to give you general info then descriptions of each coco puff and stuff they like such as food or affection.

They feel a strong connection to people who are feeling the emotions they represent. (Grief tends to gravitate towards people who are grieving, isolation can be found with people who feel isolated, etc). If the emotion is strong enough, they can actually go inside the person. The way that works is they evaporate into a soul type thing and then their coco-puff soul goes into the person. When the person has confronted what they're feeling, the coco-puff soul will come out and they will return to their regular coco-puff form. (I know this is a weird head canon, but I think it’s a really cool power. It kind of ties into Nicos shadow travel almost??)

They are so soft!! Think kitten fur, but 100 times softer! Because of their soft fur, they’re very good for helping people relax when they’re stressed.

They all look different. They’re different shapes, sizes and shade. Their shadow fur (I don’t know what to call it lol) is all shades of black, but it changes depending on the emotions of the people they’re near. So the stronger the emotion, the darker the colour of their shadow fur. They also have one distinct feature that lets you know which coco puff it is.

They will eat literally anything. If it’s on the ground, they’ll eat it. Dead leaves? You can find Grief snacking on them 24/7. Fruit cups? Internalized Homophobia will eat not only the fruit, but also the plastic. They are literally raccoons.

they don’t really have a gender, so they’re generally referred to as ‘it’ if you’re talking about a specific one or ‘they’ if you’re talking about more than one.

they all come running when Will Sonic- Whistles like little puppies!

the older they get, the bigger they get. Cuties 🥰

The Different Coco-puffs

Isolation: basket ball sized with one big eye. In the shape of a sphere. He’s also spiky! Isolation either rolls on the ground, squishes into someone’s hood, or floats after people. Isolation is very affectionate- although it’s spikes make it hard for him to cuddle ☹️- and it lives off of strawberries and jello

Grief: grief looks like your typical ghost. More solid near the head, but slowly becomes more transparent near the “legs”. Grief has two eyes, little horns- kind of like the ones you put on your dog at Christmas- and little hands (like a T-Rex!) Grief floats after people. it’s not super affectionate- more k a lurker 👀 its favourite food is bacon (me too buddy, me too) but dead leaves are it’s chosen snack if bacon isn’t available

Jealousy: Jealousy and Isolation are twins! They look very similar, but Jealousy has little tusks and doesn’t have spikes. It also floats after people, but it also sits on people’s shoulders. Jealousy LOVES affection, and is very attached to Will specifically. It hates when Will gets affection from anyone other than Nico or itself. Jealousy loves the typical breakup foods- ice cream- ONLY cookie dough though, chips- sour cream and onion or salt and vinegar, pizza- chicken bacon ranch, and cookies- any cookie is a good cookie (yes, even oatmeal raisin).

Shame: Shame looks like a cat- long and lanky with the ears and whiskers. No back paws though, only the front ones. Shame has two cat eyes that bore into your soul. Shame often twists around people and tries to make them trip. Shames idea of affection is tripping people, scaring them, or making them dump stuff on themselves. (Shame is a little shit and tries to inflict itself on others😑✋🏻) It loves any food, but it has to be leftovers. No fresh food for some reason idk I don’t make the rules.

Sadness: Sadness is a large spider. The first time Annabeth saw Sadness, she tried to set it on fire. (All coco-puffs are fireproof. And waterproof. And everything proof. They only die when Nico dies). Sadness has two doe eyes. . It loves cuddles even more than Isolation and is often seen attached to the first person it sees when it wakes up. (Sadness is like a koala pass it on!) Sadness’ favourite food is pancakes! They’re so nostalgic and yummy! Doesn’t matter what topping is on them, Sadness will eat it.

Guilt: Guilt is just a blob. A very heavy blob. All the coco- puffs are pretty much weightless, except for guilt. When guilt is on you, you feel it. Guilt is always attached to someone, often crawling around their body. It doesn’t eat and is restless, rarely sleeping.

Internalized Homophobia: looks like a baby deer with male antlers. It HATES people and prefers staying in Nicos cabin or Wills office in the infirmary. It only eats asparagus and Brussels sprouts. Why? Because no one likes asparagus or Brussel sprouts and no one likes having Internalized Homophobia. (If you like these things, no you don’t. Liar).

So I think that’s all of them?? For now?? I don’t know. If I think of more, I’ll reblog this with the additions! thank you for the ask!! If you want me to expand on anything, let me know and I will!

#Woah I got an ask #Ask #mutuals #cocopuffs #tsats #percy jackson #nico di angelo #will solace #camp halfblood #long post

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nefelibata-cloud · 10 months

Text

🅐🅤🅡🅞🅡🅐

pt. 2 New Horizons.

series master list | previous | next

a/n: honestly, i had no idea what to do for this part…anyways so it probably isn’t my best work, but i hope it’s still enjoyable anyways.

content warnings: a little cussing, kaeya makes an appearance and calls y/n “sweet thing” and “pretty thing”

* * *

“she was found on the shore, unconscious and badly injured. as you can see, it looks like she was attacked.”

“it’s the fatui’s doing.” a sigh. “when she wakes up give her food and water, and inform me immediately.”

“yes, sir.”

you hear a door shut and you try to open your eyes, but they’re just too heavy and you feel yourself losing consciousness again.

when you finally come to, you find yourself in a nice room and a large comfy bed.

where are you?

you bring your legs towards the edge of the bed, noticing that someone changed your clothes.

you get up and slowly walk towards the door. just as you’re about to open it, it starts to swing towards you and you’re met face to face with a maid.

“oh! you’re up! please lay back down! i’ll go fetch something for you to eat, and inform the master.”

you silently nod, recognizing her and shuffle back to the bed.

the master?

you twiddle your thumbs and continue surveying the room from your position on the bed.

not too long after, the door opens again and in comes the maid with a tray of food.

“the master will meet you in his study in a little bit to ask you some questions,” she says as she sets the tray in your lap.

“umm…ok.”

you take a look at what’s in front of you: a bowl of soup, a slice of bread, and some jello.

this looks like hospital food.

she begins to bring a spoonful of the soup to your lips.

“i can feed myself,” you mumble.

“no, you need to save your strength.”

“but i feel fine.”

she gives you a look, and you know to just shut your mouth and let her feed you.

“umm… how long was i out for?”

“about a week and a half.”

you almost freak out, then remember that time moves faster in this world, and a day here is only about an hour in your world.

after you’ve finished all that you can eat, she gets up after helping clean off your face.

“now let’s get you dressed to see the master.”

you nod, and she proceeds to clap and in comes two more maids.

they help to bathe you and get you dressed into something one of the maids had on hand.

“adelinde, can you pass me that hair pin?”

adelinde? isn’t that the possibly cannibal maid that works under diluc?

finally, after spending so much time dressing you up, you’re finally ready to see the master.

adelinde leads you through the mansion towards a dark wooden door. she knocks twice and a familiar voice says “come in.”

she opens the door and gestures for you to go in before closing the door behind you, leaving you alone in the room which you now realize is an office, an office with a familiar red headed winery owner.

“how are you feeling?”

“i’m fine,” you catch yourself from saying “diluc” at the end. you’re not sure if it’s a good idea to let him know that you know about him. or to be so informal with him.

he gestures to a set of couches facing each other with a coffee table in between. “have a seat.”

you nod and make your way to sit on one of the couches and he follows and sits across from you.

“when one of my people found you at the base of the waterfall. do you remember what happened before that?”

you hesitate. “i was lost in dragonspine trying to find my way to mondstadt, then i got abducted by some fatui. they threw me in the water and i fell down the waterfall.”

“did they ask you anything before that?”

“umm… after i woke up, a skirmisher asked me if i knew anything about ‘the star’ and when i didn’t know anything he just said to throw me into the water and that’s all i remember.”

“what were you doing in dragonspine?”

“i-“ you hesitate. would it be okay to tell him that you just woke up there? would he believe you if you said you don’t remember?

“never mind. where are you from?”

oh…how do i answer this?

“umm…”

“what’s your name?”

“y/n. y/n l/n.”

“diluc ragnvindr.”

“i know.” shit.

he raises an eyebrow at you and you go wide eyed.

“i mean- who doesn’t know about you? you own the infamous dawn winery, right?” you say, catching yourself.

he doesn’t seem to believe you, but he doesn’t question you further about the topic, but does ask you more regarding your abduction by the fatui, asking what they look like, where you were when you were abducted and the like.

“well, you can stay here for the time being.”

“really?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“yes?” he says, looking at you just as confused. “unless there was somewhere else you’d like to stay? do you have any mora on you?”

“no,” you say, then add. “the fatui took it all.”

“the fatui did?” he asks. “treasure hoarders i would understand, but fatuus?”

“um yeah…one of them must of been a greedy bastard, that or i lost it all in the fall.”

he nods. “well, it’s decided then, you’ll stay here and i’ll assign one of the maids to you, feel free to ask them for whatever you need.” he then gets up and goes back to his desk.

“umm ok.” you awkwardly get up and leave the room, wandering back to the guest room.

you’ve been at the dawn winery for a couple days, rarely seeing diluc except at ungodly hours of the night if you happened to be up at that time for some reason.

if you wanted to go anywhere, you had to be accompanied by a maid. had to use the bathroom? a maid was standing right outside the door. wanted to go for a walk around the vineyard? you had to be followed by one sometimes two. you wanted to read in the common room? elzer or scullion were in the room with you doing work.

today, you were curled up on a couch under a window in the common area, reading one of the books from diluc’s collection. it had caught your interest and you were close to finishing it.

soaking in the afternoon light, you hear the door open but pay no mind to it until you hear adelinde welcome back master diluc.

you look up to see him taking off his coat and handing it to scullion.

he looks over to you as you give him a small wave, and he responds with a nod your way, before you get back to your book.

you expect him to just be on his merry way, but you hear footsteps approaching you.

“would you like to go into mondstadt with me tomorrow?”

you look up, surprised. “umm, sure. is there any special occasion or…?”

“nothing special, i just need to go into town for business, and you’ve been cooped up inside, thought you might like it.”

you stare for a bit more before smiling softly. “sure, i’d like that!”

he doesn’t respond immediately, but eventually says “alright, i’ll be leaving at 11, so be ready by then.”

he waits for you to respond with an “okay,” and when you do, he nods before walking off, presumably to his office.

you spend the rest of your afternoon reading your book, and manage to finish it just before dinner time.

right as you were getting up to return the book, there’s another knock on the door. adelinde goes to open it and greets the guest.

“master kaeya! welcome back! master diluc is up in his study right now.”

“ah, thanks. i just have a few questions to ask him.”

he begins to make his way towards the stairs when he catches sight of you out of the corner of his.

“oh, well hello, and who might you be?”

“i’m y/n.”

he approaches you.

“i haven’t seen you around before, y/n, where are you from, sweet thing?”

“um-“

“what do you want this time, kaeya?” diluc interrupts from the railing above.

“what? i can’t come and visit?” kaeya pouts. “besides, why didn’t you tell you were keeping such a pretty thing hostage?”

“the guests i keep are of no concern of yours,” diluc says. “and as for your first statement, i’d rather you not-“

you hear adelinde clear her throat quietly.

“but since you’re already here,” he starts, seeming to struggle with what he’s about to say. “why don’t you stay for dinner?”

“oh no, i couldn’t. i just came by because i needed some help with a case.”

diluc raises an eyebrow. “whatever it is, it has nothing to do with me.”

“you’re right, but are you saying i can’t ask the uncrowned king of mondstadt for some help?”

“don’t call me that.”

“why not? you’re the one with the most money and the largest plot of land in mondstadt.”

“i don’t care, don’t call me that.”

you try to hold back a giggle at their bickering.

“if i may,” you start, earning the attention of both the pyro and cryo users, and hold up the book. “master diluc, this is the book i borrowed from your study. thank you for letting me read it, i enjoyed it!”

“oh, i’m glad you enjoyed it, and just diluc is fine.”

kaeya makes a mildly surprised expression but stays quiet.

“thank you, diluc.”

he nods, then looks to kaeya. “come on up, let’s get this over with.” his demeanor shows he’s not looking forward to this in the slightest.

kaeya smirks and nods, and then looks at you. “i can take that book up for you,” he says with a kind smile, whilst laying his hand out for you.

you hand it to him. “thank you-“ you catch yourself and pause, realizing he didn’t really introduce himself yet. ”umm… kaeya.”

he smiles, and then goes up the stairs to chase after diluc who is already at the door to his office.

you watch and then go to your room.

“a guest, huh?” kaeya says as soon as the door closes.

“yes, a guest.”

“not a hostage?”

“can you just get on with what you came for?”

“alright alright,” kaeya puts his hands up in mock surrender.

* * *

previous | series master list | next

#genshin impact #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact x reader #sagau

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soaps-hoe-141 · 1 year

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Still in shadowban purgatory but here ya go anyway. I've also put my fics up on AO3 if anyone wants to go check them out

Drowning In The Depths

Back Together

Part 6

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 8k

Synopsis: Reader is doing the interrogating now, get in there Speck

Warnings: NSFW smut, lil bit of violence but no one died

No sense in sitting around waiting for John to say it again. You pushed yourself up to your elbows, his hand still splayed across your back as you felt the beginnings of resistance on his end. Glancing his way you caught sight of the furrowed brunette brows, he wanted to know what was wrong. You could hear the question even before he asked it. “Nothing’s wrong, John. Don’t get comfortable right?” You faked an easy smile despite the tightness in your throat that you hid so well. Too well, really.

Immediately his head was shaking though as his hand pressed into your back with the full force of his strength, blocking you from getting up. His hard look fixed on you as he said, “That’s not what I meant. If it were up to me I'd never let you leave this bed again." You shifted underneath his hand earning a look that just screamed, 'Try me.' Your tense jaw and darting eyes were all he needed to see to know you didn't believe what he was saying.

Didn't mean it like that? How else could he have meant it? The man had fucked the daylights out of you and then told you to get dressed and leave. Wasn't much room left for interpretation there, was there? But you just needed him to get off you, believe you for a second so you could get out of this already embarrassing situation. "Ok, what do you need help with then?" The hand on your back didn’t relent but at least his gaze was softening once more.

A sigh fell from him before he answered, "The guy we brought in. He won't speak to anyone but you, requested you specifically. Laswell needs you to talk to him." What the fuck? Why you? Your dog had nearly taken his whole arm off and now he wanted to talk to you? Did he have any common sense?

Jesus Christ. You were already feeling tired just at the thought. He wanted an answer though and so you gave him a slow nod, "Fine. I'll talk to him, alright?" The hand finally pulled away and you sat up, scooting up the bed to grab your clothes off the table where he'd laid them earlier. Shifting to the edge of the bed you started to pull your pants up your calves, struggling to get the fabric up your sweaty skin.

He put a hand on your shoulder though with a humorous look in his eyes, "Might want to clean up first, Love." Embarrassment flooded through you at the comment as you glanced down to see the growing wet stain on his sheets. Fucked you, finished in you, hell the man basically owned you at this point. You pushed yourself up, but when you stood your legs felt like jello. Knees as weak as newborn foal after the thorough pounding you'd just been given.

Hands were around your hips in a moment, pulling you back to sit on his lap and making your entire body tense with the effort of not staining his clothes like you had his sheets. He nudged his chin up onto your shoulder, the tip of his nose grazing against the side of your neck, warm against your already too hot skin. "Let me help you," he cooed in your ear, even annoyed with him you couldn't deny the hold he had on you. Damn he did own you. You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder, watching as he pulled the shirt off the bedside table and worked it underneath your legs. The fabric scraped your skin as he cleaned himself off you as best he could.

You shifted and tensed again and you could feel him smirk against your skin, "Guess you'll have to keep the rest of it from leaking out till you can get to the shower, huh?" Fuck him. Wait no don't fuck him. Damnit though he knew what he was doing. Pulling you against him and trying to make you horny again so you'd forget…What were you supposed to be forgetting again? He hummed in a questioning tone and without even thinking you nodded to him. You'd say yes to anything so long as he kept touching you. Shit weren't you supposed to be angry at him?

His hands slid down your thighs to pull at the waistband of your pants. You felt them slide up slowly but with relative ease. Reaching up to do the buttons he grabbed your wrists and you felt the scratch of his beard on your skin as he shook his head, "No. I told you to let me help you." His fingers grazed up your forearm and you gave another slow nod in answer. He moved back to your pants slowly, buttoning them with expert fingers as he looked down your bare chest.

Lips pressed into your skin just below your ear before he whispered, "Put your boots on, and I'll get you another shirt." Your head shook as your hands shot back to grab at his sides, rolling your hips against him with newfound need. There was a smile in his voice as he said, "Yes," and he stilled your squirming body with his hands at your waist. "Boots on," he slid you off his lap and back to the bed despite the whine you let out asking him for more. Pressing a kiss to your cheek he muttered a quick, "Not right now," before he moved to a large duffel bag sitting on a chair.

You leaned over to slide your socks on before your boots, lacing them up as quickly as you could while also stealing glances up at his back and ass. Damn he looked good in military fatigues. He looked good in everything honestly. Your eyes shot to the floor the second you saw his body turning though, finishing lacing up your other boot, he didn't need to know you were watching him.

John cleared his throat as he handed you the shirt, forcing you to look up at him as you took it. Sliding it over your head he reached a hand down to help you up off the bed. Steadying you with his hands by wrapping his arms around your back and fitting your body snugly against his. He was so warm it was if he was radiating heat right now. It was nearly suffocating and yet you couldn't bring yourself to move away. Not until he asked quietly, "Are you ready to go?" That's why you had been mad at him, he was trying to get rid of you. Don't pull away though, he'll only prolong this, whatever this is. This softening of the blow?

Instead you nodded, feeling his arms loosen their grip as he pulled away. His fingers lingering on your sides for just a moment before all his heat was gone and he was moving towards the door. Your first step drew a hiss from your lips, back tensing with the effort of moving. And then you felt it, his cum trying to drip out of you. Your eyes went wide and he caught your look, his face casting in worry as he took a step back towards you not realizing what had made you stop so suddenly. "No," you stopped him with a raised hand, "I'm fine. Shit I thought you cleaned me up," your back stiffened and you stood a little taller, your whole lower body clenching at the foreign feeling.

The smirk on his face set your blood alight as he shrugged, "Most of it yeah. Be good and I'll eat the rest out later, yeah?" Your eyes shut as you tried to control your thoughts to keep the blood from rushing back below your belt. You'd just gotten rid of the last erection you couldn't handle another one, not right now, and especially not when you had to go interrogate someone. Beside you were angry at him, it was like he was trying to make a fool of you or something. Right?

Swallowing hard, you took another testing step and opened your eyes again. You were sore but you could manage, no worse than the last few times. Don't let him see you struggling, that'd only make this whole thing worse. The last thing you needed was him knowing how easily he controlled your mind. A deep breath and you were ready, glancing out the window cautiously before he opened the door to let you out. Trying to match his strides though was not going to work, you were at a severe disadvantage. Your entrance was still throbbing from his ministrations and you had to stay clenched impossibly tight so you didn't end up ruining the only fresh pair of pants you had.

Were they really all that fresh now though? You sighed at the thought and thankfully John slowed to match your pace without you needing to ask. He didn't talk or banter, he was back to business. Eyes were on him and he had information he needed you to pull out of someone. This was work John, Captain Price, and while sometimes the two mingled right now he was all Captain. The office he directed you into was bigger than you'd expected, and the woman behind the desk had her eyes on you the second you stepped through the door. John stepped in right behind you, moving to stand beside her desk with his arms crossed over his chest like a mediator or something.

Laswell's smile was polite but you weren't sure if it was sincere or not. And she almost looked strained when she said, "Has Captain Price detailed our situation to you?" You nodded slowly and she stood up, "Good. I assume you don't need a translator to converse with him?" You shook your head in answer and she continued, "Perfect. He won't say anything to the translator except that he wants to talk to the man with the dog. Your conversation will be monitored the whole time." She opened a drawer and pulled out a case of small ear pieces before handing one to you, "You'll be wearing this. I'll need you to ask him questions for me, can you do that?" Another quick nod and you pressed the bud down into your ear, tensing at the squeal as it settled.

Sweeping your tongue over your lips to wet your dry mouth and taking a deep breath you turned your attention back to her, "Where's he at?" She beckoned you with a quick wave as she left the room, guiding you and John both through the halls. Opening a door into a dark room she stepped inside. You followed, turning to glance through a one way window into the other room. The man was handcuffed by himself, the room devoid of anything but a chair for him to sit in and another for whoever else was in the room. He stared blankly ahead as she handed you a file. The way he was staring felt almost like he was watching you through the one way mirror. Like he knew you were there.

When you opened it you frowned at the contents. It was only a few surveillance photos that were inside of him from a while ago. You looked up at her with a questioning gaze and she said, "His name is Labeeb el-Haider. We don't have much on him from recently but he used to be a part of a small resistance group. Switched sides for some reason, we don't know why." You nodded as you examined the photos from his resistance days, glancing at the patch on his shoulder. You knew that group, you'd fought alongside that group. The markings on his jacket meant he was a General. And he'd switched sides? Laswell wouldn't let you dwell on it for too long though as she motioned to him, "Just ask him the questions I need you too and get him to talk."

You were quick to exit the observation room, stopping outside the door when the soldier guarding it turned to punch in a code on the keypad beside them. When the light turned green they gave you a nod and you pushed inside. You moved slowly into the room, watching him follow the sounds of your footsteps but he refused to turn around and find you. The man stayed quiet as you stood behind him, and you could see his eyes flicking up to you in the mirror but not holding your gaze. Sitting was not something you were ready to do just yet so instead you leaned back against the wall, watching him quietly with interest. Waiting to see what he would do in your absence to do anything.

Patience was one of the few virtues you were blessed with, and you were willing to wait for him to break first. His hand ran along his forearm, over the bandages he was sporting after coming into contact with Cerberus' powerful jaws. Once he realized just who it was behind him, it didn't take long for him to speak up, "Pashto?" You nodded slowly to his question as he fell quiet for a few more seconds watching you in the glass. "Arabic?" Another nod to his question and he was beginning to shift at the uncomfortable silence. "English?" Yet another nod and you watched his jaw tense as he sat up a little taller.

His leg was bouncing, so he was nervous. He'd gotten his demand but you were sure he wasn't expecting to have succeeded. His next question came in a mix of Pashto and Arabic, he was either trying to confuse a translator that might be watching and hide what he was saying, or he was an idiot. You were fairly sure it was the former, "Is it really you?" You resisted the urge to tilt your head, just continuing to watch him quietly. Truly you had no idea what he was talking about but he didn't need to know that.

Your silence was off-putting. He'd expected to be talked to, interrogated, yet here you were with three languages at your disposal and still as silent as ever. His eyes kept flicking up to watch you in the glass until he noticed you were still very much watching him and then he shot his eyes back down to the ground. Laswell's voice came through in your ear then as she questioned you, "He knows you?" You stared hard at the glass, as if you were staring straight through to the person you knew was behind it and currently trying to interrogate you.

Even if he did know you, you didn't know him. Or at least you didn't remember him. The mixture of Arabic and Pashto assaulted your ears again as he spoke, "You are still working with the Admiral, yes Speck?" Your gaze narrowed at him, head tilting finally as you came around his chair. You sat in front of him, stiffening for a moment as you leaned forward, watching him closely. How did he know your call sign? How did he know your face? No one was supposed to know who you were, that was why you could do what you do.

Laswell's voice came through the earpiece, "Tell him that you are, Speck." They'd cracked his little mixed language scheme it seemed. Maybe he was just an idiot then. An idiot who knew too much about things that he shouldn't. This man was pushing his fucking luck.

Slowly you nodded an affirmative to him. You hadn't worked with the Admiral for almost a year, your undercover work with him had been the reason you were in the UK in the first place. Obviously he hadn’t been given all the information. The cover works for you though. "Prove it," he demanded in a quiet whisper of Arabic. Apparently he was dropping the Pashto altogether. That was fine, he was shit at speaking it anyway.

You sat back in the chair, your back straight and stiff as you rolled up your sleeve. Shoving your forearm forward you showed him the small brand of an anchor at the inside of your wrist. It was almost imperceptible, it'd be lost on anyone who wasn't actually looking for it. But he saw it, you noticed the second his eyes locked onto the little scar. And then you struck.

Your fingers slid around his throat, tightening their hold even as he jerked his hands up to stop you. Leaning down over him you growled in Arabic, "You do not make demands of me. Do it again and I'll make sure you never walk out of here." His eyes looked anywhere but up at you.

He'd forgotten to fear you, that healthy dose that kept worms like him alive. He should have remembered well if he really thought you were still working with that idiot the Admiral. Laswell was in your ear, telling you to let him go, that this wasn't the plan but she didn't know what you did. She didn't know the part you'd been set to play now. She had asked for this and you were going to deliver.

The fingers stayed wrapped around his throat, tightening impossibly more as you watched his life drain, until finally he managed a nod and you dropped your hand from his sensitive trachea. Pulling your sleeve back down you took a step back, finding your seat slowly, still tensed as you sat with your arms crossed. His hands ran over his throat as if to assure himself he could still breathe.

Your face was set in a hard scowl, you had a part to play and you would play it well. You always did. His shaky Arabic came out slowly as he asked, "No one is watching us or listening?" You shook your head slowly in answer, eyes boring into him, making sure he kept his own line of sight down. "H-How did-" you cut his question off with a hand around his wrist.

He stared down at it, there was fear in those eyes. Good. "Ask another question and I will break it, understand?" The nod came quickly in answer as you tightened your hold anyway. "Answer a question wrong and I will break it, understand?" Another vigorous nod had his hair falling in his face. "Good," you sat back letting his hand go as your eyes found the wall over his head, seeming to think for a moment. "Where is the family I came to the house for?" His eyes shot up to you just as yours lowered back to him.

The urge to lie danced on his face. You could see it in his eyes plain as day but your threats were fresh. His danger at your hands was much more imminent than anyone else's were. And he was a coward. Only a coward's loyalty could be bought and sold by terrorists. "Zabol," oh you have got to be kidding. Zabol? Seriously?

Sitting forward again your eyes searched his nearly hoping he had lied to you. Your hand found his wrist again, "Do better than that Labeeb." That struck something deep in him, he wasn't aware you knew his name as well. "Follow your namesake and be sensible, intelligent. You know what I want. Give it to me or…Well you know what happens next, yes?" He nodded slowly, eyes locked where your grip on his wrist was tightening slowly, like a python squeezing the life out of its prey.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed before he finally managed to mutter out, "They are in a warehouse near the market. We moved them there that night when the call came through. We moved all the others we found in that man's house as well. We were supposed to kill him but you came before we could." Your grip kept tightening and he was beginning to panic now, "That is all I know. I swear it." Your head tilted questioningly as pain radiated into his voice, "Pl-Please, Speck, I-I don't know anything else." You paused, he was telling the truth. You could feel his pulse thudding beneath his skin. It certainly wasn't a lie. You released him and stood casting a quick glance down at his bowed head as his fingers rubbed at his wrist.

That had been easier than you expected, but then again the Admiral's name coming up had given you an edge in that interrogation. You'd gotten lucky. Pulling the door open you made sure it closed behind you before you glanced down the hall where Laswell was coming out of the observation room. "What the hell was that?" You pulled the earpiece out, wincing as her loud voice sent feedback through your ear.

As she neared you, you held it out to her, "You forced my hand so I played the part. We got the location didn't we. The family is in Zabol, and they'll be there with all the other families I’ve left there too." You dropped the earpiece into her outstretched palm and shoved your hands into your pockets. Your carefully made mask of nonchalance overtaking your features as you watched her.

She shook her head slowly at you and scoffed, "We weren't just after the family's location, Speck. We need the head of the organization, not his wife and kids." She was reprimanding you but she didn't know all the facts. How could she? Or did she know and she wanted you to explain yourself anyway?

"I got you both," she crossed her arms over her chest, not seeming to believe you even for a second. "The only direct competition for the Admiral right now is your mystery bomb maker." A blonde eyebrow cocked at you prompting you to continue your explanation. "If the Admiral doesn't have them, we don't have them, and my old contractor doesn't have them then who does that leave? Her husband." Blue eyes were watching you, judging and deciding and she didn't yet seem convinced.

You glanced down at the folder in her grasp and held out your hand for it, she handed it over. Pulling out the picture you pointed to the patch on his shoulder, "Labeeb was a General for one of the local resistance factions in Pakistan. Picture was taken four years ago,” you pointed down to the timestamp. “I worked with the organization but I never directly met him, never even heard a reference to him. So how did he know me?" She humored you with a shrug, "His boss, the mystery bomb maker. The same one who paid off my handler to get the details for my murder. He must've paid for his family's release too."

Her eyes continued to stare down at the picture you were showing her, “My cover before I came here was one of the Admiral’s enforcers, it was why I had to lay low for nearly four months. That idiot in there knew something, thought he had some bit of valuable information on me. He was going to exploit it, blackmail me. You don’t make deals with the Admiral or his men though. They kill you before you even know what’s happening. I did my job, you’re the one who told me to say yes. I was just following orders.” Your arms crossed over your chest and you handed her the file back, “You find the warehouse I guarantee you’ll find your bomb guy. If we don’t I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes. I want him just as bad as you.” The logic couldn't be denied, it was a solid thought and you shrugged, "We good?"

She continued to stare down at the picture, still deciding your fate even as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Your straight face was cracking with every second you stood here now. You'd played your part and kept it together as long as you could. Now your mind was racing with impure thoughts once more and the source was the man standing just beside Laswell.

God you could feel his cum trying to leak out every time you fuckin moved. Glancing towards him he was looking down at Laswell, not even watching you for once, but he was smirking. He knew you were tense, and damn did it make you feel dirty. Nearly like you were being used and it was sending pulses straight below your waist. This should not turn you on so much, why were you getting hard. Stop it!

"We're good," you took in a deep breath, suddenly filled with relief because the sooner you were done here the sooner he could make good on his promise. "I'll put together a target package. Expect to be called in soon boys." She glanced up at John and then towards you as she backed up and headed down the hall before she called back, "Get some sleep. You're both gonna need it." And then Laswell was gone, disappearing around a corner with her phone to her ear and a file in her hand. You wondered if that was normally how she was or if there was another side, a side more like the one who had been the judge for your competition.

John was still standing beside you, his eyes flicking to the soldier still standing by the wall before he walked a couple steps back. You took off after him, there was only one way to get out of here and that was to follow. Damn you wanted more than to just follow him though. Turning down an empty hall he glanced back to find you, his beard twitching with his barely contained amusement. This wasn't the way you had come in so where the hell was he taking you?

He stopped by a keypad, punching in a quick set of numbers before he pulled open the door. His head jerked in a motion to follow him so you did, watching him turn to make sure the door closed before he kept going further inside. This must have been the squad room if the couch, TV, and old ass PS2 was anything to go by. Another door, this one opened with a simple key he pulled from his pocket, and he raised his arm for you to duck below it inside. Definitely not the way you'd come in.

He shut the door behind him, shrouding everything in darkness for a moment as he turned the lock with an audible click. You tensed in the darkness, hand reaching for him and finding only air. When the light finally flipped on your eyes shut tight for a moment to adjust to the bright light. Before strong hands were at your hips and his mouth was assaulting your neck hungrily. As if he hadn't just had you not even an hour ago.

Who were you to judge though with your own cock already hard in your pants. "Is it dripping out of you or have you been a good boy? Waiting for me to clean you up?" Oh God his words went right to your cock and the pressure was building. Your hands sought to find purchase, managing to do so as you caught hold of his wrist and slid his hand to the small of your back. Guiding his fingers below the waistband of your pants, and dragging those rough digits through the crack of your ass you pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance. Your muscles relaxed for the first time with relief and he groaned against your neck at the feeling of his own spend starting to leak out of you.

Finally you had a chance to take a look at your surroundings. A reprieve while he steadied himself. An office? His office judging by the name placard sitting right in front of you. Oh shit that was hot. When did you become such a kinky motherfucker? One finger pressed inside of you before he pulled it out, letting you tense back up again as he held it up to the light. Almost like he was inspecting it. Until his eyes shot to yours and he pressed his finger against your bottom lip.

Your mouth opened readily, without even needing to think about it, your lips wrapping around his thick digits and tongue swirling over his fingers. Sucking hard at his callused flesh. He turned his face down to hum against your skin, as his fingers danced over the back of your tongue. And then slowly he pulled them out, returning his fingers to your hip. "So dirty, Love." He murmured, kissing the skin just behind your ear as his breath swirled over the shell of your ear, "Let me clean you up, yeah?"

Son of a bitch, he needed to do something with that mouth since it was always running. Do it now, please do it now. You nodded, "Hell yeah," his beard scratched against you as his mouth turned up in a smile. His fingers flying to the buttons of your pants and undoing them with ease. The warmth of his body left you for a moment as he stepped around you, pulling your arm as he guided you around the desk.

He nodded to the chair and ordered in that deep, gravelly voice that had your spine tingling, "Sit." You obeyed without question, he would take care of your physical needs, that you knew without question. He jerked the pants down your legs till they caught on your boots and you watched him sink to his knees, not even bothering to take your pants all the way off. You pulled at the hem of your shirt, your half hardened member laying against your stomach as sparks of pleasure brought it to life.

You watched him closely, the way his hands found your thighs and caressed as if they were worthy of his worship. His lips hovered just over the skin before pressing gentle kisses into it. You were biting your lip and you didn't even realize it until you tasted a tang of iron. The action of your tongue flicking out to soothe the fresh wound caught his attention, his brunette brows furrowing at the sight. He reached up to run his thumb over the red bead of blood. His head shaking with near sorrow at the sight as he whispered, "Be careful with yourself. I don't like to see you hurt." You nodded slowly, unable to form words at the gentleness he was showing right now. No one had ever treated you like he did, made you feel like you were the only man in the world who deserved attention.

The fingers of the same hand ran back down the length of your torso stopping over the pulsing flesh of your cock, the warmth of his hand reaching you even without touching. Finally the callused fingers ran over the length of it carefully and you slowly pressed up for more but the smile and shake of his head stopped you. Behave and he'll give you everything. Keep it together Speck, you were so close to getting what you wanted, just be patient. He was building the pressure of your climax slowly, he wanted this one drawn out, wanted you to be near begging for him. Wanted you to have to work for it. When did he not?

He picked up your calves ducking below them to rest your thighs on the broad expanse of his shoulders. Your legs locked around him by the pants bunched at your ankles. His hands wrapped around to the front of your hips. That burning gaze watched you expectantly from where he was knelt like he was waiting for something. His face turned to one side, pressing soft lips to the inside of your thigh. Lord, how many times had you had this wet dream? Him knelt between your legs again with those eyes. The knowledge that he would give you anything you asked him for so long as you asked nicely.

Fantasies had been dancing through your mind for eight months and not a single one could compare to this sight. You pulled the hem of your shirt up further, exposing the soft curls on your chest. Taking the fabric in your teeth you reached down to take one of his hands in yours, the other finding his hair. The second you let your body relax his eyes drifted down to take in the sight of his own cum dripping out of you. The man was captivated by the sight before he dove in with reckless abandon.

The fingers you'd twined together squeezed hard but you couldn't tell if it was him, you, or the both you who was doing it. The only thing you could think about was his tongue dipping inside of you. Lapping at your used and still slick hole like a man starved. Like he hadn't been buried inside of you once today already. His free hand was curled around the top of your thigh, stopping you from squirming away from his touch. It was almost too much. He was almost too much.

Your teeth were biting around the fabric so hard that had it been your own lip you surely would have drawn blood again. Your hand in his hair was holding on so tight it had to be painful but he didn't even seem to notice. Hell he looked like he liked it, moaning every time you pulled or twisted the locks in your fingers. He had one job, one thought, to make you see stars. And by God was he gonna do it at this rate.

Moans slipped out past the fabric, and his eyes shot up to your flushed face. Did he want you to be quiet? God how were you supposed to be quiet when he was doing this to you? Had he not been holding you down you would have been thrusting into the air in search of your release you were certain. His mouth pulled away, affording you a moment of reprieve as his fingers tightened their hold on both your hand and your thigh. He pressed another soft kiss into your thigh, and when he found your eyes his beard was slick with his own spit and release.

The sight had your eyes rolling back, head tilting back into the leather chair. Too pent up and horny to think for a few moments as you fought to catch your breath. It was funny, not even fifteen minutes ago you'd had a man so terrified of you that he wouldn't even look you in the eye. Now? You had a man so willing to please you he couldn't even wait to get back to a bed, he was tongue fucking you in his damn office. Good Lord almighty you didn't deserve this kind of attention from anyone, least of all from the sexiest man you'd ever met.

Fingers grabbed your jaw, his hand patting your face a couple times as he brought you back to reality. His blue eyes were full of worry as he looked up at you from where he was knelt between your thighs. When you finally focused on him though he seemed to settle down asking, "You good, Love? Still with me?" His hand was still cupping your cheek, not willing to leave your face until he was sure you weren't about to pass out on him.

The hem of your shirt fell from your mouth as your jaw unclenched and you gave him a tired nod, "Yeah. I'm great. Don't stop, please don't stop." His smile lifted his face, eyes crinkling at the corners with the effort as he dove in for his second helping. The hand at your face slid down your bare torso, nails leaving trails across your skin before he finally stopped at your leaking cock. His rough fingers wrapped around the base, sliding up the length and you could barely even focus on it with the way he was still eating you out.

Precome slicked your length and you watched the hand he'd been holding you down with disappear below the chair. The second he let out a moan against you, you knew he was working himself just out of sight. He paused his ministrations for only a moment to spit into his hands before he went back to work. Christ could it get any better than this? His tongue was fucking magical, lapping at your walls with no concern for how your hands were beginning to shake.

You were desperately grabbing at the arm rests of the chair, muscles tense and screaming with the effort but you couldn't find the will to care about the pain there. "Oh fuck John, don't stop. I'm close," the pressure was dying to be released now. Begging for relief and you were so very nearly gone. When his hand dropped from around your length and his shoulders pressed into the back of your thighs you couldn't stop the whining plea from escaping your parted lips, "No, no, please no."

But by no means was he gonna leave you like that. John must have been feeling merciful at the moment. He sat back on his heels, pulling you with him by the hips so just your back and head were resting on the seat of the chair. Your knees curling over his shoulders being the only thing keeping your hips from falling to the ground. He grabbed your length in his hand again just before his lips were wrapping around it, surrounding your sensitive member in the wet, sucking heat of his mouth. "Oh holy-" your loud curse was cut off as his fingers dipped into your mouth, quieting you for just a moment before the hand was gone again.

Hold something, that's what you needed to do. Hold onto something for dear life cause he was about to try to take you out at the fuckin knees. And try he did. The fingers he'd just wet with your mouth pressed against your spit slicked entrance and slid in with ease. Curling up and searching for your prostate in an attempt to make you gasp for air. One hand shot to his hair, his mouth still bobbing up and down your length as he overloaded your senses with the pleasure currently coursing through you. You weren't going to last much longer, that much you knew.

Your other hand shot above your head and found the back of the chair, wrapping your forearm around it as your fingers dug in. You could see his other hand still working his own length. God he was getting off just on the fact he was pleasuring you. Your back arched off the seat, the backs of your shoulders pressing down into the leather, as he took your entire length down his throat. Quiet pants rose into the air. You didn't have the breath to moan or groan or beg anymore, he was sucking the air out of your lungs through the tip of your dick.

His head bobbed up and as he took you in completely again you felt his fingers find what they were looking for. The rough pads of the skin rubbing over the sensitive nerves. Your eyes were either shut or you were going blind now cause you couldn't see a damn thing. It wasn't like it would have mattered though seeing as you were currently only able to stare up at the ceiling. Another bob of his head up and down your length, your skin was so slick with sweat now you were certain the chair was about to shoot out from under you.

The man hummed against your flesh, the vibrations coursed through your whole body and when his fingers plunged into you again in search of those delicate nerve endings everything went blank. You were floating on a cloud so light and airy you couldn't even feel him swallowing around your cock to take in your release. And you especially didn't hear the moan he let out when his own hit him and he unloaded across the floor. You might as well have been dead to the world as you floated so high in the clouds nothing could touch you there.

The white cloud you were on turned dark, reality ceased to exist. It wasn't until pain lanced through your shoulder and you felt your entire body being jostled by strong hands that everything began to come back to you. Muffled words found your ears as you fought back to the surface you'd been drowning under not even a moment before. Blearily your eyes opened, the bright bulbs above causing you to shut them tight for a few moments before a hand was on your face. The rough texture catching against the coarse hair of your growing stubble.

Slowly your eyes opened again, ocean blue eyes catching your attention so wholly you couldn't look anywhere else. Relief flooded his expression as he pulled your forehead down, his lips pressing against it as he let out a deep breath against your sweat slicked skin. You felt his soothing rocking motions then, back and forth. Were you not in the chair anymore?

Finally you managed to focus on something else as he pulled back, tilting his head down to look up at you. "Hey, Love. Can you answer me? Need to make sure you're ok, yeah?" His thumb was dragging over your cheekbone with slow purposeful strokes. It was the only thing truly grounding you to the present as you leaned into it, your eyes drifting shut for a moment before you remembered he’d asked you a question.

A smile spread on your face then as you managed a quick, "'M good." He smiled back then, pulling your face down into the crook of his neck as he hugged you to his chest. The rocking ceased slowly and you felt him shift under you. The realization that you were in his lap hit very suddenly when you felt the fabric of his clothes shift against your sensitive member. A groan escaped you and he froze, his fingers splaying across the back of your head and running soothingly through your hair.

His long beard drug against your stubbled cheek as his mouth tilted closer to your ear and he asked, "Still good?" A low hum of affirmation and he was moving again, leaning back against the desk as he held you close. You were straddling his lap, his legs canted up behind you and raised just enough so that he wasn't trapping you by the pants still shoved down around your ankles. "Had me worried there for a moment," his deep voice rumbled out, vibrating through your chest. "Didn't think you were gonna pass out on me, guess I’ll have to be a bit more careful next time, huh?."

You'd passed out? You didn't even remember that. The man beneath you had fucked you so good he'd literally flipped the switch off in your brain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled out against his neck and he merely shook his head, pulling you tighter against him like he was assuring himself you were still there. Still talking and breathing in his arms even as you murmured, "That's never happened before." God you were so tired and worn out now, it’d been another long day and he was truly exhausting you.

You needed to sleep and where better to sleep than against this perfectly warm and squeezing body. The man even smelt good, you needed to bottle this smell and start wearing it as cologne yourself. He pulled your face out of the crook he'd buried it in, both hands at the sides of your neck as he smirked up at you, "That good huh?" You huffed and shook your head, diving back into the warmth he was willing to provide. He chuckled lightly, the feeling vibrating through you as he pulled you back against his body.

Damn, you needed to get his cologne brand before you left. Smoke and rich oaks pervaded your nose every time you got close to him. Embroidering itself in your mind as the place where you were safest, warmest, and happiest. The two of you sat like that for a long time, one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other at the small of your back. You nuzzled into him and suffocated yourself with his smell and his warmth. It wasn't until he woke you again that you grumbled a low, "Don't move. I'm comfortable," against the pulse throbbing in his throat.

His quiet chuckle woke you up completely then as he kept moving, "I'm sure you are since you’re using me as your pillow, Love, but my back is hurting. I’ve got to get up. Besides, you need a shower and I've got to clean my floor now." Oh…he was sending you off again. You frowned into his neck but before he could pull your face away from his still sweat slicked neck that mask of nonchalance took over your features again.

Lips found yours in a gentle kiss before he pulled away, nudging your cheek with his nose as he tried to find your gaze. You glanced down though, looking at your still naked lower half as you tried to figure out how you were gonna extricate yourself from him in the smoothest way possible. Slowly you stood up, bracing yourself on his shoulders before you shuffled back. His feet lifted so they didn't get tangled in the pants still around your ankles and you bent to pull them back up into place and button them as quickly as you could.

John watched you, his own pants had been pulled up but the buttons hadn't been done back up yet. His fingers wrapped around your wrist as he stopped your hasty progress, "I'll see you later, yeah? We'll have an op to run soon, you won't be strapping this time. Full green light with us." You seemed to perk up at that, your brows lifting in surprise. No more strapping? A full kit and a full team. You hadn’t had that in a long time.

This was unexpected to say the least. Was this what sleeping your way to the top was like? Bypassing all those barriers that would have been up otherwise to get to the finish line as soon as possible. Was this favoritism? Were you the boss's secretary now? Holy shit you were the bimbo.

Kinda nice to be the bimbo though you had to admit. Satisfying and easy. Get the best fuck of your life and then get to go do the job you loved. Not a bad idea being the bimbo. "Yeah John, I'll see you later." You finished the last closure on the pants before you turned back to ask him with a tilted head, "Just to clarify,” his head tilted in question, prompting you to continue. “Do you prefer to be called Captain, Price, or sir when on mission?" His smile reached his eyes at that comment as he pulled you towards him, getting himself a handful of ass before assaulting your mouth with his own hungrily.

When he pulled away his mouth buried into the space between your shoulder and your neck. His beard scratched at your sensitive skin, leaving that telltale beard burn he always did when he touched you with it. That deep, gravelly voice answered in a quiet threat, "Call me those last two again and you won't be going at all. I'll break you over this desk right now." His breath tickled your skin and you couldn't help the twitch as you fought to pull away with an amused smile at him.

You pushed him back to keep him an arms length away. Looking into those blue hues as you nodded, "Aye aye Captain." His eyes shot down to your lips even as you pulled away, backing up towards the door. "Two rights and a left to get out?" He nodded and you slipped out of his office smoothing the front of your shirt. A shower, a quick walk for Cerberus, and then some sleep. If you could sleep at all.

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