#the real boss coffee mug

[delirious-donna]

Praise [Nanami Kento]

an: this is an old fic of mine which got slapped with a flag the first time around. I’ve reworked it and I like it far better now and I hope you will too.

premise: Kento finds it so adorable when you look at him with those big, shiny doe eyes. Has he noticed that you do it more when he sings your praises? Oh yes, and he plans to make you purr for him.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: praise kink, office sex, possibility of being caught, boss/subordinate dynamic, sloppy blowjob, cum swallowing, Kento being a bit of a tease but with good intentions

Masterlist

It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore the way you squeezed past him in the break room. The lilt of faintly murmured apologies and downcast eyes that refused to meet his own.

Nanami watched you keenly whilst you poured your coffee and sprinkled in packet after packet of sweetener. Leaning against the far wall with his coffee mug dutifully hiding the smile that rose to his lips. Ever the sweet tooth.

His board of directors would shudder in their golf carts if they knew he mingled with his subordinates on a daily basis rather than locking himself within an ivory tower. It was an argument he was accustomed to, and one that he assured anyone that asked was worth the risk. Workers who knew the big boss outside of his office were more likely to be productive. He had reams of research tucked away, statistics on the positive impact on retention rates and the upward trends on quality assurance.

It was all a ruse, and a convincing one at that. Kento could recite KPIs at the drop of a hat until those scrutinising eyes turned vacant and disengaged. All for you. His every effort to satisfy the worry that stalked your every breath it seemed at times. For you see, you meant the world to Nanami Kento and he to you, but he was also your boss and that caused problems.

A secret relationship, one that might be frowned upon if he weren’t the CEO of the company, but it was at your continued insistence. You wanted to be taken seriously for your contribution to the company and he respected that decision. The board answered to him at the end of the day, he held a majority share in the organisation he had built from the ground up, but he understood your desire to find your own worth rather than be tied to his side.

You were a dedicated worker, a real asset to the executive team he managed personally and from the moment he met you, he knew he had to have you. Never before had he felt compelled to pursue something so risqué. Most would call him risk averse, what they didn’t know would likely make their jaws drop.

Whilst his gut instinct was immediate, the road to where you were now was not so quick. It had taken time and a boatload of patience. A sensual dance of flirtation and seduction which had severely tested his restraint, but after months of witty remarks and sexual tension thick enough to choke a horse, you were finally his.

Quite frankly he hadn’t known he had it in him. It was the first time he had spent as much time and energy on pursuing anyone, but the reward had been more than worth it. Only recently, he asked you to move in with him and the spacious penthouse no longer felt too large and lonesome. The bachelor life was not meant for him. It was an ill-fitting suit and he gladly welcomed the tailored fit of being your adoring partner and lover.

It was tainted by the fact that you shared the same bed, woke tangled in each other’s arms each morning but never arrived to work together. The same was true at the end of the day, though Kento tended to spend more hours in the office for obvious reasons. He understood your reservations, it was hard for a woman to be taken seriously at this level and although he operated with a policy of complete gender equality, there were still those old-school fuckers that looked down on women.

He’d assured you he wouldn’t hesitate to fire anyone who even uttered a derogatory word regarding your relationship but you begged him to keep it quiet for now. Unfortunately for him, he was wrapped tightly around your finger and so, despite his desire to the contrary, he bowed to your wishes.

Only thought of the day where he could stand proudly by your side without fear of repercussion in your eyes kept him going. Wheedling out the bad seeds covertly in the background to lay the groundwork for the years to come and how prosperous and happy you both could be if given the chance to flourish freely.

Nanami was a good man, at least he hoped he was.

However, his gaze was anything but at this moment. He felt the surge of predatory intent wash through him as he took in your grey skirt and the matching jacket that pinched your waist in the way he liked most. The knowledge of those delectable thigh highs that concealed your bare legs ran rampant, and he idly cursed that he wasn’t pressing you up against the counter and fucking you like he wanted to do. To hell with coffee and boring Monday meetings.

No, he had control and an idea.

“See you in ten,” he said on his way out the door, flashing a quick wink in your direction and watching your jaw drop in response.

~

The boardroom was noisy as everyone took their seats. Conversation flowed but you couldn’t pay attention, not when you knew that Kento was up to something. That faint crocodile smile he had offered not long ago lingered in your memory and you straightened deliberately in your chair, uncomfortable for the first time in many months.

He sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled whilst he studied the open planner set before him. Strands of blonde hair fell into his face, and the annoying part of you that wanted to sweep it back reared its head. As if he could sense your thoughts, he parted his hands and fixed his hair without glancing at you.

The sooner this meeting was over, the better. You had a project in need of your attention, and literally any excuse not to be caught feeling frisky in the office. A prospect that was growing exceedingly harder given the unknown meaning behind that sly little wink in the break room.

The proceedings started as normal, the boring bullshit of every corporate meeting and then it happened.

“Excellent work on the Fushiguro account. You exceeded expectations, well done.” Nanami announced out of the blue. His warm hazel eyes fixed you in place whilst your colleagues eagerly added to the sentiment, some genuine and some because they were simpering fools.

You found yourself staring at him—at your boss—with cheeks that felt hot enough to fry eggs and wide eyes blinking much too rapidly. Raw pride swelled in your chest along with a squirm in your lower half and a pleasant sensation twisting in your gut.

“Thank you, sir.”

Perhaps it could be put down to a one-off but not when the offers of praise started to come thick and fast. He made it seem so natural as if he were paying it no more attention than a good boss should do and he certainly shared the successes out amongst your colleagues, but this was something else—you knew it.

Could he sense that your thighs were pressed tightly together beneath the opulent table? Did he hear the hitch of your breath every time he mentioned your name? How about the heat spreading across the back of your neck or the bead of sweat that trickled down your spine? Could he smell your arousal?

Goddamn his fiendish ways. Kento always could read you like a book, and not just any book plucked from the shelf. You were a well-thumbed and beloved story that he would read fondly over and over, each time finding new things to add to the piles of reasons for loving you.

You were losing your mind. Furiously beating your pen against the still empty pad you’d brought with you for note taking. You crossed and uncrossed your legs for the hundredth time, desperately wanting to excuse yourself for the solitude of the bathroom. A splash of water to your face was long overdue.

So lost in the abundance of praise being heaped on you, you didn’t hear the call of dismissal. It wasn’t until the scrapping of chairs met your ears did you realise it was time to leave and you were ready to rocket your right out of the room as soon as the door opened.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Nanami asked you nonchalantly. Your knees almost buckled at the idea of being alone here with him.

Only once the last person left and the door thudded shut did you dare to look at him. Dared to bear witness to the blonde God that was leaning back in his chair—observing you.

“Is everything alright? You look… flushed.”

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you chewed over your words. “I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate the concern.”

“Hm. That you are, sweetheart. So very fine…” he enthused, reclining back in his executive chair to rake your standing figure with a lustful eye. Oh, he wasn’t playing fair in the slightest and somehow that made everything far worse.

Kento admired you from the top of your head right down to your shuffling toes and back again. The flash of his pink tongue wetting his lips did nothing but force a fierce shudder down the length of your spine. You knew where this was going, part terrified and part excited beyond belief. In the sanctity of your home, you would have already pounced.

“Ken—”

“I can smell your arousal, darling.”

Quick as a flash, he was leaning forward in his seat and wrapping both hands around your wrists to tug you towards him. You gasped aloud at his downright filthy accusation and the way he was manhandling you to stand in front of him. The edge of the desk hit against the backs of your thighs and Kento used your moment of imbalance to seat your butt against the edge of the glass top.

He rolled his chair closer, a thick muscled thigh pressed between your legs and forced the tight hold of your skirt to ride up to accommodate his presence there. Nanami groaned at the sight of your lace-detailed stocking tops, a calloused finger swiped across his mouth as if deciding what to do next.

“Have you noticed how… receptive you become when I praise you? Or how your beautiful skin blooms when I tell you how clever you are?”

Kento brushed his thumb across your cheek, stroking your jaw and tilting your chin. His free hand fingered the lacy tops of your thigh highs, straddling the line where the garment met your bare skin and you fought down the moan in your throat. You were melting into a puddle, no more than an ice cream cone on a blazing summer day and longing to be licked up by the man before you.

“Such a brilliant mind inside that pretty head, I’m truly a lucky man,” he rasped, and you snapped.

Grabbing him by the knot of the tie at his throat, you pulled him to meet you halfway in a searing kiss. Damn it all to hell, you no longer cared that you were in the workplace or that the door wasn’t even locked, you needed him with a dizzying urgency that refused to be denied a moment longer.

The aroma of rich, bitter coffee and musky cologne filled your nose, it birthed a breathy sigh of equal parts comfort and desire. You tried to slide onto his lap, to anchor your knees on either side of his hips but he held you fixed on the table with two strong palms.

“My precious sweetheart needs to show me how good she can be. Think you can take care of a pressing matter of mine?” Kento’s gaze dropped to the obvious lift to his expensive dress slacks, and you caught his meaning immediately.

The idea of being praised more was all the encouragement you needed to bend at the waist and palm him through the heavy material. You could feel the outline of his straining cock, both your mouth and pussy drooled in anticipation of revealing the beast hiding beneath those layers.

You made quick work of his belt, unfastening the buckle deftly before freeing his button and dragging the zipper down. Nanami assisted in lifting his hips enough to shuffle his trousers down whilst your eager fingers hooked inside the waistband of his briefs and finally his leaking cock sprang out.

The velvet skin appeared agitated and angry, the tip flushed a deep pulsing purple and pearlescent precum oozed freely from his slit. You touched the silky liquid without grazing his skin yet he still twitched from watching you alone.

“Mm… gonna show me what you’ve got, sweetheart? Show me who the real boss is here?” He drawled almost lazily, and your breath hitched at the insinuation that you were the one in charge. That thought made your cunt clench and your stomach flutter.

You wrapped around his shaft, working the beads of moisture down his skin to make the pump of your fist more slick and comfortable. Kento watched you through hooded eyes, delving his hands through your lustrous hair and pulling it free from the clip holding it back. You were such a sinful sight; all flushed cheeks and heaving chest that strained the silky fabric of your blouse to the limit.

“Gods, you drive me crazy. Do you know how much I have to restrain myself when you’re around?”

Big, round doe eyes blinked up from where you knelt between his parted thighs. The surface of your irises were glossy like polished mirrors and saliva escaped your pouty lips before you’d even gotten close to taking him into your mouth.

He knew your tight little pussy would be throbbing in need, that lust covered your folds and tracked down your thighs, sticking to your skin and waiting to be licked clean by his tongue. He could smell it, practically taste it and he would, once you were finished.

“Kento…”

He nodded his head, giving you the permission he knew you were seeking to do what you both wanted. That first sensation from the heat of your mouth sent him crashing, head tilted to stare at the ceiling and strained the thick tendons in his neck.

You moaned around his girth, slobbering already as your overexcitement spurred you on. The ache in your pert clit was maddening, the clench of your thighs not enough to relieve the ache in the pit of your abdomen. The friction wasn’t nearly enough, you were desperate for more. What made it worse was the heavy, bitter taste of Kento’s cock. It made you salivate, but not only in your mouth. The underwear beneath your skirt would have to be trashed as completely ruined at this point.

“Fuck, that’s it. Taking me down your throat so well, so proud of you sweetheart,” he groaned whilst noticing your restless wriggling and knowing exactly what you wanted—what you needed. “Play with yourself, my love.”

You jumped at the instruction, eager not to waste a moment of time in complying with the request and grateful that your man was so in tune with your needs and not just his own. A hand slid beneath your skirt and rubbed erratically through the sodden cotton of your ruined underwear. Never had you fallen apart so quickly, never had your heart thundered so much that it might explode.

“I love seeing you like this. Let me hear you purr for me, kitten.”

Swallowing around his thick girth, your cheeks hollowed to increase the suction of your mouth and Kento’s head snapped down to your face with parted lips. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat but you didn’t stop, barely hesitated as he slid further down until you gagged and spluttered when you pulled off for air. It was only for a moment. You were too resolute in bringing this powerful man to his knees.

With a flickering tongue that pressed thickly against his heavy shaft, you tasted him thoroughly and let spit bubble at the sides of your mouth to coat your chin. Kento was fighting against the rise of his hips as he twisted a hand into your hair and gently guided your head up and down in the perfect bobbing motion.

He was close. Hell, you were closer.

Your forearm rested on his strong thigh, hand wrapped around the remaining inches of his shaft that refused to fit into your mouth and throat whilst the other hand dipped into your sopping hole.

Your cunt clenched around your slim fingers, and you could sob. You longed for something else, something more and you knew just what you wanted, but perhaps you weren’t going to get it.

“Sw—sweetheart… i’m gonna - oh fuck - swallow it like a good girl, please?” His plea was breathless and the nearest you had ever heard to a whimper. It was beautiful and empowering to know that he could be brought to heel by you.

The low flutter of your lashes along with a subtle nod and watery eyes were his sign of your acceptance. Kento allowed the pressure that was building to a crescendo to release like a riptide. He spilled his seed down your throat and filled your mouth as he pulled his hips back.

He was in awe at the sight of you licking your lips like the cat who got the cream. His chest heaved with every twitch of his dick, emptying himself against your pursed lips and smearing the remnants for you to lap up greedily. Kento smiled, lazy and content now that the ache of his balls had drained away. He was quick to haul you up and onto his lap with your surprised squeal causing him to chuckle.

“I love you, my beautiful, smart and funny girl,” he cooed into your ear, his large palms coasted over your jittery thighs and hooked between your legs just where you needed him the most.

“Now then, time for your reward…”

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPTS: F2 "it's too cold! comeback" + F7 "you look really cute in that sweater", S11 "let me show you why you should stay in bed." ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ORAL (F. REC), FINGERING, SOFT DOM!HYUNJIN, SUB!READER, FEM!READER, PILLOW PRINCESS!READER, CLOTHED SEX, GROPING, UNPROTECTED SEX, SPIT, CREAMPIE, MARKING, IMPLIED SECOND ROUND, PET NAMES ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The fall weather was so random. Most of the time it rained, but some days you still got that last bit of warm weather with the sun shining. Today it decided to rain, heavily.

     You’d have to be crazy to go out in this weather with how hard it was hitting the windows of Y/n and Hyunjins’ apartment. The dancer had a few days off finally and for it to rain on his first day off, cuddling in bed with his lover seemed straight out of a romantic movie. He had Y/n wrapped up in his arms, he was refusing to wake up, especially as her fingers played with his dark locks.

     “You know I need to get up and get ready for work Hyune,” Y/n whispered into his hair making him groan.

     “No,” he grumbled, hugging them tighter. “Call out.”

     Y/n took a glance over at the window. She could hear how heavy the rain was. But with their curtains closed she couldn’t see just how hard it was coming down. Somehow, she managed to slip out of her boyfriend’s arms and made it over to the window to look outside.

     “It’s too cold!” Hyunjin whined from the bed, “Come back, princess.”

     “Let me call out of work real quick.” There was no way she was driving in the rain with how heavy it was coming. Y/n closed the curtains and grabbed her phone and one of his oversized sweaters from the closet as he dove back under the covers. Y/n giggled at him as she walked out of their bedroom and dialed her boss. She waited for them to pick up as she started their coffee machine.

     Y/n let her boss know she wouldn’t be coming in due to the heavy rain, to which they understood. Y/n hung up the phone, turned on the heating unit in their apartment, and then grabbed a couple of mugs from their cabinet. Made both of them a cup before heading back up to their room, setting the two mugs on the side table before peeling the covers away from her sleepy boyfriend.

     “Call out?” Hyunjin asked as she climbed on top of him as he lay on his back

     “Yeah. I’m not the only one who did either,” Y/n told him.

     Hyunjin hummed as he held onto her hips, “You look really cute in that sweater, by the way.

     “Thank you. I got it from my wonderful boyfriend's closet,” Y/n smiled as Hyunjin sat up wrapping his long arms around her as Y/n wrapped hers around his shoulders.

     “Always look so cute when you wear my things,” Hyunjin muttered as he placed kisses under her jaw then moved up to her cheek, landing at her lips.

     Y/n smiled as she happily kissed her boyfriend back. Hyunjin laid back on the mattress, pulling her down with him. Y/n squeaked in surprise before he rolled on top of her. Moved his lips down to her neck. 

     “Stay in bed like this all day,” Hyunjin said between his kisses. 

     “Can’t stay in bed all day Jin,” Y/n giggled as his dark locks tickled her skin. 

     “Why?” he asked, hands moving to her hips, “we’re both off. Nothing else to do.”

     “There’s still things I need to get done around the house,” Y/n told him as he peered up at her. 

     “Do them another time,” Hyunjin said

     “Hyune.”

     “Darling, it’s the perfect morning,” he placed another kiss on her neck as his hands moved under his sweater and his t-shirt that she had slept in as well. “cuddled in bed, the rain, just let me show you why you should stay in bed.”

     “Show me Jinnie,” Y/n smiled at him. 

     Hyunjin smiled as he brought his lips back to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Pushing her clothing up as his tongue explored her mouth. Knowing it like the back of his hand by now. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands dipped under the waistband of her panties. Slightly glad she opted to forgo pants last night. Hyunjin was glad too it seemed as he chose to comment on it. 

     “Pretty baby not wearing any pants. Wanted Jinnie to take care of you princess?” lips just ghosting hers as he spoke

     “Please Hyune,” Y/n whined as she rolled her hips against him. 

    “No need to beg princess. You know Hyune’ll take care of you.”

     Hyunjin moved down her body while simultaneously pulling her panties away from her. Y/n smiled as he tossed the fabric off the side of the bed and then pulled her legs over his shoulders. 

     “Pretty thing,” Hyunjin placed a kiss on the inside of her thighs and then her clit. 

     Y/n moaned as he wrapped his plump lips around her clit, gently sucking on the little bud. His hands held the top of her things while hers tangled in his. Hyunjin switched between sucking on her clit and locking between her folds. Occasionally he’d glance up at her just before his tongue slipped inside her. 

     Y/n ground against him, clit hitting the tip of his nose. Hyunjin gets her hips down before moving his lips back to her clit. Y/n melted into the sheets, moaning his name. The moans went straight to his cock and had him grinding against the mattress to relieve himself. Just a bit. 

     He moved one hand down and slowly slid a finger inside of her. Y/n gripped his hair harder as his long slender finger curled up into her. Coaxing her orgasm closer. The other hand moved up under the sweater and t-shirt to grope her breasts. 

      “Shit Hyune.” Y/n moaned 

      “Gonna add another one darling,” Hyunjin muttered against her and followed through on his words; slipping a second finger into her. Scissoring her open as his lips worked on bringing her to orgasm. His hand under her stolen clothing played with her breasts in his hand like it was his stress ball. 

      Between all his groping and eating her out whilst stretching her open on his fingers, it was pulling her closer and closer until her hips shook uncontrollably as she came on his fingers. 

     Hyunjin moved down and drank up her essence as his fingers kept working on her. Pulling them out of her after he finished cleaning her up with his tongue and was positive she was ready for him. 

     He lifted his body and let her legs fall off his shoulders. Tossing his t-shirt off his own body along with his sweats and boxers. Y/n smiled at his cock standing straight up for her, pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

     Hyunjin's hands pushed the material of her sweater up above her breasts. Hands slowly trailing back down her carves till he reached her hips. One hand stayed while the other wrapped around his cock. The same hand that hand worked her open. spreading a mix of her arousal and his pre cum along his shaft while she spread her legs for him. 

     “Always so good to me,” Hyunjin chuckled as he lined his tip up at her entrance asks slowly pushed into her. Hands holding onto her hips once the tip was inside. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n moaned. No matter how many times she took his cock, it was always just as good as the first time. 

     “Always take my cock so well princess,” Hyunjin groaned as he bottomed out inside her. 

     Hyunjin grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers together, kissing her knuckles as she adjusted to him before pressing their hands into the pillow under her head. Slowly, he pulled out and thrust back inside of her. Hyunjin wasn’t big girth-wise, but he made up for it in length for sure. Never had they gone for a round where he didn’t hit the spot that made her see stars. 

     Y/n arched towards him as he picked a steady pace and stuck with it. Hips met hers while she wrapped her legs around his hips. The only sounds in the room were the contact of their skin, grunts, and moans, and the heavy rain hitting the windows. 

     “My beautiful muse,” Hyunjin grunted as he leaned forward down, connecting their lips again. Swallowing each other's moans. 

     Tongues dancing together again on a perfect morning in Hyunjin's opinion. He gets his beautiful girlfriend in his clothes all to himself. The low lighting in their bedroom as the rain struck the window. Perfect as her walls clenched around him. 

     “Hyune,” Y/n moaned as she pulled her lips away from his. 

     “I’ve got you, princess,” Hyunjin replied as he moved his lips down to her neck. Hands leaving hers and traveling down her body to her hips. 

     “More,” Y/n moaned as she grabbed onto the pillow case under her

     Hyunjin hummed in response, mouth occupied with marking her neck as his. He pulled away from her momentarily. Looking down at where they were connected and letting spit fall from his plush lips onto her clit. Thumb swirling the wetness around in circles as he leaned back down, attaching his lips to her breasts this time. 

     Y/n tightened her legs around his waist as her walls contracted around him. His name came out like a mantra from her lips. Boosting his ego just a bit that it made him chuckle against her skin as she finally came on his cock. 

     He looked up at her, loving the way she looked when she was on cloud nine. All while he chased his high. Dick twitched inside her tight walls till he painted her walls white. 

     Both stilling and riding out their highs before Hyunjin pulled out and leaned down to kiss her. 

     “We should stay in bed all day,” Y/n giggled against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

      “Told you so princess.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 6. the confession

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here

WC: 9K

A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.

Series Masterlist

Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.

He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.

Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.

After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.

When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.

He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.

The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.

"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.

"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.

"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.

"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.

"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."

"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."

"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.

He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.

The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.

He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.

A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.

When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.

"Where the hell were you last week?"

"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.

"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"

"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.

"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"

"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"

Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.

Something was wrong.

Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.

When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.

You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.

"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.

Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.

"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.

"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."

Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.

"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.

"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.

"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."

"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.

"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.

"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.

"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"

You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.

"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.

"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.

"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"

Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.

He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.

"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.

"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.

"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.

He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.

"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.

At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.

"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"

"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."

Joel shook his head, still not understanding.

"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."

"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."

Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.

"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.

"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.

"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.

Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.

"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."

You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.

"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.

He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.

"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."

You immediately recoiled and shook your head.

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."

Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"

"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.

"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."

You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.

"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."

You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.

"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.

"She can see you this afternoon."

"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.

"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."

You nodded and looked up at him.

"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.

"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.

You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.

"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.

His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.

"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.

He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?

He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.

"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.

"So?"

"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."

Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.

"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.

"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."

"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.

"I didn't mean her face."

Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.

"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.

"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.

"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.

Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"

He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.

"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"

"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.

"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."

Joel frowned.

"Too-"

"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."

Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.

"Anythin' else?"

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.

"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.

"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.

"Wasn't so bad," you said.

"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.

Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.

"Why is Patrick in jail?"

Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.

"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."

"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.

"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.

"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.

"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."

"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.

He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.

"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.

"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.

"Okay. When?"

"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.

"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.

"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."

"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.

"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"

"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.

"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.

"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.

"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"

"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.

"I can manage, but thank you."

You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.

"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.

"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.

Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.

Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.

"Who's there?"

"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.

"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.

You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.

"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.

"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."

"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."

"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."

You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.

Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.

"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."

"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."

You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.

You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.

When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.

The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.

You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.

"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.

"Mornin'. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.

"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.

"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.

The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.

"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."

You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.

"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.

"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."

"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."

He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.

"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"

"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.

He nodded and took a deep breath in.

"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."

"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.

"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."

You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.

"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.

"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.

"You can do this. I know you can."

You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.

As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.

You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.

You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.

You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.

You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.

"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.

"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.

"Did they offer to help you?"

"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."

"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.

"No, I didn't think he would like that."

"Why not?"

"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.

"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.

"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.

"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.

"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.

"When did it start?"

"Right after we got married, I think."

"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.

"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.

"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.

"I told my mom, yes."

"And what did she say?"

"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.

"And when would he hit you?"

"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."

"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"

"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.

"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.

"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."

You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.

"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."

She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.

"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."

"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."

You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.

"What else?"

"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.

"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.

"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.

The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.

You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.

As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.

A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?

Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.

Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.

"Uh, can you -"

"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."

With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.

"You were in the shower."

"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.

"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.

"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.

"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.

You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.

"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."

"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.

"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."

You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.

"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"

He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.

"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.

"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.

So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.

"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.

"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."

He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.

"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.

"I know," you replied, nodding your head.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.

"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.

"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.

"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"

"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."

"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.

You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.

"I can't leave."

You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.

"Then stay."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things

[nanaslutt]

you are a god fr, I love everything you write, i owe you my life. pitching two ideas because i believe in you:

nanami getting sucked off under his desk while in a conference call

bossy dom gojo getting carried away and apologetically pampering afterwards

HEELLLOOOWWW???? the nanami one has me sweating

therefore we’re gonna start w that one >:)

tysm for the ask beb ily<3

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), deepthroating, kinda exhibitionism (he’s on a call w/ his coworkers), voyeurism mentioned, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, established relationship, nanami is in love w reader, brat tamer!nanami, 1 spank & spanking mentioned

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The balding mans unpleasent voice seeps through nanami's laptop speakers, saying something about project needing to be completed in the near future.

These completely unnessicary meetings--to quote nanami himself--never failed to give him the worst migraines. He wasted away enough of his precious life at the office listening to the graveling voice of his headache of a boss during the week, why should he be forced to spend his day off in a conference call with coworkers who's faces he barely regognizes?

Nanami was stressed beyond belief, which is exactly why you; being the sweet and thoughtful partner you are; were currently supporting him.

With your mouth.

Around his cock.

Under his desk.

Luckily for the blonde-haired man, he was only required to have his camera on. Nanami had an amazing poker face, but there would be no covering up the loud slurps and squelches emitting from your mouth that was currently stuffed full of his girthy cock.

He knew he should probably be listening to what his coworkers were conversing about, but although his face failed to show it, his brain wasn't exactly working in the most pristine condition at the moment.

His lashes fluttered, eyes drooping slightly when you took him deeper into your throat, cock jumping against the roof of your mouth when you gagged and hummed around him.

Grip tightened around his coffee mug as he brought it up to his face, faux taking a sip so he could hide his mouth behind the mug to let out a groan.

"Feel good Kento?" you ask sweetly. You were always so concerned for him. Not wasting any time when offering to get on your knees for your man after he remembered only ten minutes before, that he even had a meeting scheduled today. He was planning to stay in bed with you and cuddle all morning, dreams being shattered in real-time when his digital watch reminder chimed.

Groaning into your chest and apologizing profusely, he started to roll out of bed and make himself presentable as quick as possible. That's when you caught his larger hand in your own, and proposed your offer. Surprised when he actually accepted your proposal. Kento wasn't really one for risk, but he was in dire need of your company on this day.

You took any opportunity you got to spend time with Kento, him working a 9-5 and all. You did see a message on his phone the other day from a "gojo satoru", saying something about talking to "yaga" about coming back to work at a school? You didnt know if that meant you would see him more frequently or not. Maybe you would finally have time to go on that trip to Malaysia you always talked about together, but that was a discussion for another time.

Voices of his coworkers muffling more and more, their words sounding foreign to him as he focused on the warmth your mouth provided, already feeling his headache start to dissipate.

Your moans vibrating around his cock made him feel dizzy, but he looked totally put together. You were slightly irritated that he looked so unaffected. Wanting to see his facade crack, craving his deep moans to resound in your ears while fucked your throat with reckless abandon in front of his pervy coworkers, giving them a show. Imagining their surprised reactions to seeing the usually stoic and put-together Nanami Kento, crumble under your hands was making you aroused.

You understood how important this meeting was, and for the both of you to not get caught, but from the message you saw it sounded like he was in the middle of changing his profession anyways, so did it really matter?

All reason being thrown out the window as your hand comes down to knead and massage his balls between your fingers, using your saliva that had dripped from the base of his cock to ease the slide against his sensitive sack.

You saw his abs clench under his shirt, the only change in demeanor being the deep breath he took, grunting softly when he let it out.

He looked down at you for a beat, if you weren't so focused on his chiseled face, searching for the reactions you craved, you would've missed the warning look he gave you. One that said, watch yourself.

Smirk tugging at your lips, occupied with his girth, you pulled back almost completely off him, continuing to massage his balls with one hand, the other coming up to stroke the part of his cock that wasn't in your mouth anymore.

You pointed the tip of your tongue, teasing it into the slit of his cock, he made the mistake of actually taking a sip of his coffee at the same time, covering his mouth with his arm and choking on the liquid when he felt you flick your tongue into the entrance of his urethra.

Alarms going off in his head when his boss called attention to his little coughing fit, "Nanami? Are you alright?" he knew that everyone in the meeting now had their attention on him, you knew that too.

And still you didn't stop

He spoke your name darkly, a verbal warning now, before raising his head from the crook of his arm to switch himself off mute. Coughing a bit; not at the coffee anymore; when you kept your ministrations going strong. "Y-yes, sorry, wrong pipe," he struggled out.

Satisfaction filling your chest, finally seeing more of a reaction from him like you wanted. Going back to throating his cock in one swift motion, hand that was stroking him coming to rest on top of his veiny one that was sitting against his thigh, bouncing with his knee.

Squeezing your hand around his, he returned the action, fingers curling into yours when he felt your palm come into contact with his skin. Moved his curser back to mute himself once more as he felt himself inching closer and closer to his orgasm caused by your expert technique.

Nanami's thick fingers stalled against the mousepad when his boss spoke up again, "Good to hear you're alright then! Since you have your mic on, and we haven't heard from you yet, how about you tell us your input regarding the project and your thoughts on what has been said so far?"

fuuuuuuuuck you've got to be kidding

If he had a button that he could press right now that would kill him, he would press it a heartbeat, zero hesitation.

Nanami never has been the universe's favorite.

It wasn't so much that he didn't know what had already been said or what the project was about, but moreso that he was quite literally on the precipice of his orgasm, and was about to be thrown off the edge.

Worst fucking timing ever.

Tapping his heavy fingers against the desk next to the speaker on his laptop to cover the slurping sounds that were now barely audible thanks to your softer sucking. Maybe you did have a conscious he thought briefly. well..just maybe, considering you didnt stop.

The feeling of your mouth being no less intense even with softer technique, arguably more arousing as it felt like you were teasing him, slowly building him up to his orgasm with kittle licks on his tip, hunching down to lap at his balls, sticking your tongue out flat and letting his heavy sack come into contact with the warm appendage.

He squeezed your hand tight as he started to talk, lots of uncharacteristic 'ums', stuttering, and well-timed coughs filling in his sentences as he tried to get out his input as quickly as possible so he could fucking cum already. Then he could deal with you.

He tried to stave off his orgasm by untensing the muscles in his pelvis. This technique was just enough for him to make it to the end of his speech, quickly muting himself and bringing the back of his hand to his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Jaw dropping behind his fingers as his deep voice groaned out unabashedly, clenching his jaw as rope after rope spurted out the slit of his cock, dirting your hair.

Unaware of how close he really was from his inability to warn you beforehand, you quickly brought your face into place, sucking his cock back into your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth on the length of him. Sucking and swallowing what was left of his warm cum as he dropped his hand back onto the desk in a fist, clenching it hard, making the veins on his wrist pop out while he rode out the aftershocks.

Face straightening out once more, chest still heaving through his mouth, cracked open slightly. Continuing to dart your tongue out around his dick. His hard cock twitched against your face when you leaned down to lick and against the rough material of his pants, cleaning the cum he spilled there, while his boss wrapped up the meeting.

He shut his laptop with such speed and force the second the chime signaling the end of the meeting commenced, making you worry about the state of the screen before his hand was in your hair.

He yanked on it hard, crouching slightly to meet your face halfway as he pulled you up by his harsh grip, "You're fucking done." he spat. Dragging you to his feet he threw you over his shoulder in one swift motion, leaving a loud smack against your ass, yelping when you felt the impact. He was making quick strides towards the bedroom, "So fucking lucky we didn't get caught." he growled, throwing you down on the bed, watching you bounce slightly against the mattress. "how many." he asked impatiently, eyes staring darkly into yours.

"w-what?" you questioned, watching him stand in front of you, hastily taking off his spotted tie as you tried to scoot away from him on the bed. Not letting you get far, he reached out, gripping the entirety of your neck in his big palm and growling his next statement against your mouth, "How many times do you deserve to get spanked?" you gulped hard.

yeahhh, you fucked up.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (18+)

warnings: 18+ MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, slight smut, a bit of a slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

summary: Terry starts a new job at a warehouse after losing his life savings. He becomes acquainted with all of the workers except for one… the boss’ daughter.

Part One

“You alright over there Terry?”

“Yeah I’m good.” Terry responded.

He lifted the large boxes with ease, tossing them onto the back of the truck as they traveled down the conveyor belt. With each toss he’d let out a grunt, onlookers assumed it was from struggle but it was nothing other than frustration.

Terry had just secured a job at a local warehouse where he would load each delivery truck with boxes filled with parts for cars, motorcycles, trucks, etc. It was his only option after losing all of his life savings to a crooked police department.

Of course his experience in the Marines and his education made him a quick hire for the position. After a few weeks of orientation, training, and learning his new work schedule, he had fallen right in with the other workers who had been on the job for decades.

She watched him like hawk on the surveillance cameras, her freshly manicured tips tapping the sides of her coffee mug. She didn’t orchestrate any of the interviews or handle any of the paperwork that came with hiring people because she didn’t care to. She was solely there to do one thing and one thing only, find her next partner.

Terry had met all of the staff members on the job during his orientation. Supervisors, team leads, those with special assignments and floor workers, the same as he. There was only one person he had yet to meet, the CEOs daughter, Khloé MacArthur, the head bitch in charge.

MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc. was established in 1989 by a man named John MacArthur. There were a decent number of locations down south but his daughter only visited the ones closest to home. However Khloé visited very rarely, usually to spy on the workers and search for her new piece of meat.

She watched closely, observing his every move. Her eyes roamed from his face, admiring his naturally arched eyebrows, down to his full pink lips, his strong neck, and lastly to his chest that flexed every time he lifted a new box. The gray company shirt he wore wasn’t tight but it was no secret that when he wasn’t at work, he was in the gym religiously.

Jobs that require hard labor always had the perfect associates to fulfill her needs. Usually tall, muscular, a few tattoos and oozing masculinity. There was nothing she enjoyed more than making a big dog her bitch.

This new piece of meat she had her eyes on was nothing like she had in the past. He was pretty, no fuck that, he was beautiful. Everything about him fit perfectly in her sexual fantasy. She could see it clear as day in her mind, his big hands gripping her throat and that tight ass clenching every time he filled her up.

“Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia, the warehouse clerk and her personal assistant, called out to her, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?” Khloé snapped her head in Olivia’s direction, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Y-your father’s on the line ma’am, h-he wants to know if you can make it in t-time for dinner tomorrow tonight?” Olivia notified.

“I’ll pick it up.” She rolled her eyes, walking over to the phone. “Knock next time or that’s a write up!”

“Yes ma’am, I’m sorry.” Olivia stammered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

She picked up the phone and smiled.

“Yes Daddy?” She answered in her usual sweet voice. The voice she used only for her father… and her prey.

“How’s my princess doing?”

“Fine, just doing my check-ins as usual.” She responded.

“That’s my girl, always making sure the business is running smoothly.” He said. “Have you found a date for the annual banquet?”

There it was, the real reason he was calling.

“No daddy, I don’t need a date for a family banquet.” She responded in a fake tone, trying hard to mask her irritation.

“Your sisters got her husband, your brothers got his finance, all of your cousins have partners. Do you want to be the only one there without someone for the third year in a row?” He asked, hoping to hit a nerve.

Every year the MacArthur family would get together and celebrate their accomplishments and achievements for the year. Some families had family reunions, hers had family banquets. They’d dress up in gorgeous gowns and tailored tuxedos just to feast in a ballroom reserved just for them, a few business partners and close friends.

However Khloé hated them because every year they reminded her of how lonely she truly was. The dates she had brought in the past didn’t make her feel seen or loved, they just enjoyed status. Witnessing her siblings and other relatives truly love and admire their significant others had her questioning her ability to be cherished and loved by someone other than family.

A husband wasn’t necessarily the end all be all for an ambitious and independent woman like her but she wouldn’t mind having someone to come home to every night. Someone she could truly be herself with.

“I’ll have to call you later Daddy, I’m busy right now.” Khloé said, trying to end the conversation.

“Okay princess, but I will see you at dinner tomorrow… alone I’m assuming?” He was pushing her buttons again.

“Goodbye Daddy.”

She slammed the phone down onto its receiver, making the cord bounce violently. She stared down at the brand new business phone, one she had begged her father to purchase. She wanted to upgrade the phones and computers in each warehouse. Just because the buildings were old didn’t mean the technology had to be.

After a few minutes of collecting her thoughts and attempting to bring her emotions back down to zero she went back to lurking from the small office window. She was beginning to come up with the perfect plan that would involve the perfect man.

“How long were you in?” Earl, a man in his late 50s, asked Terry.

“Four years.” Terry responded, continuing to toss the boxes like they weighed nothing. “You?”

“Man I went in in ‘85, saw all that shit they wanted us to do, told ‘em they could kiss my ass.” Earl stated unapologetically.

Terry couldn’t help but to laugh at the older gentleman. His thick southern accent made what he was saying ten times funnier than it actually was.

“I understand that.” Terry said.

“But you young bucks got the heart for that type of training,” Earl said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Me, I been a old nigga all my life.”

“Oh yeah?” Terry continued his laughter.

He genuinely enjoyed Earl's company, he was one of the first few people to introduce himself to Terry. It didn’t take long for him to warm up to the older guy, seeing as though his extroverted personality made him so many friends.

The long conveyor belt had stopped, letting them know that it was time for lunch. They tossed the final boxes onto the truck and slammed the back closed before walking away from their stations.

“How long you been here?” Terry asked, placing his hands on hips.

“20 years.” Earl responded.

“That’s a long time man.”

“Who you tellin’?” Earl joked. “I remember when this company first started. I didn’t think it would last long. A business like this ran by a black man in the south? I just knew them white boys would tear this place to shreds.”

“What you think stopped them from doing that?” Terry asked.

“The same thing that’ll make anybody do something they don’t necessarily agree with-,” Earl looked over at Terry with a surprised expression “-money.”

“Olivia!” Khloé called, approaching the large desk that sat right at the front of the building. The words “MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc” plastered on the wall in big red letters.

“Ma’am?” Olivia answered, tearing her eyes from the computer screen.

“Who is the new guy?” Khloé leaned onto the desk trying to keep her voice low so the employees passing by wouldn’t hear her.

Olivia turned to the file cabinet on her right, stuffed with folders designated for each employee in alphabetical order. She scanned her slim fingers covered across the tabs before landing on his name.

“Richmond.” She said proudly. “Terry Richmond is his name.”

Khloé took the folder from her hands, flipping through each page carefully. She immediately began heading back to the office to figure out how she was gonna go about getting him.

“Ms. MacArthur, I actually need that to finish his new hire forms.”

“I’ll handle it!” Khloé yelled from down the long hallway.

“Thanks?” Olivia said in a confused tone.

The break room was becoming empty as workers began to head back to their stations. Terry kneeled down to get the water that had gotten stuck in the vending machine, putting up a bit of a fight to retrieve the beverage.

She stepped into the break room slowly, not wanting him to hear the loud click of her expensive pumps. The muscles in his back flexed as he tugged on the water. Finally getting it from the bottom of the machine, he still hadn’t noticed her standing there. She planted her feet together, standing just a few feet away from him.

“Terry, right?” Khloé asked.

He turned his head to see her feet first, his eyes trailing up her body and landing on her face. She stood there, hands behind her back, a small smile on her red colored lips. The black suit dress she wore fit her petite frame perfectly and her thick black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail topped her business attire.

“Yeah and you are?” He said looking up at her with a raised brow.

“I’m Khloé,” She answered, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He stood, his movement seemingly in slow motion as he grew taller and taller, eventually towering over her. He took her hand and shook it suspiciously. He couldn’t think of one reason why a woman like her, dressed the way she was dressed, would be in a warehouse wandering around.

“Khloé MacArthur, I’m the owner's daughter.” She said, hoping to rid him of the obvious skepticism she saw in his expression.

“Oh, Ms. MacArthur.” He said in surprise, immediately changing his expression. “My apologies, you scared me for a moment there.”

“No need to apologize. I’m usually traveling, I’m hardly ever here so I understand.” She assured him, staring into his eyes.

She held onto his hand longer than she planned to, not noticing until his eyes darted down and back to her face.

“I’m sorry-“ She said, finally letting go of his hand. “-it’s just, your eyes are so beautiful.”

Terry looked down, blushing a bit.

“Thank you.” He said, returning his eyes to hers.

“You hear that a lot, I’m sure.”

“I do.”

“When did you start? I know I haven't been here in a while but I’d definitely remember seeing your face.” Khloé asked, shifting her weight onto her left leg.

“A few weeks ago actually.” He answered.

The eye contact was almost intimidating but Khloé wasn’t a woman who folded easily, even standing in the presence of this Earthly God.

“How you liking it so far?”

“It’s good. I’m still getting used to the scheduling, a lot of coffee in my diet lately but it’s pretty cool.”

“Not an early bird, huh?”

“No ma’am.” He turned to look back at the clock on the wall and she took this quick moment to get a close up of his chest, flexing as he turned. She bit down on her bottom lip before he could notice.

“I hate to be rude Ms. MacArthur-“

“Khloé” She interrupted.

His lip folded into a slight grin. “Khloe, I have to get back on the floor, my lunch is over. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled up at him as she watched him walk away, her eyes scanning the back of his body.

“That is an ass on that man.” She whispered to herself before heading back to her side of the warehouse.

4 hours later

“Another day, another couple hundred dollars, young blood.” Earl announced, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “You got plans for tonight, you know it’s “Free shot Friday’s” down at Frankie’s?”

“Nah I’m good man, I don’t drink much.” Terry said, placing both of his arms into the straps of his backpack.

“You know Terry’s a good guy-“ John, another man shouted from behind the two of them. “-he ain’t no drinker or smoker.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, that’s why he built like a gladiator and we walkin’ around with beer bellies.” Earl joked, receiving laughs from the other men in the locker room.

Terry chuckled, placing the last of his work items into his locker before leaving the locker room. The only thing left for him to do was clock out for the evening and head home.

“I see y’all boys on Monday, y’all be safe.” And with that Terry left the locker room, heading to his truck.

He reached into his pants pocket to grab his badge and swiped it across the small box designated for clock-ins/clock-outs.

He exited the building walking to his truck, relieved to be at the end of another workday. He searched his pockets for his keys unaware of the pair of eyes that had been on him the entire time he spent in the parking lot.

She watched the TV screen closely, each quadrant displaying different areas in the building and parking lot. It had been two years since she had been with anybody but this was the first time she had this type of craving for someone.

Sure she had flings here and there but this longing was so strong, she could practically feel him inside of her already. Like his energy was pulling on hers, begging her for connection.

Khloé could still smell his scent, the mixture of cologne and sweat as if he were standing right behind her. She could still see the thick veins in his arms, permanently in her memory. She couldn’t wait to find out if he had those same veins on his dick, licking her lips at the thought of feeling him along her tongue.

*Knock Knock*

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and grateful for it.

“Come in.”

“The night shift are all clocked in and at their stations, are you ready to go Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia asked, her large purse hanging off of her shoulder.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Khloé grabbed her purse, her keys and Terry’s employee work file and headed out of the office.

She paced back and forth in her living room, biting the insides of her cheeks. Her feet sank into the white plush rug as she read over the pages for the 10th time, trying to piece this man together.

She had been looking over Terry’s file for the past hour now. She studied every page, every background check, every piece of information they had on him but unfortunately it wasn’t much.

Walking over to her computer, she wiggled the mouse and slammed herself into her large desk chair that sat against her window. The heavily lit view of downtown shined lights through her windows along with the full moon up in the sky as she began her research.

“Terrance Richmond, former Marine, Born June 7, 1994.” She whispered to herself, typing each word as she spoke.

‘He’s 30, perfect.’ She thought.

She searched his name to see if she could find him on social media.

No Twitter.

No Facebook.

No Instagram.

“Who the fuck is this man?”

She continued searching, scrolling for what seemed like hours until she stumbled across an article for a small town called “Shelby Springs”. The article titled “Ex-Marine Exposes SSPD” caused her invisible antennas to perk up.

‘Former Marine, Terrance Richmond, helps stop corruption invading Shelby Springs. After officers unlawfully seized $36,000 from Richmond, the last of his savings intended for posting bail for his late cousin, Richmond took matters into his own hands. One man gets justice for himself, his cousin and others who were wrongfully convicted.’

“So he’s some sort of hero?” She licked her lips, smirking to herself. The fact that this one man had gone to war with a police department full of cops and won made her nipples hard.

She could feel the gears in her head begin to turn as she finished reading the article. Learning about his time in the Marines and him being trained in martial arts, he was the perfect candidate for her future escapades.

Images flashed in her mind. Images of her hands against his bare chest as she rode him, the view of him looking down on her while she went down on him, him sitting back and watching while she played with herself. Each scene sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed her legs tightly rubbing her thighs together to create a pleasureful friction.

Khloé didn’t want to fully pleasure herself just yet. She knew the build up would be so worth it, she could feel it. She needed to contain her desire for an orgasm. She wanted to be sure that he was the one to give it to her.

Shutting down her computer, she closed his file and placed it on the counter next to her purse. She went into her bathroom and started the shower turning the knob to the far right to make the water cold.

After about 15 minutes of washing up and bringing her arousal back down she prepared for bed. She got into her large queen sized bed, topped with a thick white comforter and smiled to herself…

so her mission begins.

to be continued…

[gojo-mochi]

Hiiii ❤️ May I (pretty) please get a short steamy "what are we?" reader with Nanami showing her exactly what they are? TvT

im so SORRY IT SO LONG JUST SKIP TO WHERE IT SAID "A short drive..."

˖◛⁺⑅♡ Female Reader

˖◛⁺⑅♡ Warnings: Bit of crying from reader, small emotional breakdown.

˖◛⁺⑅♡ Sexual Content: Creampie, Mating press, ,Praises, Nicknames: "Love, Princess,"

˖◛⁺⑅♡ Word Count: 3.6k (im sorry...)

The first time you and Nanami stumbled in bed together was on a night where you two were both working overtime. Both feeling frustrated at the shitty higher-ups who kept piling work on you with no expectation of a raise. You and Nanami weren’t that close before, just regular work colleagues for the most part, but with the power of hating on the same thing, that night you and Nanami grew closer than you could have ever imagined. 

 What started as a boring work night turned into a shit talking fest about your managers, which turned into you asking Nanami out for a drink and then ultimately into you drunkenly stumbling into Nanami’s apartment and on to his bed. His hands roaming on your body, your own hands grasping on to his hair as he tears your work clothes off of you. Your bodies entwining with each other in a heated, intoxicated mess, you two gave into your wild desires with no remorse that night.  

Well, at least the remorse didn’t really set in until the start of the early morning. Waking up alone in an unfamiliar room, with various love bites and marks scattered across your body. Your head throbbing trying to look for an answer to what happened, then the smell of coffee and cinnamon hits your nose.

Nanami walks in the room, looking just as disheveled as how you felt but still giving off a look of elegance as he walks forward towards you. Holding a mug of coffee and a plate of cinnamon pancakes in his hands. Greeting you with a warm smile and joining you on the edge of the bed, handing over the food that you gracefully devoured. 

As you were shoveling the fluffy morsel of food in your mouth, Nanami gently recapped what happened last night. Then, when he was done, he turned to you with a soft smile and brushed some hair stuck to your cheek. His fingertips were warm, and his smile was soothing to your soul. He leans in to kiss your forehead and murmurs softly that he wants to continue forward with this relationship with you. 

With pancakes still stuffed in your cheeks, you could only nod in agreement with him; you did want to continue whatever this was. Nanami smiles wide and cuddles close, resting his head on top of yours as his arms delicately wrap around you so as to not hinder your movement.  

“I’m glad you agree, Y/N…” 

You murmured back in agreement. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with Nanami? The only thing was that you didn’t really know what kind of relationship you were agreeing to. Did he mean a casual relationship, friends with benefits type? Or did he mean like a real exclusive relationship? Your head was too full of mush to ask at that moment. 

You didn’t get a chance to ask Nanami what he really meant by it, since work got more chaotic, your bosses got even shittier, and the overtime got longer. Which leaves no room for an exchanging of words when Nanami pulls you into his arms after every shift and you two both fall into bed together again and again. The sex was even more amazing when you can remember all of it, and Nanami was still sweet and caring afterwards as well. 

So you just kept falling deeper and deeper in the hole, falling more in love with Nanami every day, unsure of what to call your relationship.

It was another late night at the office; your eyes almost bloodshot from how long you've been staring at the computer screen. You don’t even check the time when you feel Nanami pull your chair back and gently hold a hand over your eyes. 

“It’s time to stop now, darling. I’ll take care of your workstation; just go and pack up; I’ll be with you soon.” You felt his lips kiss the top of your head as he pulled your chair out some more and shut down your computer. You gather up your items and your bag as you groan and stretch out your weary limbs. Trudging over to the elevator while you wait for Nanami to be done—this was almost like a routine you guys do every night now. Nanami always volunteers to clean up after you, like the gentleman he is, and then you guys go back to his apartment to relieve some stress. 

A short drive in Nanami’s car and up the elevator into his apartment, walking into the familiar area, you take off your shoes and coat as Nanami follows in behind you. Hands on your shoulder, his lips on the back of your head, ghosting down to the nape of your neck as his hands go to your chest. 

Unbuttoning your top as you stumble your way into the bedroom, turning around to meet Nanami’s lips with your own. Your shirt fully unbuttoned at this point as his skillful hands go to do the same to your bra. Slowly pushing you backwards until you reach the bed, he pushes you down gently so you sit down on the edge of the bed. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, leaving kisses at every moment. 

Nanami then kneels down, his hand going up from your waist to your shoulders as he discards your top and bra, throwing them to the side. Kissing down the middle of your chest, making you giggle a little as he gets to your belly button. He stops the kisses there as he goes down further to take off your shoes one by one, then back up to undo your pants, giving your thighs a soft squeeze in the process. 

Down to just your panties now, you take a glance to look at Nanami, finding his eyes to be full of desire and hunger. He parts your thigh apart, continuing his mission to mark every inch of your body with kisses. Taking a cheeky bite on the inside of your thigh as his hand massages the other one. His kisses get wetter and sloppier as he gets closer to your panties, until his nose is pressed right up against your clothed clit.

You shudder as you feel Nanami taking a deep inhale in through his nose, basking in your scent. His eyes half-lidded as he pulled himself impossibly closer to your core. There was a stark difference between the Nanami you’re seeing now and the one at work. The one at work being more stoic and calm, having an unshakable sort of demeanor about him. 

While Nanami right now… is acting like a dog in heat, shaking his face back and forth on your damp panties. Getting your scent all over his face without an ounce of shame in him, just pure carnal desire radiating from him. You make a move to grab a lockful of his hair, making him groan loudly. Eyes blinking up at you, just full of intensity. 

“Na-nanami…A-ah!” 

Nanami pulled your panties to the side with his teeth, exposing your wet cunt to the open air. Poking his nose right on your slit, wetting the bottom half of his face in your juices, Nanami pulls back with a soft grin on his face, hearing your cute little whimpers from his action. 

He gives a small kiss on your throbbing clit and goes back to rubbing his cheek between your legs. His deep voice murmurs out as he continues to get your scent all over him. 

“I keep telling you to call me Kento, darling, I really want to hear it coming from your lips....” He fiddles with the hem of your panties as he looks up at you, awaiting your answer. 

Your hand goes back to pet his head, feeling his fluffy hair gliding in between your fingers, stalling for time as your mind mull over how to answer that. Calling him Kento feels like it would be a huge step in your relationship. Even though you guys had sex multiple times before, calling him by his first name just felt so personal… 

Does him telling you to call him Kento mean that he wants this relationship to go to the next step? Is it already on that step? Or is this just a kink of his, and you mean nothing to him?

All these questions swirl in your mind, the silence in the room growing too long for Nanami’s liking, so he gets off the floor and envelops your hand with his. Catching your attention as he leans in closer to you, kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, my dear? It pains me to see you so worried.” 

Your heart twists at the sight of Nanami looking at you so worryingly; your voice catches in your throat, and you start to feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes. All the emotions you were pushing down came rushing back up all at once in this moment. Nanami instantly got up on the bed and went to hold you as soon as he saw the first tear fall down your cheek. 

Holding you against his chest as you try to voice out apologies in between your cries. He shushes you gently, having no need for your apologies; he only responds in a worried tone. 

“What made you cry, my darling? Was it something I did?” 

Hearing how sincere he was made you even more ashamed of your hot tears. You buried your head on his shoulder and mumbled out a quiet reply back.

“N-no, it wasn’t you. I just.. I don’t know.. I just don’t know what I am to you.” 

You felt Nanami's whole body freeze right under you, your heart dropped at the feeling and you were quick to spew out apologizes again for making the mood awkward. Nanami leans away and tenderly places his hands on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away a stray tear coming down. 

His face and voice were full of confusion as he asked you what you meant by that. You swallowed dryly, scared to say anything more that might ruin what you have with Nanami right now. But, you can’t just pretend like everything was fine after you cried in front of him, so you took a deep breath and asked the question.

“What are we?”

Time seemed to stop as soon as the question left your mouth; Nanami didn’t even blink, just staring at you motionless. Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach; you fucked up; you felt like you fucked up so bad. You need to do something to fix this; try to talk your way out of it or say you were joking or-

“Darling.” 

Nanami's voice broke the silence first. His hands were still holding your face so delicately like the slightest pressure might break you. He leaned forward until the gap between you two was only an inch. 

"Oh, darling, this was all my fault. I should have made it clearer what you truly mean to me.” 

He tilts his head and leans forward fully this time, until his lips press against your. Tongue slowly coming out to trace your bottom lips, wetting it nicely and gently prodding until he could slip it inside. His hands move to the back of your head and to the small of your back as he closes the distance between you and him even more. 

Taking your breath away with each swipe of his tongue on yours, pushing you down onto the bed, his body still attached to yours. Breaking away just for a moment so he could take his own clothes off, annoyed at the lack of skin to skin contact with you. Tearing at his own shirt and pants at a rapid pace, just because he couldn’t bear not touching you for even a second. 

Nanami cups your chin in his hand as he starts to pepper your face with kisses, murmuring sweet praises that leave you both embarrassed and joyful upon hearing them. 

“My dear, have you not noticed what you have been doing to me all this time?” 

Smooch Smooch Smooch

He places kisses on your brow, your nose, and your cheek. 

“You’re the reason I actually look forward to coming to work every day.”

Smooch Smooch Smooch

More kisses on your lips, down your neck, and then back up to the lobe of your ear.

“I am never letting you go, darling. My entire body and soul were captured by you, long before we shared our first night together.” He chuckles, his nose bumping along your hairline as he takes in a deep breath of your scent. 

“I am all yours; your mere presence is enough to shake me to the core. So, you ask what you mean to me?”

“Darling… You mean the entire world and mean to me. Sorry if that sounds cheesy or overexaggerated, but I truly mean that with all my heart. Life before meeting you and getting to know you was like a motionless and colorless film. Just living day to day, from one point to another, without any real goals.”

He sighs and leans back to look at you face to face, his eyes full of love and truth. 

“You brought color back to my life, it was like I was coming back to life for the first time.”

He sighs and leans back to look at you face to face, his eyes full of love and truth. 

“But if you can’t believe my words, then my actions will just have to make up for it…”

Suddenly, you sense one of his hands grazing your thigh, traveling all the way up until his thumb hooks in the middle of your underwear.

Sliding it to the side and lining up his cock with your dripping entrance. His bulbous tip is just barely pushing inside your walls. Nanami gives you a direct look nose to nose with each other in this intimate pose, while your mind is still processing all Nanami said.

"Do you trust me?" Nanami spoke softly to you, expressing all of his feelings directly in front of you. There was also a tinge of shakiness in his voice, a slight anxiety that you would tread on his heart after all of this. Even with your mind muddled, you knew a single fact for sure: you cherished and trusted Nanami with your entire being.

“I do… Kento” 

You put your arms around Nanami and draw him in for a kiss, while sinking his cock inside you. It wasn't your first time having sex with Nanami, but this time was different as his cock began to stretch out your walls. It appeared more full and filling, as if he was hitting deeper than in the past.

You moan into each other's mouths, the kissing becomes sloppier with each passing second, with each thrust that Nanami delivers. The tip of his cock hits the same spot every time with accuracy. Nanami knew the precise area to drive you mad, and his cock carved a niche there, marking his territory and claiming you as his own.

You gasp out of the kiss as Nanami angles his hips to go even deeper inside you, tilting your head back as your eyes start to roll back a bit too. Your face flush slightly from embarrassment from getting riled up so easily. Nanami didn’t relent even a bit after this though, mouthing and biting on the sensitive parts on your neck. 

His hot tongue ran up and down your skin, tasting your sweet sweat dripping down on it. 

"Oh my god, sweetheart." After a moment of stuttering hips, Nanami growls and bites down on your shoulder, using his tongue on the wound to soothe it. Now, as he slows down the speed, he makes sure that each thrust still reaches as deep as possible while giving you tender love bites on your neck and shoulders.

Feeling himself losing control, Nanami grips onto your thighs, his hands squeezing the sensitive flesh. 

“Darling… Darling, I can’t ho-hold back anymore.” Nanami pants out.. His voice sounded strained as he started to plead to you, “I need more of you, fuck… no, I need all of you.” 

Even in this situation, with his cock fully buried inside of you and Nanami on the verge of losing control, he pulled back just enough to gauge your reaction, to see whether you were still willing.

Your voice was nearly completely gone, lost in a haze of ecstasy. Yet, you were aware that you desired a lot more—, for Nanami should offer you everything he has. A gentle "Please." emerges on your lips.

That answer was enough for Nanami to push on, sliding his cock out of your cunt evoking a pitiful whine to emit from your throat. He coos at you sweetly, moving your hair away from your forehead to get a better look at your eyes. He leans over and adjusts the pillows beneath your head, fluffing them up before giving you a light kiss on the forehead. 

Your face shows a confused expression which made Nanami chuckle lowly, “Don’t worry, love. Just making sure you’re comfortable before I fuck you senseless.” Your mouth drops at his casual remark as he winks at you. Your dripping cunt now visible to him as he holds the back of your knees and pushes them up to your chest. He slaps his hard cock twice on your pussy, making you shudder with each slap. 

“Safe word is peach, alright? Can you say that back to me, so I know you're ready?” 

Your eyebrow furrows in confusion but you oblige, “Peach…” 

Nanami pushes his length back inside you as soon as you have finished speaking. Stretching you out again, inch by inch. As your warmth surrounds him, he lets out soft grunts and leans in till your foreheads meet, his cock completely buried in you. Hands on either side of your head as he slowly begins to sway his hips, his hair sliding down and tickling your cheeks faintly. 

Nanami quickly got into rhythm,  repeatedly slamming his hips until he quickly found the ideal angle. Nanami's cock pulses and throbs inside of you as you dig your claws into his shoulder, his length filling you up delectably each time. A hand briefly brushes across your cheek before letting go and slinking down. 

Down to your neck, his large hand stopping there for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around your neck, as if to measure it. The sensation causes your breath to hitch slightly, but Nanami's hand quickly leaves your neck and descends farther. Fingertips glide across your chest, brushing across your nipple and pinching it. The sudden sharp sensation made your back arch off the bed with a high pitch moan. Nanami’s cock gets even harder at this, twitching inside of you. Pinching and twisting your stiffened buds to get more cute reactions out of you. 

The majority of his body weight is now on top of you, so you feel every inch and strength as he continues to fuck you into the bed. Unable to move and powerless to Nanami's whims, your body completely submits to his force. 

“Ken-Kento, Kento, Kentoooo!” You could only babble out his names in the small times where you got your voice back, your vocabulary now just consists of his name and various moans and whimpers. 

His fingers finally begin to toy with your neglected clit, sliding across the sensitive bud. Pushing you closer to the edge, pure white hot bliss forms in your stomach, and your mind becomes blank. 

Your mouth hangs wide as you attempt to spit out a sentence or make noises that indicate you are getting close. But Nanami did not need any words to know; he could feel you tightening up, and he was also close to his limit.

“Come with me..please.. My princess.” His voice strained and heavy, as he quickened his finger on your clit and his hips gave out a few more thrust. You feel a flash of hotness pooling inside your stomach, as he releases all his load inside of you. Your body too worn out to do anything at this point but accept it all. 

Nanami takes a few breaths before finally pulling out, his cock leaking out a few more droplets. Nanami pulls your panties back to normal, wiping any leftover cum on his tip on the outside of your panties. Giving it a few taps to make sure that all his cum stays in there. 

You roll over to your side, eyes drooping down, body sore and ready to pass out. You let your eyes close as your ears perk up to listen to Nanami’s voice. 

“Get some rest, my love. My sweet princess..” He purrs out slowly, as you hear the creaking of the bed and walking. 

“I’ll come back with something to wipe you off, but I want you to keep those panties on, at least for the night. I’ll be sure to refill them tomorrow morning.” He chuckles to himself, you feel a hand caress your cheek and fluff up your hair. Nanami’s voice grows closer as you feel his lips on your forehead. 

“I love you, my princess. You are my whole world, something to be cherished and loved. Never deny my feelings for you, but if those thoughts ever darkened your mind again.” 

His voice goes down to a whisper as you drift off to sleep. 

“I will always be here to show just how much I love you, my dear.”

[robilover]

Robin and Topaz taking care of an overworked fem!reader Headcanons !

pairing(s): robin, topaz x fem!reader (separate)

cw: purely sfw, mentions of topaz’s real name, massaging, a little makeout session (topaz), non-sexual bubble bath (topaz), men and homophobes dni.

a/n: I accidentally deleted the ask, I’m so sorry😭 I’ll do both for you! do take some rest, you deserve them and you need them. I hope this is to your liking. <3

Robin

robin is a very busy woman; being a famous intergalactic songstress and all, she also gets tired from all the tours and her very obsessive fans.

she’s used to going home late, to see you home first before her. however, there will be times wherein she’s the first to come home, your presence absent.

robin would be surprised to see you come home late. she will get very concerned. she would ask you how work was for you today, and when you respond with a tired sigh, she doesn’t ask any more questions, so as to not overwhelm you further.

she will offer to let her take care of you, wanting to carry you back to your shared bedroom. it doesn’t matter about your size, she’s strong enough to lift you in her arms. she doesn’t want you to exert any more effort in anything, just wanting you to rest.

robin will cuddle you close to her heart. <3

she will lull you to sleep, humming and singing softly into your ear until you fall asleep in her arms. she even gently massages your head, your arms — the parts where you think you feel sore at.

as soon as you’re asleep, she will let out a sigh as her face forms another frown. she’d then reach out to her phone that was on the nightstand. it must’ve been a hard day for you, wasn’t it? don’t worry, robin will take care of everything. she will make sure that you will be back to your energetic self.

the morning after that, when you slowly woke up, you’re surprised that robin was still with you. she was only in an oversized shirt and pyjama pants, her hair up in a messy bun as she had a cup of coffee in her hand. the faint noise of the television can be heard in the bedroom as you thought that robin was watching a movie or something.

you stirred, letting out a soft groan as you felt robin’s arm tightening a bit around you. she looked down at you with a smile.

“you’re awake,” she whispered. “good morning, sweetheart. slept well?” she leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“mm, good morning, robin.. what time is it?” you greeted, nuzzling your face into her chest, resulting in a giggle from your girlfriend.

“it’s 8:30 in the morning, love.”

suddenly, you stopped moving. your sleepiness vanished in a split second.

“h-huh? I-I’m late for work!” you panicked as you tried to get up, only to be stopped by robin.

“no, you are resting today.” she said with a chuckle. “you are on a day off. I don’t want my girlfriend to tire herself again.” she added, placing her mug on the nightstand to maneuver you on top of her.

“you’re in for a weekend to get spoiled by yours truly. I had to call your boss that you’ll be staying home for a few days.” robin explained softly as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her hand gently making your head rest on her chest, her free hand gently caressing at the small of your back.

“what about you?” you asked, your cheek against her chest.

“don’t worry about me, honey. this weekend will be all about you.”

—

Topaz

just like robin, topaz is also a very busy woman; being one of the ten stonehearts, being the manager of the strategic investment department of the ipc, even being the leader of the special debts picket team. that’s a lot to shoulder.

as soon as she sees that stressed out look on your face as you were on your phone, she takes your phone and turns it off. numby would even place your phone to who knows where (just on a table) as topaz will pick you up in her arms, bridal style.

topaz will try to get that stressed expression off of your face as she tries to make some lighthearted jokes.

don’t stress yourself out! only she can be stressed, she’d chuckle. it will result in her getting a slap on the shoulder. she says that it’s to lighten up the mood. don’t be so grumpy~

she would carry you to the bedroom and tells you to stay there so she can prepare a bubble bath for the both of you. who were you to refuse? you love taking bubble baths with topaz! minus numby. it’s just for the both of you. sorry, numby. not tonight.

once in the bathtub, topaz will pull you close to her (naked) body and massage your head that it’d already make you sleepy. she’d also massage your shoulders, arms, hands, thighs — anywhere, really. as long as you ask her where to, she will do as you say.

topaz loves to press fleeting kisses along your neck as your body is pressed against hers. it makes her feel just as relaxed as you.

“there— ah, that’s the spot, topaz..” you sighed in content as topaz massaged your shoulders and back. she let out a soft chuckle.

“right here, baby?” she giggled while massaging you, even pressing a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade, making you smile.

“mhm,” you hummed with a chuckle, leaning your back against her front. after a while of massaging you, topaz wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder.

there was a comforting silence enveloping the both of you. topaz’s soft hums can be heard as she thought that it would at least soothe you. pressing another kiss onto your shoulder, she whispered.

“feeling relaxed yet?” she said against your skin.

“yes,” you replied. “it’s all because of you, jelena. thank you for this.” you added with a gentle smile, turning your head to press a kiss against her temple. topaz’s cheeks flushed at the kiss, feeling giddy; especially when you called her her real name.

“d’aww, it’s nothing, sweetheart! anything for my sweet girl.” she chuckled.

moments later, she pulled herself out of the bathtub to get a towel, then pulled you out of the bathtub as well. she wrapped the towel around herself and you with a giggle, gently leading you out of the bathroom and to your shared bedroom.

as soon as you were both dressed in your matching pyjamas, topaz picked you up in her arms and carried you to the bed, earning a giggle from you. she first sat down and placed you on her lap, her hands on your hips.

topaz pressed soft kisses against your lips before giving you a gentle yet passionate kiss. your arms around her neck as you both kissed.

both of you made out for a while until you pulled back to press your forehead against hers. with a breathless smile, you whispered against her lips.

“I love you, jelena.”

“I love you more, y/n.”

[avocado-writing]

Omg a drained reader who can’t take care of themselves and Logan with a gentle “did you eat today?” 😭

he can see how stressed you are. the bags under bloodshot eyes, bleary and delirious where you keep taking a break to rub them clear only to look back at your laptop. he doesn’t think you’ve moved in the past eight hours, at least further than the coffee pot on the counter - there are half a dozen abandoned mugs around you as you let each one get cold after drinking half before fetching a replacement.

how he wishes he could murder your boss. they ask too much of you in that damn job, and it drives him crazy on your behalf. but your patience is saint-like and your soul kinder than his so you just grin and bear it.

still doesn’t make it any easier though, seeing you like this. you drop your face into your hands to massage it, groaning long and loud.

“you need to stop for the night,” Logan says gently, but in a way he hope won’t be argued with. you give him an exhausted smile.

“I’ve got one more report to file, baby. then I promise I will.”

“you’re stretching yourself thin. did you eat today?”

stomach gives a loud grumble in response to that and you huff in embarrassment. Logan stands from the couch and heads to the kitchen.

“oh, Logan, you don’t have to—”

“lemme make you something to eat,” more of a statement, not a request. you sigh, knowing there’s no use putting up a fight, and go back to tapping on your keyboard.

he grabs the bread from the bread bin, smothers it with butter - the real stuff he makes you buy, none of that fake shit - then slices some generous wedges of cheddar. grilled cheese fills the apartment within moments and he can see the way you stop focussing on your work to watch him fry it, letting out a little “oh” of joy when you see how crispy it looks.

he slices into triangle halves, how you like it, and puts it on the table; he takes a moment to press his hand to your cheek too. you drop a kiss onto his palm.

“my hero,” you sigh, blowing on your snack for far too little time to actually cool it down and then absolutely demolishing it. “fuck. I love you.”

“you talkin’ to me or the sandwich?”

“both.”

[kitten4sannie]

𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇

pairing: husband! san x fem! reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: when san is forced to work overtime on your birthday, he wants to make up for it.

w.c: 4k

warnings: switch! san, pussydrunk san, switch! reader, praise, pet names, dirty talk, brief spit kink, begging, teasing, strength kink, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, crying, creampie, breeding kink, brief cockwarming

a/n: this is a birthday present for my lovely best friend nora @cheollipop ilysmmm <3

song recs: get you by daniel caesar, yeah i said it by rihanna, aphrodite by rini

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

When San’s boss set a fresh stack of files on the desk inside his already cramped cubicle, San found himself opening his mouth to protest, “Sir, it’s already half past 8…Do you think I could possibly work on this tomorrow? It’s my wife’s birthday today, and I wanted to–” 

“San, San, San,” his boss interrupted with an air of arrogance, setting his hands down on the salaryman’s tense shoulders. “We all have to make sacrifices in this company, you know? You’re not the only one. I’m sure your wife will understand when she sees the extra dollar signs in your paycheck at the end of the week.”

San sat still in his swivel chair, not letting the rage seep past his eyes, envisioning all the ways he could retaliate against the older man standing above him. His hand nudged his stapler. He glanced at his favorite coffee-stained mug that you gave him; it had various adorable cats painted on the porcelain. It’d probably feel immensely satisfying to smash it into the man’s head, but he would never give it up in such a way. Violence was never the answer, of course. Though he was extremely tempted to just rip his computer away from its cords and toss it at the man, he wouldn’t. He needed this job, and he needed to get this sudden influx of work done so that he could get home to you.  

Eventually, San blinked up at the man, replying like a robot that had just been rebooted, “On it, boss.” 

“That’s lovely to hear. That’s why you’re my favorite employee, Sannie boy,” the man chimed, smacking San’s shoulder in an overly aggressive manner. 

Once San gave his boss a tight-lipped smile and a double thumbs up that turned into middle fingers as soon as the man turned his back, he pulled his phone out to dial your number. “Baby?” he mumbled out in an extremely soft voice as soon as you picked up. 

“Hey, hun,” you replied excitedly, sliding your phone into the space between your shoulder and your neck so that you could put your cake into the fridge, sticking a candle into it. “Are you on your way home? I picked up a red velvet cake for us to share. It’s got this really fancy buttercream and these little gold flakes sprinkled all over it. I asked the guy and it’s real 24k gold! Isn’t that cool?” Noticing the overwhelming silence in the receiver, you closed the fridge and pressed your back to it. “San, are you okay?”

Opening one of the files and staring down at the endless strings of text informing him of sales percentages and various investments from clientele, San sighed, “I have to work overtime, baby. That old bastard isn’t letting me leave until I get all this shit done. I’m…” Frustrated at his lack of control over the situation, he raked his fingers through his gelled-up hair, not even caring that some of the raven strands began to stick out. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m really, really sorry…” 

“San, it’s okay. It’s okay, love,” you said with a warmth that would hopefully give him some reassurance, hearing him let out a small sigh into your ear. “It’ll still be my birthday when you get back, okay? So just take a deep breath, get the work done, and come home to me.”

San opened a new document up on his computer to get started, slowly drawing air into his lungs and letting it out, smoothing his hair out a bit. He smooshed his cheek against his phone, allowing you to tell he was pouting when he answered as gently as possible, “I love you so much, baby. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can to tell you in person.”

Feeling a smile tug at your lips, you idly rolled your wedding ring around on your finger, grateful to have such a sweet angel of a man as your life partner. “I love you too, darling. I’ll see you soon.” Pushing your lips together, you lowered your phone to your mouth to add, “Mwah.”

“Mwah,” San returned instantaneously, a similar smile forming on his face, much more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago. Once you exchanged goodbyes, he gave his knuckles a good crack and admired his silver wedding band for a few seconds before getting to work.

-

It was a little past 11 when San finally pushed past the front door and slid out of his work shoes, meeting your gaze from across your shared apartment, seeing you sitting at the kitchen table by yourself with the cake positioned in front of you and a small lighter laying on the table. “Baby,” he let out in a sigh of relief, dropping his suitcase onto the floor and walking in your direction to pull you up from the seat into one of his famous tight bearhugs, enveloping you in his warm, inviting scent. “Happy birthday. I love you.” 

“Mm, thank you, love. I love you too.” Just as you were about to ask him about work, he clutched the back of your head and pressed his lips against yours to give you a kiss, one that was gentle at first, but grew more firm in the next passing seconds. Despite missing the taste of his lips when he pulled away, you caressed his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over his sharp jaw, feeling the scruffiness of the facial hair that was growing in. “How was work? Shitty?”

“Shitty,” he echoed, just as he pressed his mouth to your own jaw, leaving kisses along it, as well as your cheeks, your nose, your neck, and basically anywhere he could feel your warm skin against him. “But I’m home now, so I couldn’t be happier.” San brought his mouth to your forehead to give it a long kiss, running his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to light the candle or should I, baby?” 

“You do it for me,” you said, squeezing his shoulders a bit, before sitting back down in the chair, watching as San sat in the one adjacent to you. 

When you handed him the lighter, San brought it to the candle sitting inside the personal sized cake and lit the wick, admiring the way the flame illuminated your pretty face. “You’re so beautiful…” he sighed out, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, continuing to admire you, feeling as though he might begin to melt like the candle below. “My beautiful baby.” 

“Stoppp,” you whined softly, heat rising to your cheeks, still barely able to handle the way San looked at you after all these years — with such intensity visible inside his brown eyes that you wholeheartedly believed him when he said that he wanted to give you the entire world. You were his muse, after all. His angel from above. His everything.

“Never.” San gave you a gentle smile as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss the top of your hand, singing a soft rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ in his silky smooth voice, bringing a shy smile to your own face. Once he was done, he pressed more kisses into your skin, running his thumb over your knuckles as you gazed back at him. “Make a wish, love.”

“Why make a wish when I have everything I want now?” you asked, watching as he played with the wedding ring on your finger, the candle below beginning to melt into the frosting. 

San let out a sigh, pressing his warm cheek to your open palm, looking at you like he did years ago when you had first met, unbearably love-struck, lips parted and twinkling eyes full of devotion for his beloved. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he purred, guiding your hand downwards to press a kiss onto the pad of your thumb and following your intense gaze to his mouth. “But, right now, in this moment, isn’t there something you desire?” 

A familiar feeling of warmth flooded your core, thoughts of San taking care of you in ways only he was capable of suddenly urged you to blow the candle out. You knew what you needed. Of course, San was a devoted husband in every sense of the word, but in the bedroom, he brought that to a staggering degree, always willing to please you in every way he could, loving when you used him for your own pleasure, just as much as he loved giving it to you without any restraints. 

“What did you wish for, love?” San inquired, sticking one finger into the cake to scoop up some frosting and holding it up to your mouth, a playful smile tugging at his lips. 

You accepted his finger inside and sucked the sweet cream off of it, emitting a small ‘mmm.’ “I want you on your knees, Sannie. I want you to please me.” 

“Anything for you, my love.” San lowered himself onto the ground before you and began to loosen his tie until he could take it off, feeling a pleasurable heaviness envelop his body now that he was on his knees for his one and only. There was no place he’d rather be. After taking in a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, San began to slide his hands up one of your legs, lifting it up to leave a trail of kisses up to your thigh, stopping now and then to admire your soft skin and the intense gaze you were giving him. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good, my love. I’ll give you everything I have…” he murmured in between kisses, slowly reaching up underneath your dress to hook his fingers into your panties. 

“You promise?” you teased in a soft voice, lowering your other foot down to press into his crotch, the pad of it rubbing along his work pants, feeling the solid outline of his cock pressing against it. 

“I promise, baby,” he replied, his lips forming his signature pout, unconsciously spreading his knees apart, about to pull your panties from your hips when you pushed your foot down a bit harder, earning a small gasp from him, his fingers resting against your waist instead of continuing his quest to strip you. 

Biting into your lower lip, you relieved the pressure you had on him, slowly standing up out of the chair and just barely lifting up the front of your dress to give him an upskirt view. “Use your teeth.” 

“Yes, angel. Whatever you want, I can do…” San swallowed down some of the saliva that persistently tried to overflow and drip down his chin, gingerly kneading his hands into your soft thighs, pressing his cheek to it, looking up at your clothed pussy, his cock already throbbing away inside his pants. He moved his head up underneath your dress and got the lip of your panties in between his teeth and slowly pulled it downwards, audibly groaning as he witnessed a string of arousal drip from your heat and down your inner thigh.

Watching him with bated breath, you resisted the urge to grab the back of his head and fuck his face, desperately wanting to hear him whine and beg for you to come inside his mouth. “You can lick it up, Sannie. Go ahead…”

Your husband’s eyes practically twinkled with gratitude, choosing to pull your panties down the rest of the way and off of you, releasing them from his teeth and holding them against his crotch, rubbing them against his cock as he dragged his tongue up your inner thigh, catching your arousal on his tongue. “Fuck, baby, you taste so good. Let me eat your pretty little pussy, angel. Please, I need it.” 

“I think you can handle waiting a little longer, don’t you think, Sannie?” you mused teasingly, reaching down to press your pointer finger up into his chin, chuckling at the soft gasp that escaped his glistening lips. He was always like putty in your hands. Always ready to worship at your feet if you simply said the words. While that left you breathless, what you really relished was when you pushed him so far that he simply couldn’t hold himself back anymore and gave you his all, even if that meant passing out from pure exhaustion afterwards. 

“Yes, my love, I can wait. I can wait for you.” Your husband rested his hands down on his upper thighs, his teeth instantly digging into his lip as you took a step closer, your dripping pussy directly in front of his face. 

Holding your dress up with one hand, you used the other to spread your pussy apart, your slick dripping down your inner thighs, making sure to push your fingers together and rub them in an up and down motion, making small wet sounds with your movements. “You want your wife’s pretty pussy in your mouth, don’t you, Sannie? You want to taste me on your tongue? Lap my cum up until you’re drowning in it? Is that what you want?”

San felt like he was going to lose his mind, gripping his work pants so tightly, he feared he might tear into them, unless his cock burst out of them first from how painfully hard he was. “Please, baby. I need you so fucking bad,” he choked out, tears stinging the corners of his coffee-colored eyes, resisting the urge to smash his face in between your legs when you grabbed him by the hair and angled his head back, whimpering softly at the grip you had on him. He wanted to be good for you. He had to be good, but he needed you on his tongue like he needed oxygen. 

Once San uttered one last desperate ‘please’ in such a soft, tiny voice, you finally gave in, holding your dress up slightly with both hands and spreading your legs a bit more for him, feeling your core tighten and pulse at the sight of your husband’s teary eyes. If you were an angel, then he was heaven itself, and he probably saw you the exact same way. “You’ve been a good boy, Sannie, so come and get it.” 

Like a puppy hearing the dinner bell, San was on you, pushing his head up underneath your dress, his mouth connected to your cunt, tongue lapping at your wet folds like it was his one and only mission, hands kneading into your thighs out of habit. “Thank you, my angel. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he moaned against your heat, slurping your arousal into his mouth and swallowing it down like you were an oasis and he was a weary traveler in search of a drink. He licked, and licked, and licked, not even thinking, before he reached behind you with his outstretched arms to pull the chair closer, guiding your hips downwards forcefully enough so that you had to sit down on the cushion below. 

“S-Sannie,” you gasped, surprised by his sudden display of strength, your brain going a bit fuzzy as he shoved your thighs apart, then held them up and out of his way so that he could bury his face deeper in between them. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

San took a second to give you a dimpled smile, nuzzling your slippery inner thigh with his cheek, pressing a small, lingering kiss to your warm skin. “So bad, baby. You drive me fucking crazy.” His tongue was hot and wet against your cunt, practically melting against your folds, taking long, deliberate swipes up to your clit, before zoning in on it and sucking on it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure through your lower half.

Unable to hold your voice back, you began emitting breathy, stunted moans, involuntarily bucking up into his mouth the more he licked and sucked at your clit, feeling your cheeks burn more and more the longer he gazed into your eyes. Though you swore you were used to the intense eye contact that San preferred to have with you, he still always managed to make you feel shy. 

San took another quick breather to comment breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So sweet for me. So perfect.” Taking in your pretty flushed face and glazed-over eyes, he squeezed your thighs in between his thick fingers. “Come here, baby.” He pushed your thighs farther apart and leaned upwards, taking your chin in his grasp and pulling you into a much-needed kiss. Once you let him into your mouth to explore it with his arousal-coated tongue, San lowered his hand from your chin the eagerly rub your pulsing clit around in quick, deliberate circles with his thumb, automatically bringing two digits from his other hand to your cunt, your greedy hole sucking them up to his knuckles, not hesitating to piston them in and out of you. Your muffled moans and whines were like an angelic hymn that made him want to build you a shrine and worship you day and night on his aching knees like he was doing now. Once your legs hooked around his small waist, he quickened the pace of his digits, your wetness now so palpable it was beginning to spill out of you and down his veiny forearm, emitting a knowing ‘mm-hmm’, breaking the kiss as soon as you began to tighten up around him. “Angel’s gonna come for Sannie, huh?”

“Uh-huh, gonna come, Sannie,” you breathed out, licking at your lips and tasting the remnants of yourself on your tongue, swearing you were about to come instantly at the visual of your husband quickly lowering himself back down to your cunt to slurp at it, licking near the outline of his thrusting fingers and back up to your puffy clit, eyeing it longingly, before pursing his lips and spitting your arousal back onto it, only to attach back on it like a magnet. 

As soon as he curled his fingers up and rubbed at your g-spot, hitting it in a way that had you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll all the way back into your skull, San spoke up, “That’s it right there, huh, baby? Right there?” As soon as you cried out for him, your throat hurting from how dry it was, San finger-fucked you into a state of pure ecstasy, not stopping until your arousal began to spray out of you and into his open mouth, coating his tongue. “Oh my god, look at you, baby. You’re squirting for me. You’re such a good girl.” He lowered his mouth onto your twitching cunt, not able to prevent a bit of drool from dripping past his swollen lips, lapping up the rest of your squirt with a few slow, lingering licks.

Once you had enough time to gather your bearings and catch your breath, San sat up and leaned in close to you, asking huskily, “Is there anything else my princess desires?”

“Your cock, Sannie. Give me your cock,” you answered instantly, not even caring about how desperate you sounded. You were desperate, and you knew San was too, given that he hadn’t touched himself a single time. 

Just as quickly as you had answered him, San was already lifting you up into his arms and laying you down onto the kitchen table, spreading your legs apart and fumbling with his leather belt to take it off. Once it hit the floor with a thud, San pulled his aching cock out and slapped it down onto your pussy, watching some slick leak out. "Are you ready? Is my princess going to take all of my cock in this pretty little pussy?"

You nodded as quickly as you could, ready to drool over the thought of finally being filled by him, knowing you’d probably come as soon as he did. 

San slowly moved his hips forward and back, sliding his thick length across your needy cunt, the slick sounds of your arousal making him groan. "Let me hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell Sannie how bad you want it." 

"I need it so bad, so, so bad.” Just as San’s cockhead began to stretch out your hole, your plush walls clenching around him, he pulled out, leaving you empty and ready to beg on your knees just like he had done earlier. “I need your cock, Sannie, please. I want to be full just for you. Please, please, let me have it. I’ll be such a good girl for you, I promise!”

"God, you’re so cute when you’re begging for me, princess," San sighed longingly, caressing and rubbing your thighs with his thumbs, burning the image of your teary-eyed gaze into his memory. “But, don’t worry, I’m here. I’m going to fill you up, okay?” Smiling at the sight of your furious nods, he pushed back inside of you, inch by inch, making you let out a long, almost relieved moan, not stopping until your lower halves were pressed together. 

Now that he was being squeezed by your tightness, San felt something switch on inside his brain, no longer concerned with teasing you, but instead overwhelmed by the desperate need to fuck you until you were a crying, cum-filled mess for him, and him alone. 

Loud, wet slapping sounds began to echo throughout the kitchen, along with the thud, thud, thud of the kitchen table being rocked back and forth into the tile flooring below. “You’re so good for me, baby, so good,” San praised into your ear, his warm body flush against yours, slamming his hips into yours, appreciating the way you had your legs hooked around his small waist, locking him in place. 

“Sannie,” you cried out, unable to stop pulsing around your husband’s thick length, feeling like you would go crazy from the way it was pounding into you. You reached your hands out, smiling when he immediately laced his fingers with yours, holding your hands down against the cool surface of the table. “I’m gonna come. It’s spilling out.” 

“I’m going to come too, my love. Let’s come together,” he encouraged, squeezing your fingers against his own, slowing his pace down and fucking you in a more deliberate way, his thrusts slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot every time. Just as you began to mewl and babble from the overwhelming pleasure, San pressed his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans just as you swallowed his choked ones. It felt so good, he didn’t even realize when he started to cry, his hot tears dripping down his cheeks and landing onto your heated face. “I’m going to fill you up and make you a mommy, sweetheart. Make you so full of my love. So, so full for me.” 

“Yes, please, Sannie, fill me up.” Just as your body shook and trembled, your cum pouring out of you and coating your joined flesh, San’s hot load came pouring into you, filling you up to the brim like always. 

“Here it comes, angel. Just for you. I love you so much,” he choked out, his voice raw and throaty from how hard he was cumming, blinking a few more tears away to focus on your pretty face, slowly going soft, but staying inside you, keeping you full of his warmth and love. 

“I love you too, Sannie. So much,” you replied wholeheartedly, wiping one of his tears away as you brought him into another kiss, this one as gentle and sweet as the love he always gave you. 

Slowly breaking the kiss, he pressed one onto your forehead, bringing you into a long hug, not planning on letting you go. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Love Sucks II. The Interrogation

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader He’s just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

You scolded Eddie and Dustin immediately. 

But Steve didn’t seem to mind, shrugging in that tired way that he did as he wandered off into the corner of the Wheeler’s kitchen with them. They’d set up an awful interpretation of what you deemed to be an interview room, the dining table pushed into the darker space where the light from the window didn’t reach, Nancy’s old desk lamp plugged in beside the microwave, the bulb shining harshly at the empty seat Steve was told to sit in. 

He blinked as he did, tired eyes aggravated by the brightness but he just squinted and slumped in the chair, looking over at you with that longing way he did. You held up a coffee cup at him in question, smiling. He nodded, pleased. 

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Eddie began as the rest of the party milled around aimlessly. 

Some were listening, others were bickering about what to watch on TV. Nancy was making popcorn and Robin was already asleep in the armchair beside Max. 

Steve nodded, knowing it was only a matter of time before he got the big brotherly talk from Eddie about you. He readied himself for the questions about his interest in you, his intentions, how he planned to keep you safe from— 

“Can you turn into a bat?” Dustin asked instead. 

Steve frowned, confused. 

“Dustin!” You scolded the younger boy from across the kitchen, teaspoon clattering into the mug, coffee grains spilling on Mrs Wheeler’s countertop. “What the hell?”

“What?” Dustin yelled back, arms held out in question. “It’s a serious question!”

Eddie was grinning, wide and a little manic, looking from Steve to you and back again. “Well?” He asked the boy. 

“This is so rude. You cannot be for real, Eddie.” You went ignored, eye roll and all. 

“Um, no?” Steve answered, squinting at the two through the light they were intent on keeping aimed at him.  

“You sound unsure,” Eddie countered, dubious. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the Wheeler’s house so he was chewing on the end of a bubblegum pink straw instead. He waved it at your boyfriend, suspicious. “Is that because you haven’t tried or aren’t allowed to say?”

Steve looked at you for help. “Why wouldn’t I be allowed to say?” He replied weakly, visibly concerned and confused. 

Dustin shrugged before leaning across the table, bright eyed and grinning toothily. “Vampire overlord, maybe?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. You were still making coffee, too far out of reach for him to hold your hand. Steve loved holding your hand, you were so much softer and warmer than him and sometimes you painted your fingernails a really pretty colour— someone cleared their throat. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve met him yet…”

Eddie and Dustin reacted immediately to this answer, heads bent and producing a notebook from seemingly nowhere, scribbling down notes in chicken scratch handwriting about their ‘findings.’ 

“… does he live around here?” Steve tried once more. “Is he my boss? Am I going to get in trouble?”

You soothed him with a hand over his hair, appearing at his back to place down his coffee in front of him, black and unsweetened in a mug as big as a soup bowl.. “Sorry, baby,” you offered, shaking your head at your two friends. 

Steve loved it when you called him baby. 

It went on like that for a while, Ghostbusters playing in the living room while Eddie and Dustin kept Steve at the table under the spotlight, drilling him about things you could only shake your head at. 

“Can you fly?”

“No.” 

More notes written, a worrying sentence jotting down about taking Steve somewhere high for experimentation. 

“Can you run fast?”

“Uh, I have asthma…”

“What about jumping? Can you jump onto the roof?”

“I haven’t like, you know,, tried. Heights are scary.”

Sighs, heavy and disappointed, came from the kitchen. Steve was pouting, arms crossed. 

“Can you read minds?”

“No.”

A brief pause, and then Dustin whispered to Eddie,  eyes narrowed and still on Steve: “he’s lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Can you turn invisible?” 

“No.”

“Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“What? No?”

Eddie paused, studying Steve. “Unconvinced,” he concluded. “Further investigation required.”

“How come you can come out in the daylight?”

“I don’t know, but that lamp is super bright, guys..”

Stumped, Dustin and Eddie finally relented. Ghostbusters was just finishing, the rest of the kids tired from too much sugar and arguing about who the best team member was. 

“So you’re just a really shitty vampire, huh?” Eddie asked, his nose scrunched and sounding unaffected.

“Kinda boring, actually,” Dustin agreed. 

They were both staring at Steve with a little disappointment, like two kids who’d finally found out Santa Claus wasn’t real. They sighed again and got up, raiding the Wheeler’s pantry for snacks while they left behind a sad and insecure vampire. 

You scowled at the boys as you passed, punching Eddie on the arm a little harder than what would be considered good natured. You nudged your way between Steve and the table, folding yourself onto his lap and into his arms. He wound himself around you immediately, grumbling softly into the crook of your neck about bats and powers and being a poor excuse for a cryptid. 

Later, over dinner, you stole Eddie’s last slice of pizza and scolded him for giving your boyfriend a vampire complex. 

[bby-bo]

When The Boss Comes Knocking

the following is a CEO!Sakusa fic that landed somewhere between sfw and sorta nsfw, but its kiyoomi and he just makes my brain go buzz in every situation so i just couldn’t help it 

Part 2

Summary: You dated Sakusa in high school but went your separate ways after graduation. Turns out he missed you much more than he let on. 

Warnings: none, just kiyoomi being hot. use of “sweetheart” and “baby”

Sakusa Kiyoomi always has been and will always be the man of your dreams. Tall and broad shouldered, even in his high school years he was the pinnacle of your existence, and all you wanted was to be near him. Your wishes were granted for only a brief period of time when you finally dated in your junior year, but your Kiyoomi was ripped away from you when his family decided he needed to start preparing to take over the business.

The Sakusa Group was well known and respected for their acquisition of many successful start-ups, but details of their business dealings were always very secretive. And the company had only grown and expanded since Kiyoomi became CEO at just a mere 25 years old- not that you were stalking the Sakusa Group’s movements in your free time or anything.

When the two of you broke up he had encouraged you to “follow your own dreams”, and made sure to mention he would be extremely busy in the years after graduating high school.  You had received the underlying message loud and clear. He wanted to be left alone and didn’t want a girl from a regular family ruining his image when he entered the executive world. Your heart was shattered, but that didn’t stop you from missing Kiyoomi dearly even years later. The hugs that completely enveloped your frame and the scent of his light cologne, the one he brought you to pick out for him on his birthday. The rasp of his deep voice and how its sound had burrowed into the back of your brain, the memories of random things he once said to you popping to the forefront of your mind haphazardly throughout your days.

You had done as he said, and moved to the city to become an author as you always dreamed. Actually, you were pretty successful in the romance industry and even though you only had a handful of books published, your fanbase was so dedicated and charismatic. In your single year of dating Kiyoomi you had amassed a lifetime’s worth of romantic material, and between your real life experiences with him and the melancholy fantasies that kept you up at night nowadays, you had lots of inspiration. Although, even you were prone to the classically dreaded writer’s block.

Today was just a regular Tuesday morning in the office, where you preferred to write when you were stuck in a rut. Unfortunately, the coffee mug on your desk was not bringing the inspiration that you wanted and you glared at the last sip, willing some piece of creativity to be hiding inside as you downed it. Nothing. Loosening a sigh, you dropped your head into your hands just as a knock rapped on the door. Without lifting your head you greeted the visitor, already knowing who was on the other side.

“Come in!”

“How’s it coming? Anything I can get you right now?” It was the sweet front desk girl, Josie, checking in on you. Again. 

“Unless you can write in my place, there’s not much you can do for me i'm afraid” Josie meant well, but her insistent interruptions certainly were not helping your workflow, and this was the third time within 30 minutes she’s asked if you needed anything.

“Okie dokie, I’ll check back later then! Keep at it! ” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” She was off with a wave without hearing your response, the door slamming behind her. With another sigh, your head dropped back into your hands, frustration building. 

Not 5 minutes later, there was another knock at the door. But this time the door opened before you could respond.

“Holy shit, Josie i’m really fine I swear- K-Kiyoomi???” You burst from your seat in surprise, your eyes all but popping out of your head.

And there he was, like a fever dream come to life, standing in the doorframe. His handsome face tilted to the side slightly, a smirk pulling across his lips.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you” His voice had gotten deeper since the last time you spoke. His hair a little longer, his chest a bit stronger. But his eyes remained the same, that dark gaze enticing you and melting you down with just a look.

“W-what are you doing here? How did you-? What is this??” 

As much as you wanted to cave and run straight into his arms, you vividly recalled your last conversation with Sakusa. Not Kiyoomi. He had corrected you so coldly before parting, saying “you should call me by last name from now on, otherwise people may get confused”. As if it would be bad if people mistakenly thought you were still dating. As if to push you that much further away. Your confusion only grew as you looked at him now, unsure of his motives for being here. 

“Came to scope out a new prospect. I sent an executive to meet with your publishing house’s CEO last week” His smirk widened as he took deliberately slow steps into the room, sleek confidence dripping from him. 

That's right, your boss had mentioned that your little publishing house had been recently approached by a huge parent company with an amazing offer, but as far as you knew nothing had been made official. And you certainly had no clue that said parent company was the Sakusa Group. The realization settled in, and the frustration you felt earlier was starting to bubble up again. 

All of a sudden he was in your space, sleek black button-up shirt in your direct line of sight. What was his goal here? Certainly this has nothing to do with you? Right. Exactly. He claimed he was here for business. Then why..??

Long fingers gripped your chin, thumb tugging your bottom lip from between your teeth where you nervously chewed it. 

“Where did you pick up this bad habit? And when are you planning on acknowledging me properly?” Your heart dropped to your stomach. His firm grip brought your face to look up at his, a little too close for comfort. Kiyoomi’s smirk tilted into a small frown, an admonishing look starting to grow.

“Of course sir, I apologize. Good morning Mr. Sakusa.” Backing out of his hold, you bowed in respect. Of course he was here for just business. 

This only seemed to irritate him further though, and when you rose from your greeting he took another step closer. You may as well have been toe to toe now. 

“Since when do you address me that way?” His eyes were too intense, and you could feel the memories of your past relationship coming up in your mind, emotion nearly overwhelming you before you swallowed it down.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir, it would be improper for me to address you otherwise” 

If he was irritated before, then he was surely pissed off now. 

His hands gripped your shoulders, roughly pushing you back against your desk before planting his palms on either side, caging you in. 

“Why won’t you look at me, hm? It’s disrespectful to ignore your superior sweetheart” Shit. That voice had you in a vice grip and he knew it. He was using it to his advantage. 

“I was unaware you would be my business superior until a minute ago, forgive me sir” How long will your legs hold up before melting completely?

“Seems like something is bothering you. You don’t like the idea of working with me? Or maybe you don’t like the idea of me being your boss? Sweetheart, I hope you realize I know you’ve been writing about me.” 

“No! No thats not-!” Your head shot up in a rush to disagree, or maybe to explain. Either way, you immediately realized your mistake and you were silenced once more. The tip of your nose brushed his, and his breath brushed your lips in an intimate greeting, as if to say “hey, i missed you”. 

His mock irritation melted away, the smirk returning once more. You fell into the trap too easily.

Most people knew Sakusa to be the cool and straightforward man he showed to the world, but when you dated in high school he quickly shattered this image. Though he certainly preferred to stay away from crowds and strangers, he was still human after all, and loved to be in your personal space whenever he got you alone. He had always enjoyed making you blush and stutter, thriving off the knowledge that he could affect you so deeply. Clearly, he still enjoyed that feeling. 

But you were not a toy, and he was interrupting your work day. And how dare he just come back into your life after throwing you aside for so many years?! Absolutely not, you refused to be disrespected this way. Your hands came to his chest, giving him a solid (and completely ineffective) shove.

“No. This is not professional Mr. Sakusa-!” 

Sakusa didn’t back up a single inch. Instead he gripped your face, long fingers pinching into your cheeks slightly. Your breath caught in your throat, previous arguments completely obliterated.

“Stop. Saying. No. Now answer me. Since when do you call me by my last name? You’re purposely not answering my question” 

When you took a breath in you caught the scent of his cologne, and it was the same one you picked out for him in high school. He still wore it. Every single thought emptied out of your head, except for the recognition of how close he was to you, and where he was touching you. 

“Say it.”

“K-Kiyoomi...”

“Say it like you mean it, baby.”

“Kiyoomi.” A smile broke out as his name fell from your mouth a second time.

“That’s my girl, just as pretty as ever. I missed you so bad sweetheart, I’ve been looking for you in the city for some time now. And don't worry, I’ll make up for lost time, so don’t push me away.” 

His second hand came up to the back of your head, tugging you back by your hair and bringing your mouth to his. But he didn’t kiss you, he denied you the pleasure, only speaking against your lips. You let him do as he pleased, no longer able to deny how much you missed him. Missed this. 

“Look at you with your hair so grown out now.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love everything about you.” He moved to plant a firm kiss to both of your cheeks, and to your disappointment he slowly released his hands from your face and hair. 

“The Sakusa Group will officially be in ownership of your publisher by the end of the week. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, so get used to it sweetheart.” He offered no further explanations or goodbyes, and he left your office with only your disheveled and flustered state to prove that he had really been there at all. 

You made absolutely zero progress on your writing the rest of the morning and afternoon, but when you returned the next day ready for another day of failure, you opened the door to see your office transformed into a florist. 

There were flowers on every single surface, completely covering your desk and the floor. There were roses of every shade, along with tulips, orchids, and other kinds of flowers you had never even seen before. Each bouquet was bursting with color and life, wrapped in silk ribbons and set in gorgeous porcelain vases that looked absolutely priceless.  There was only a small path left open for you to walk to your desk seat, and on your keyboard was a note. 

“A flower for every occasion I missed. And more just because.” 

Your hand came up to your mouth, tears already welling up in your eyes. You looked to the bottom, and saw he signed the note,

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

[2-dsimp]

Temothy seems like the type to get his coworkers fired by framing them if they were to say even a single bad thing about y/n.

Same if he thinks an employee is flirting with y/n.

He'll memorize y/n's specific schedule down to the when they even take a first sip of their coffee (or whatever beverage they like) while knowing even the exact temperature his darling seems to like the drink, but will never remember his coworkers' names for the life of him.

Temothy the Bull/Assistant wouldn’t really need to resort to framing them, after all he could just make them willingly resign at the drop of the hat. To save you from having to pay them that severance fee. Since digital footprints are real, with just a couple Facebook scrolls, and stalking their pages on Instagram, TikTok, Reddit, or Twitter. And boom he’s got a loaded casestudy ready to blow their chances of having a peaceful life goodbye.

And being your assistant of course he’s gonna remember every single name of your employees written documents. Alongside every detestable mug plastered right next to their calling card. He may be clumsy at times but he’s far from negligent about his duties in serving his darling to the fullest of his capabilities.

Just in case he’d ever need to keep the pests in check. With a few phone calls and a voice modifier he’ll leave death threats. Taking his sweet time in making them become paranoid and anxious. If he ever found them talking shit about his lovely boss or even worse flirt with them.

As if they ever had the privilege of being graced with your attention that was meant only for him. And Being the bull he is, The assistant won’t hesitate on following through via impaling them with his horns as if they were in a bull riding event.

All in all Temothy’s almost like a loan shark, he’ll somewhat remain silent in exchange for some fruitful favors from the pitiful suckers. So in reality Your assistant has a collection of disposable pawns to aide him on securing his boss’s love.

[floralemi12]

This is my first time writing, so please be kind :) let me know anymore hotch x reader or criminal minds x reader stories you want to see💗

The bad morning

Y/N was having bad morning. Her car broke down, so she had to take the metro, and to top it all off, as soon as she stepped out of the platform, the clouds broke and down came heavy rainfall, soaking her from top to bottom. That’s how she found herself rushing through the bullpen, and practically throwing herself at her desk.

“Rough morning” Derek teased, from where he was sat at his own desk. “Rough life” y/n groaned, trying to ring her clothes out from the rain. “What happened sugar plum?” Garcia asked, dropping a fresh cup of coffee onto y/n’s desk. “Thank you” she smiled appreciatively. “Just a bad morning” she added, taking a sip. “I’m sorry, do you need anything?” Garcia smiled, wiping some of the dripping mascara from underneath y/n’s eye. “I’m okay, I think I’m just going to change into some clothes from my go bag” y/n said, reaching underneath her bag for the bag in question.

Without saying anything else y/n stalked off to the bathrooms, bumping into a chest as she went. “Sorry.. sorry!” She quickly apologised. “you okay?” A familiar voice asked, she looked up to see who she had bumped into, and was met with the face of her long time crush, and boss, Hotch. “I’m fine, sorry” she rushed out, taking a step back. “What happened?” He asked, taking in her appearance. “Ugh, a bad morning” she sighed, wanting to get out of her clothes, and forget about her terrible morning. “Is there anything I can do?” Hotch asked her, hating the sad look that had appeared in her eyes. It took him by surprise when he saw the state of her, the normally happy, carefree woman, looking frazzled, he missed the smile that he was used to her sporting. “No I’m okay, thank you Hotch, I’m just going to change and I’ll be good as new” she smiled up at him, before continuing to the bathroom.

A few hours later, a fresh outfit, and a dozen files of paperwork completed, y/n stretched her arms above her head before standing from her desk. “Anyone want any coffee?” She asked, looking over at her team. “Me please!” Spencer smiled, a chorus of agreement from Derek and Emily followed. Y/n made her way to the kitchenette to start a fresh pot of coffee, taking out 4 mugs and preparing them each to how her friends like it. Once she was done, she handed them out and returned to her desk, only to find it with a small box, which definitely wasn’t there before. “Huh?” She whispered to herself, opening up the box to find a singular, cupcake with rainbow sprinkles, her favourite. Looking around, she took note to see if anyone was watching her, trying to figure out who the mysterious sender was. Not noticing anything suspicious, she shrugged and accepted the cupcake with a real smile on her face for the first time that day.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes were watching her through the slit in his office blinds, wearing a grin that he wouldn’t admit to anyone, as he saw the happy expression make its way back onto her face.

Just as y/n finished the sweet treat, her phone buzzed from beside her on the desk. Picking it up she saw the familiar contact name of her boss and couldn’t help the grin that followed.

Boss Man: I hope it made up for your bad day :)

[lottins-only]

THE ALCHEMY

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness

summary: working at real madrid is a dream come true— until kylian mbappe, football's biggest star and the last person you ever want to see, joins the club. as tensions rise between you two and the lines between frustration and fascination blur, you wonder: can you truly resist the man you've sworn to hate?

A/N: based on this request. i know club employee x player is a bit overdone but i had so much fun writing this! let me know if it's worth continuing. pls also share any other thoughts you have in my inbox or in the comments, i love hearing from you guys <3

“it’s almost time!” your boss whisper-yells as he runs into the break room, the sudden interruption jolting you so much you spill coffee from the mug you were holding onto your pristine white shirt. “quick, everyone get ready!”

you set down your mug carefully, looking down at your ruined shirt with a sigh. it was bad enough you had to come in early today for his presentation, but now your daily morning coffee ritual in the break room was ruined – all for real madrid’s newest galactico.

after doing his medical exams, touring the training facilities and meeting his new teammates, kylian mbappe apparently insisted that he see the club offices before his stadium presentation, ‘to meet the employees that he now calls family’. you’d snorted when you read the email announcing his visit, irritated at the fact that you’d have to play nice to the most arrogant, self - absorbed person to ever step foot in madrid.

you figured he’d make a quick stop on the first floor to see the social media team. that was the department the players engaged with the most, anyway.  no way he’d go all the way up to the fourth floor, where the finance department resided. yet, here you are, standing with the rest of the team, facing the door, waiting to be graced by the presence of the best player in the world.

naturally, he’s running late. 

“we have our weekly meeting in 15” you frown, looking at your phone. “what’s taking him so long?”

“forget the weekly meeting. we’ll reschedule” your boss, who loathes postponing anything, waves you off dismissively. he’s unusually smiley today, practically vibrating with excitement. he even has the new mbappe jersey in hand, no doubt to ask for an autograph. you’ve never seen a grown man fanboy this hard; it’s kind of pathetic if you think about it. 

your ears perk up at the sound of commotion outside the double doors, where you can see there’s a small crowd of people forming. the doors swing open a few moments later and in walks the talk of the town, flanked by a couple staff members, what looked like his personal assistant, a small camera crew, and a bodyguard. you can hear the collective intake of breath from the room as soon as he walks in.

“hello, everyone!” he walks to the center of the room, practiced smile plastered on his face. " how's everyone doing? i'm really happy to be here!"

the team immediately erupts into applause at his words. you reluctantly join, rolling your eyes.

he starts shaking hands and exchanging quick hellos as he makes his way further in the room. when he approaches your group, he stops in front of your boss. you can't help but notice how his beige polo shirt and white shorts make him stand out sharply from the dozens of people in the room dressed in bland office attire.

"we-welcome to real madrid!" your boss exclaims, stumbling over his words. you stare at the ground, fighting the urge to laugh.

“thanks, I’m excited to meet all of you,” kylian replies warmly, his gaze shifting to you for a brief moment. “and you are…?”

" y/n l/n, financial analyst" you say, putting on your best fake smile. "pleasure to meet you"

"pleasure is all mine" he murmurs, extending his hand towards you. you shake it, and his grip is surprisingly firm and warm. you maintain eye contact, searching for something in his face.

“sorry, I was wondering if you could sign this?” your boss interrupts, gesturing to his jersey.

"of course" kylian says. you overhear your co-workers gushing over him as he signs the jersey, declarations ranging from "he's more handsome in person" to "i can't believe he's actually here". he has a small smirk playing on his face as he listens, the jerk. of course what he needs is more fodder for his already inflated ego.

after handing your boss his jersey back, he turns back towards you , catching you off guard. “so, how long have you been with the club?”

"two years" you respond. "best workplace in the world, as i'm sure you're going to find out"

"oh, i already know'" he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "i've been obsessed with this club since i was a little kid"

"really?" you tilt your head skeptically. " you didn't give that impression the past 6 years or so"

silence.

his eyes narrow, and was that an irritated look crossing his face? your heart races when you realize you've struck a nerve. he looks at you– really looks at you for the first time. before, you were just one of many he was obliged to make small talk to for the cameras but now you're the annoying woman who dares to question him.

“it's been a long road, i admit” he says carefully. “but i’m here now, and i’m just really happy”

“the biggest signing bonus we’ve ever given – i'd be surprised if you weren't over the moon” you say drily.

he clears his throat, smile completely faltering for a moment. “money isn’t my motivation”

“sure it isn’t!” you chirp sarcastically.

"no, really. i have plently of that already" he smirks, his gaze lazily dropping down to your chest. "you have a stain on your shirt, by the way”

"can we- shall we all gather for a group photo?" your boss, who was watching the entire exchange with a horrified look on his face, waves everyone over. he shoots you a pained look as he ushers kylian into the center of the group, mouthing a 'what the fuck???' over his shoulder. you grimace as you stand off to the side, arms crossed.

kylian lingers for a little bit after the photos, chatting with eager people, which, let's be honest, is everyone else besides you. a few minutes later his assistant announces that he needs to be on his way to get ready for the stadium presentation, so he makes his rounds again, shaking everyone's hand and saying goodbye individually.

when he approaches you, his smile fades a little. it thrills you to know it takes him more effort to fake his niceties with you.

"it was nice meeting you..." he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish the sentence.

you almost roll your eyes, of course he’s pretending not to remember your name.

“it’s y/n” your boss supplies when you stay silent. he’s grinning,  just glad to be of service to the great kylian mbappe.

“y/n, yes!” kylian’s eyebrows rise in feigned realization. He gives you an exaggerated apologetic shrug, then leans in close, whispering just for you, “sorry, y/n, it’s just that some names are…forgettable.”

"just like some nights are forgettable,” you whisper back “or at least you wish they were, just because they’re so fucking bad.”

he gives you a genuinely confused look, a question in his eyes.

“yeah, i’d block out the memory of lasting one minute too” you smirk. “ I still have your watch, by the way”

his eyes widen so much it’s almost comical. there’s an undeniable look of recognition on his face. oh, he remembers now.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s whisked away by his entourage. he's actually running late for his presentation now.

you shake your head as you watch him go. he's exactly as you remember him: all charm on the surface and arrogance underneath.

this is the story of how you come to despise kylian mbappe. it starts off six months before that fateful morning in madrid, in packed nightclub in paris. you're on a weeklong girls' trip, your first time in the city of love. you've done all of the activities on a tourist's checklist: gone sightseeing, had some of the amazing pastries, and of course, taken the mandatory instagram pictures.

on your last night, you and your friend decide to go to some of the most exclusive clubs in the city  – your friend, who does pr for the big fashion houses, has connections that get you past doors.

you're just coming out of a period of depression, something you’ve struggled with throughout your life. after several months of feeling like a grey cloud was hanging over you everywhere you went, you crave some excitement and spontaneity— basically something to remind you you're alive. and so you're a woman on a mission that night: to find a hot man and hook up with him. no strings attached.

it turns out, you don't have to look far. you're on the dance floor of the first club you visit, moving amongst the hot sweaty bodies when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

you turn to find a tall, burly man looking down at you.

“my friend wants to buy you a drink” he says without introduction, pointing up to the vip section where you honestly can’t see anything through a wall of bodyguards.

“okay” you say, smiling. “he can buy me a drink”

there’s an unspoken statement from his end. he wants you to come up

“how old is he?” you ask more out of curiosity than anything else. there’s no way you’re going with him. “and how tall?”

the bodyguard is obviously taken aback. “uh, he’s 25, and…6 feet?”

“6’2 and above only, sorry” you say, giggling as you walk away to your friends who are waiting at the bar.

before long, you find yourself on the dance floor again, pressed up against someone with your back to their front, swaying to the rhythm of the music. You don't even know what they look like, but their body feels strong, solid. when their fingers graze your hips, you flip around, curiosity getting the better of you.

to your credit, your face doesn’t give away the fact that you know this person. that you’re probably one of his biggest fans in the world. that you watch even the most boring of psg games just for him. or that you want him at your club so so badly. no, you’re smart enough to arrange your face into a facade of nonchalance.

the first thing you notice is the smell of dior sauvage, and then the pretty dimples he flashes you when he sees you’re facing him.

“your dimples are pretty” you shout over the loud music. oops. looks like you’re in the ‘speaking without a filter’ stage of being drunk.

“thanks” he says into your ear. “why did you say no to vip? i was hoping you’d come up”

realization hits. oh.

“you’re not 6 feet tall!” you shriek gleefully, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “your bodyguard lied”

"yeah, I'm 5'10" he’s got a look of amused confusion on his face. “not sure why that matters though”

“that’s kind of short for a guy” you say. “you chose the right sport”

he raises his eyebrows, perhaps surprised you recognize him. “let me buy you that drink. and maybe we can talk about something other than my height?”

and so it begins. you spend the next thirty minutes at the bar pretending you both don’t know where this is leading and what you both want. you talk about madrid, how your time in paris is going. you don’t mention your employer, and he doesn’t talk about his impending transfer. he’s surprisingly witty and observant, something you don’t expect from a celebrity, and certainly not a footballer. at one point in the conversation, his hand lands on your thigh and it doesn’t leave. you’re drowning in anticipation, in want.

finally, he suggests you take this somewhere else. somewhere quiet, where you can 'talk more'.

you say yes. soon you’ve said your goodbyes to your friends and you’re in his car, and you don’t even know where you’re going, because you've both dropped all pretenses and are making out in the backseat. he's great at kissing, and even better at making you forget your name as soon as he touches you.

you hesitate for a brief second when you see you’ve arrived at a hotel a few minutes later, but his hand is warm on yours, so you let him lead you inside. everything after this is a blur— you remember the short elevator ride, his room key flashing, his lips immediately finding yours again as soon as the door clicks shut.

inside the room, your kisses grow heated, but they’re sloppy and unfocused. his hands are everywhere, sliding all over your body frantically. you both stumble over to the bed hazily, clothes disappearing off your bodies in the process.

it’s fast. so fast that you don’t realize it’s began until it’s over. afterwards, he collapses against you in a breathless heap, and you can only stare at the ceiling, trying to fend off the crushing weight of disappointment.

you roll him off your body slowly, but he doesn’t protest because he’s already dozed off. the alcohol has dulled your thoughts and your senses, but you can’t shake the creeping sense of hurt. somehow, sleep takes over you as well.

you stir awake a few hours later. the other side of the bed is empty, but you can hear movement from the bathroom. you're rubbing your eyes, groggy, when something catches your attention —his phone, which sits on the bed side table, is unlocked and displaying a text conversation.

don't do it, you think, do NOT do it.

but your hand treacherously reaches out and grabs the phone. you find that it’s a group chat of him and his friends. you skim over the texts quickly, aware that he's just in the other room.

tchaga: Kylian where tf are you???

kylian: with that girl from the club

ous: bro we stopped by your place you weren’t there

kylian: you know I don’t take groupies to my place what if she’s like in love with me

ous: 😭😭

tchaga: was it worth ditching your friends

kylian: I don’t remember a lot tbh. sucks, because I had to pretend I wanted to talk to her for like 30 minutes before we got to the hotel🙄

kylian: think I’ll head out before she wakes up and it gets awkward haha

your stomach immediately starts to churn with a mixture of humiliation and hurt. you're not an idiot, you knew what you signing up for when you left that club with him. a fun, meaningless hookup was what you wanted. but you didn't think it would be this. you're nauseous with disgust— not just at him, but at yourself. he brought you to a hotel, took what he wanted, and now he's laughing about it with his boys. you feel cheap, like he used and discarded you.

the worst part is, you used to like the guy. you were a huge fan of him as a footballer, and maybe even harbored a little crush on him. now you don't even want to see his face ever again.

you put the phone down quickly when you hear the bathroom door creak open, closing your eyes and pretending to sleep. you can hear him as he quietly moves around while he gets dressed. seconds later, you hear the click of the door shutting behind him.

just like that, he's gone.

you're not far behind him, eager to leave the room and the night behind. as you're gathering your things, you spot his watch on the bedside table. in a flash of anger, you stuff it in your purse along with your belongings. you also see he’s left a note, but you throw that into the trash without reading it. then you're out the door.

so, that's the story of how you come to hate kylian mbappe: in one careless, thoughtless night, he crushed the fragile self esteem you managed to rebuild over the past couple months, leaving you feeling smaller than ever. like you're worthless.

and now he's living in the same city as you, playing for the same club you work for. he's got everyone wrapped around his finger, worshipping the ground he walks on. and you? you'll never not despise him, that's for sure. come hell or high water.

taglist: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @loonworld @ajsboys

[bananayuyu]

Between the Blinds

Pairing: Yeosang x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Your favorite coworker is handsome, but oh so quiet. It's not until you stumble upon a lewd scene at work that you understand who he really is.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, masturbating at work, handjob

A/n: I absolutely love ateez in suits so that is what I imagined for this entire fic. Also, I would generally advise against many of the things that happen in this fic, but it is certainly fun to fantasize. Hope you enjoy! :)

Yeosang was by far your favorite coworker.

From the moment you met you felt a spark there when your eyes met, like a tiny thread suddenly stretched between your brains so you could feel and think everything he was feeling and thinking. He was quiet, the quietest in the office. He worked in a small office on his own, at his request. He was smart and efficient, and the boss liked him. So did everyone else, from a distance. He didn't let anyone in and never socialized; no one really knew him or knew much about his life. All they knew was his stunning face, his perfectly shaped body, and on the occasion when he had to use it, his deep and expressive voice. Many people in the office were in love with him; it was a regular topic of conversation.

It was your first real job post-college, your first true taste of independence. You had always been so responsible, getting straight As and going to bed at 10pm sharp. Your life was impressive from the outside but lacked intrigue, and you knew you were prone to daydreaming and delusion to keep yourself entertained. It was something almost no one knew about, and you had no intention of changing that. Your infatuation with Yeosang, and especially your certainty that he felt the same, was something you kept to yourself.

It started the second day. You were in the kitchen making coffee first thing in the morning. As you stood in front of the machine you yawned and closed your eyes, oblivious to Yeosang entering. He moved quietly, as he did everything quietly. You were wearing a fitted black top and tight black slacks, the shape of your body on full display. Yeosang just kept staring at you from the side, his eyes scanning your body, your thighs and your hips, and finally landed on your chest. His reaction to you was visceral and uncontrollable, taking him by surprise. He gulped as you finally looked over to him, clearly catching him checking you out. You looked at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, confused if you saw what you thought you did.

"Sorry, sorry." The words tumbled out of him. He turned and walked away, a blush beginning to spread over his cheeks. You looked down to see his coffee mug on the counter, still empty. Filling it, you couldn't help but smile at the way your body felt warm, his look of lust replaying in your head.

"Come in," he says when you knock on his door, his mug of coffee in your hand.

"You forgot your coffee," you say.

"Oh, you didn't have to. Thank you, though," he responds, this time more smoothly.

"It's Yeosang, right?" you ask, having not forgotten since your introduction the day before but wanting to make conversation.

"Yes. And you're y/n, right?" he responds.

"Yeah. I started yesterday."

"I hope everyone has been welcoming so far."

"Oh yes. They all say you never talk to anyone, though. Is that true?"

Yeosang's eyes widen, caught off guard by how direct you are. "Well, yes, generally. But you can always come knock if you have a question. I'm just not really, well, very social. I prefer to work on my own."

"That's fair," you say, staring at his perfect lips, at the way his nose slopes so gently. He probably can't deal with unwanted attention, you imagine. But he stares back and you feel it, that first tug of the thread connecting your minds, your own cheeks suddenly flushing just as his are. "I like being around people, sometimes," you say, knowing the words are clumsy and so simple but needing something to say. The little office feels warm and you feel yourself melting, wanting nothing more than to live in this moment forever. But suddenly another knock sounds on the door.

"Come in," Yeosang responds, just as before. Your bosses head appears around the door, and your chest suddenly tightens. He asks Yeosang a quick question and reintroduces the two of you; you catch a slight look of amusement Yeosang gives you, at the way your boss is being overly professional.

And that's how it began, always a bit awkward, always a bit tense. There was the time you thought you saw a bug in the kitchen and screamed and grabbed his arm, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up that day because someone had cranked the heat too high. Your hand on his arm felt electric, the skin to skin contact even more intoxicating than you could imagine. Then there were the notes, little jokes or observations he left for you on your desk. Always tucked under your coffee mug at the corner of your desk. And your responses, always laid on top of the stacks of paper you had to bring him. There was the time he asked you to print something for him, then came into the printer room and stood right behind you, reaching over to grab something on a shelf above. You had heard him enter the room that time and tried to move out of the way but he held you in place with one hand on your waist and you stood frozen, feeling the tense muscles of his chest and abdomen against your shoulders. There were the early mornings which no one but you two volunteered for, when clients from oversees wanted to video conference at a certain time or meet last minute in the office before a flight. As he made you both coffee you sat on the counter next to him, your eyes roaming his face.

"What do you want?" he'd ask, rolling his eyes.

"You, duh," you would say sarcastically, but you were only half joking, of course. He would laugh, a rare sight and one you felt priviledged to see. "I'm just making sure you make my coffee right, dummy."

"I always make your coffee right, smart-ass," he'd reply.

"Fine, I'll leave you to it then," you'd say, jumping off the counter and sauntering away. It was always fun, always got you excited. You barely even needed the caffeine to be awake for those early morning meetings, as long as Yeosang was there.

It continued like this for a while, for longer than you expected. You weren't really sure where it would head or what could even come of it. For one, you worked together. And your interactions were still sometimes awkward or stilted; though it was almost more endearing, it also made you wonder if he even liked you. Or if you were just two coworkers, joking around to pass the time. Regardless, your feelings grew and grew, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. When you asked your best friend what to do, she recommended being a bit bolder.

"Who cares if you work together, you probably won't in a year. It's not like you're gonna be there forever. And if you really like him... just go for it."

"I do," you said, sighing. Sighing, because when did this situation get so complicated? For you, emotionally, that is. It was all so fun usually. But you felt something building inside you, and realized you really did care. It was less than wholesome, you had to admit. And you wanted it, wanted him badly. It wasn't like you often came across people who you found so damn attractive.

So you decided to do something about it.

The next week you wore your favorite long sleeve t-shirt, one that's hem came right below your belly-button, hugging your body just the way you liked. It was a little casual for your current job, but that didn't matter. The slight strip of skin that showed above your pants was suddenly cold as you entered the office in the early morning, another morning with just Yeosang. As you made coffee you waited for him, and finally he entered, later than you expected. He was hard to read but if any word described him that day he seemed distant. He took one look at you and did a double take, his tired eyes passing over your outfit. He looked almost disapproving, and it made you laugh. Once again he was unable to take his eyes off you and you felt sure, if only for a moment, that he liked you too. But that itself wasn't enough.

"You did your buttons wrong," you say, walking up to him and unbottoning a few on his shirt, the words a complete lie. He looked completely professional and put together, as he always did. But you wanted to touch him, you needed to see his reaction. You redid the buttons and smoothed the shirt down over his torso, then ran a hand along his arm and redid the button on his cuff. You could feel his body tensing, and heard him gulp. You looked up at him, his pupils larger than you expected in the brightness of the office. And then you ran your hand up to his chest and felt his heart beat, strong and very fast.

"Your heart is racing, are you that nervous for our meeting?" you teased, hoping to get a reaction out of him. But none of it was working. He just stared at you, his face nearly blank as he clearly was working very hard to keep it that way. You knew everything you did wasn't the most creative or forward but still, how was he not reacting? And why wouldn't he say something by now if he liked you too? Your frustration at him was building and you knew it was illogical. The months of flirting were making you pent up and you needed something, anything, from him to feel some relief.

Soon enough the normal day started, and everyone else had arrived. It felt like your opportunity was missed, but you were determined not to let the day go to waste. You thought on it for a while, as you made copies and busied yourself by pretending the machine was giving you trouble. You went back and forth with yourself, weighing the risk of your ideas. Eventually you decided you didn't care to be careful.

How do you look so fine in just a plain black and white suit? the note read, sitting atop the pile of copies you made for him. You set it in his office with a thud, running out without even making eye contact with him. Your heart pounded; it was your first real and direct admission that you found him attractive. Now he must have something to say, you thought. He must have some reaction.

You had to wait another hour, the time passing agonizingly slowly, and again you had to busy yourself with your work and pretend everything was fine. As Yeosang got ready to leave he came by your desk; if you hadn't spent months observing him so closely you probably wouldn't have been able to tell his gait was off, betraying his nervousness.

"These copies came out poorly, can you make some more before you leave today? You can just leave them in my office," he said, his voice clearly full of tension, his volume just high enough for you to hear. He too wasn't making eye contact with you, his gaze stuck on the far wall, like the blankness of it was somehow mesmerizing.

"Oh, um, of course. Sorry about that. I'll go redo them here in a moment," you say awkwardly.

"Great, thanks," he says, walking away as he swallowed thickly.

You glance down at the stack to see a small piece of paper folded on top, the top page of the stack appearing to have been copied just fine. You glance around to see if anybody is watching you, your heart in your throat in anticipation of Yeosang's response. You hear his office door open and close as you pick up the note, and see his back swiftly exit the front doors of the office. He is rushing, there's no doubt. Your excitement builds at this, feeling like he must have written something naughty, or at least not very work appropriate.

Finally, after one more check of everyone around, you open the note.

Be careful, smart-ass

I'm your coworker

And that was it.

A quick pang of embarrassment runs through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. That's it? you think. How the hell could you have read it all wrong? He clearly, obviously likes you too. But the note is so short, it's impossible to read between the lines. The first line is somewhat jokey, an inside joke between just the two of you. But the second, so short and plain, is hard not to interpret seriously. Maybe he doesn't like you, at least not like that. Or maybe he's warning you not to do things like that at work. But if not here, where? He keeps everything about himself private and leaves before you every day.

As you sit stewing in your embarrassment, the feeling starts turning more to anger, more to frustration. Well, you thought, if that's how it is, I guess I was wrong. You doubt he wants you to entirely ignore him but that's what you pledge to do, if for no other reason than to save your feelings. You certainly weren't going to let a coworker ruin how you feel at your job. Things had been going smoothly on the professional front, and you weren't going to let this screw things up for you. You decided it was time for seriousness and responsibility again. It killed a part of you, the part that had so enjoyed messing with Yeosang and fantasizing. But your anger and frustration at him was winning out. No more playing around. Even if he meant it jokingly, he wasn't making that clear. And that pissed you off more than anything, that he wasn't letting you in or telling you how he truly felt.

The next weeks are agony, to put it lightly. Self doubt plagues you constantly as you question your initial reaction, wondering if being so upset with him is even warranted. But then you think of the months of flirting, the months of trying to pry open a small door and him never even giving you an inch. You hadn't realized it at the time but looking back your frustration had been building, every single day that he joked with you but stayed so guarded. You considered that maybe your reaction was a bit unwarranted. But it made sense to you. There was just something in you, something that needed more of him, that needed access to the human parts.

It was dull but it was work, and you made it through. You thought is was probably for the best, that you were doing the right thing by not flirting with your coworker anymore. Things almost felt like they had reached a new equilibrium, and you felt like you could be just as satisfied with your work again, once you finally processed your little crush and the embarrassment over the note you left. How utterly childish, you thought. You were determined to be a professional adult. Unfortunately, one of your coworkers had other plans for you. It was out of nowhere, caught you completely off-guard, and unfortunately undid in a moment the nonchalance you had worked so hard to attain.

"Y/n, don't you think Yeosang's been weird lately?" Nora, your desk neighbor asks you one day. You were truly focused on reading a report and felt snapped back to reality, your heart squeezing in your chest at the mention of him. Of course, you think, he hasn't been normal cause he hasn't been flirting with me. Cause I've been fucking avoiding him. But you can't tell her that.

"What do you mean?" you ask instead, giving her an encouraging look. It isn't like you to be interested in talking about office gossip, so anytime you are interested your coworkers don't hold back.

"I swear he takes forever to respond to my emails now. And Jun said the same. I know he's always been quiet but he like barely leaves that office of his anymore. It's like he's hiding away in there. But then why is he not responding to our emails quickly? He used to just fine. And if he's in there all the time he should be even faster, if anything."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," you lie, swallowing the lump forming in your throat, trying to keep your racing thoughts at bay. "About the emails, I mean. But yeah he's barely been out here recently. I wonder why?"

"A part of me is like, he's probably just feeling down lately or something," Nora responds," but then another part of me is like, he's probably up to no good in that office. I mean if he's so distracted every afternoon that he can't answer my emails for like three hours, what is he doing?"

"I don't know," you sigh out, turning back to the report. But Nora won't let it go.

"You seemed to get along well with him, what do you think it is?" she asks you.

"I don't know. He's very guarded Nora, I don't know him any better than the rest of you. Which is probably a good thing, we are coworkers after all." You sigh at your words. Nora looks at you intently, like she's expecting something. "What? You want me to go ask him or something? No way in hell is that happening."

"I know, I know. But listen, I had an idea. I know it's kind of insane but I was thinking, you know how his office door has those blinds? He keeps them closed all the time so no one can see in. But what if they were open and we could take a peek in there? It's always after lunch that he doesn't respond. I have an old stack of things I'm supposed to take to him before I shred today, and you have your daily afternoon delivery to him. What if when I'm walking out I open the blinds, just slightly? And then you can take a peak when you go over there, just before you knock so he doesn't know you're there."

"Oh, Nora," you sigh, shaking your head slightly but also smiling. You know you shouldn't engage in this ridiculousness, that you should be more mature than this. But you can't help being intrigued. If she's the one who opens the blinds you won't feel like it's your fault if you accidentally see anything. You can' imagine you will, given how professional Yeosang is at work. Or that Nora will even be able to open them. But something within you is very excited by the idea. You try desperately not to show it.

"I doubt you'll even be able to open them," you say. "And what if he sees you doing it? He's gonna be confused and creeped-out." You know you should be discouraging her but you can't bring yourself to tell her no.

"You don't know how stealthy I am," she responds.

"You're crazy," you say, laughing and shaking your head. This time you really do go back to your report, not letting her keep the conversation going.

It only takes about thirty minutes and she's back at her desk, leaning over towards you.

"I did it!" she whisper yells, excited and clearly proud of herself. All you can do is still shake your head, not believing she actually went through with her plan. "You better tell me what you see later y/n."

"Fine, I will," you tell her, trying to pretend like you don't care. You know you shouldn't; a sneaking feeling that you're both invading his privacy sweeps through your gut. But the excitement is still bubbling away, unfazed.

Finally your lunch break approaches and you head outside, not wanting to be bothered by anyone. You've started doing this ever since you started ignoring Yeosang, ever since he left you that note. Being inside with everyone during lunch no longer appeals to you; the pain of seeing him grab his food out of the fridge only to head back to his tiny office is too much to handle. And today especially, after that conversation with Nora, you desperately need the fresh air. It's hotter than ideal but the solitude feels nice. The loud sounds of the street are a welcome distraction, your brain still reeling. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to keep yourself calm. What on earth had come over you? An anger like nothing you've ever experienced has hit you; it is laced with shame and longing, and feels utterly overpowering. You miss terribly your interactions with him, even if they were short, even if they never left you feeling satisfied.

When you head back in you see the stack of reports you made this morning on your desk, the stack you must deliver to Yeosang. Your heart always sinks this time of day, when you have to knock on his door, say a quick hello, and leave. You always want to do more, to stay and poke fun at him, to stare at his face for just a little too long. But you've stopped that now.

When you finally grab them, finally adjust your outfit and take a deep breath as you ready yourself, Nora smiles mischievously at you, reminding you of what she wants you to do. You give her a look of distain but you nod anyway, making your way over. The walk feels miles long, though it only takes you some fifteen seconds to make it to his door. As you get close your steps slow down; you attempt to keep them silent on the tiled floor of the hallway. You see now, the little gaps in the blinds that Nora had somehow opened unnoticed. Had Yeosang really not closed them again? Had he really not noticed the small streams of light coming into his office that usually weren't there? You took a big deep breath, your arms clenching the stack of papers in your hands. You were just to the side of his door, not truly able to see in yet. You weren't sure what you should do; you felt stuck. A wave of nauseating anxiety ran over you, making you shaky. This isn't worth the stress, you thought. You decided to just walk in, to not play the game Nora wanted you to.

You take a step, about to reach up to knock on the glass of his door, but your eye catches on something. It's Yeosang's monitor, and the movement of his arm. The picture on his screen is unmistakably someone in a bikini, and the movement of his left elbow suggests a rhythmic up and down motion of his hand. You stop in your tracks, completely taken aback. You're reeling from how unprofessional and lewd the scene is, something you never would have expected from your quiet, proper coworker. The shock of the situation makes you unable to move as a wave of jitters runs through you, so strong you forget what you're doing, forget that Nora might be watching. Other people might start to as well, if they see you stood outside his office for an unusual amount of time. What feels like thousands of options of what to do next flood your mind in an instant, making it impossible for you to choose one. As you stand frozen you continue to watch his screen, his right hand reaching up towards his mouse. Suddenly you see the bikini in the photo, the bright red and white one you got last summer for your beach trip with your best friend. What the fuck? And then the next photo, the tab he clicks to, is unmistakably a girl in your favorite pink hoodie, and that photo, you know it from somewhere, right?

All at once you realize Yeosang is scrolling your best friend's Instagram, looking for photos of you, while jacking off. What the fuck is he doing, you think, anger shooting through you ferociously. You can't explain your next movements, your body on auto pilot, your entire being focused on one thing and one thing only. You open his office door without knocking, spinning around and closing it as fast as you can, dropping the stack of papers in your hands on the side of his desk without warning.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you ask as you loom over him, doing nothing to hide your anger.

"Fuck, y/n, what are you..." Yeosang trails off, scrambling to zip his pants and buckle his belt again, his hand flying to close the open tabs on his monitor. But you're fast enough to grab his arm and stop him, staring back at the photos of yourself on vacation. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, this is so wrong, I know, I'm so sorry," Yeosang babbles out, his words running together, his chest heaving from how turned on and scared he is. Even though what he's done is obvious grounds for being fired, for even struggling to find a new job, he can't help how hot it was, your presence suddenly upon him as he was touching himself to the thought of you. The anger in your tone only heightened the feeling, his head feeling faint as the rest of his body stood rigid.

He always worried about being caught ever since he started this, ever since you started ignoring him. He worried someone else would somehow catch him, that he might lose his job. But he just couldn't help himself. No one had ever had the affect on him that you did. He missed the ways you flirted with him, the actions and words that he'd think about as he touched himself late at night to the thought of you. Work became mind numbingly boring once you stopped talking to him, and having his own office allowed him the privacy to do what he needed to. He knew it was so wrong; he really couldn't explain it. And he couldn't explain or understand how turned on it made him now, your angry face looming over his, still unsure of what you would do next.

"What is wrong with you?? You're jacking off at work??" You speak sternly but try to keep your volume down. You feel the thread between your minds again, this time red and singeing, and realize your anger is turning him on even more.

"I don't know, I-"

"No, shut up. Don't say a fucking word to me. You leave me a note telling me to be careful?! And you're doing this?!" you continue, climbing onto his chair now, your faces getting closer and closer. The fact that he's hot and bothered by your anger, the look of terror and embarrassment on his face, it gives you a head rush like nothing you've ever experienced. Suddenly you feel yourself throbbing, needing something to take the edge off. You sit your hips down on his and immediately feel how rock hard he is, his dick straining against his pants. You slowly roll your hips back and forth, the friction making your cunt warm and tingly. Yeosang throws his head back with a groan, the layers of fabric cruelly limiting him from feeling any relief at your actions.

"Fuck, y/n-"

You grab his head, moving him to face you.

"Shut. Up," you whisper, moving your face down to kiss him, roughly sucking on his bottom lip. You keeping rocking yourself back and forth, a haze setting over your senses, your mind lost in the feeling of finally being on top of him.

"You really missed me that badly? That you had to touch yourself to pictures of me?" you taunt him, whispering in his ear. His head falls back again at your words, tears starting to form in his eyes at the frustration he feels between his legs. His hands come up to grab at your thighs and ass, completely overcome with lust and desire. You look down between you at his bulge, the sight of it straining making your mouth water. You move yourself back and begin unzipping his pants; Yeosang's head shoots up at the sound, his eyes joining yours in staring down at his crotch. His cock is hard and already leaking when you pull it out, and you spread his precum around his tip with your thumb slowly. Yeosang lets out a whimper, his whole body feeling on fire with your hand finally on his cock.

"This is what you really wanted, isn't it? Me touching you when we're at work and I'm mad at you? Are you that fucking perverted?" You can't stop teasing him, loving the way you feel so powerful, the way he is like putty in your hands. You spit into your hand and spread it down his shaft, finally starting to pump you hand slowly, watching the way his face scrunches up in pleasure and his body submits to you. "Is that all you think about when you see me, me touching you until you come? How do you even get any work done? You're just pathetically horny in here all day, touching yourself?"

Yeosang's breaths are coming out fast and ragged, his chest and face flushed and beads of sweat forming on any and all exposed skin. You lean down and swipe your tongue along his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin, how warm and soft it is. Your hand is pumping faster now, your motions slowly picking up to what Yeosang needs, which is a total ravishing. He has long forgotten his professional morals, long forgotten how wrong he thinks this is. He'd do anything to have it last forever. "Y/n, y/n..." he mumbles out, trying to tell you to go harder, go faster. But he can't get the words out, his mind is too hazy. Regardless he's even harder now, his dick flushed and almost painfully hard.

All at once his breaths speed up, and then he's moaning involuntarily, clearly close to the edge. You move off his lap as quickly as you can, momentarily moving your hand away from him. He looks up at you as if confused, his eyebrows slightly raised in the middle.

"No way am I letting you ruin my pants, I just got them last weekend," you say, your tone patronizing. "You can ruin your own pants." You're touching him again, pumping your hand up and down, your mouth on his neck. You look and see his monitor is still lit up, still set on the picture of you in your bikini. "Look at the screen Yeosang," you whisper in his ear. "Is this what you've been coming to for the past weeks? This little, innocent picture? All because I stopped talking to you? You poor, poor thing." Yeosang whines as you tease him, pathetic little mewls coming out at every word. And then he's falling over the edge, coating his nice black work pants in his own cum. His body shudders as you keep stroking him, riding out the entirely of his orgasm. As soon as it's over you both are shocked back to reality, Yeosang attempting to get his breathing under control. Your hand is covered in his cum, your own face beaded in sweat. You look around quickly and grab a tissue from the corner of his office, wiping down your face and neck before trying to clean your hand. The nastiness of what you did hits you, your stomach tying in knots at the thought of everyone having heard you. You look back at Yeosang who has turned in his desk chair to face you, his eyes not leaving you, his face strangely calm in the face of your obvious panic.

"What?" You can't hide how unsettled you are. Yeosang just smiles and chuckles. "I don't get why you're so calm, you're going to have to walk out of here with no pants on," you say, wiping the last of his cum off your hand and tossing the tissue in his small trash can.

"I'll just change into my gym clothes early, and if anyone asks, I'll just say I spilt coffee on myself. No one will know, no one will care," he responds. Again so composed, mere moments after you had him moaning and whining. It pisses you off, how relaxed he is already.

You start towards his door, realizing now that the length of time you spent in here will probably seem suspicious. But Yeosang grabs your arm, stopping you and turning you towards him.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" he asks, worried by your demeanor.

"Yeosang, stop," you say, stepping back from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I should not have been doing that. I will quit tomorrow if it'll make you feel better."

"No, Yeosang, no. Just... fuck. I'm sorry, I don't know what the fuck I just did..."

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, if that's what you're concerned about."

"No Yeosang, I-" you sigh, trying not to overreact. "God you annoy me," you huff out, shaking your head at him. He smiles, not sure how to respond.

"Y/n, listen-"

"No, no. We're not talking about this. I'm leaving, I've already been in here too long." With that final statement you step out, immediately making your way to the restroom to assess how bad you look.

Thankfully the damage is mild, your hair just a bit more frizzy due to the sweat and heat of the room. But overall you look normal, at least as far as you can tell. When you finally make your way back to your desk Nora is nearly jumping out of her chair with anticipation.

"So, what did you see?'" she asks.

"Oh, it wasn't anything weird, just a spreadsheet he was entering stuff into. And making a graph it looked like? Probably something special the boss requested."

"But you were in there so long," she responds, with a slight frown.

"Yeah, one of the reports had something confusing on it, he was asking me some questions. I think he's just busy with work Nora, that's why he's slow with the emails." Your body is buzzing, lying not something you feel accustomed to.

"Well, I guess this place is super boring after all," Nora concludes, sighing and going back to her work.

You spend the rest of the afternoon fighting back a smile, trying not to visibly shake as the adrenaline is still pumping through you. Your emotions are all over the place. Your mind races and you can't make sense of most of it but there's one thing you definitely know.

You've never felt so powerful in your life.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crossed Wires 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Cole sighs over his own insulated mug. You want to strangle him already. Does he have to moan with each sip? 

“Mm, coffee,” he pops his wet lips as he sits back, reaching to adjust the passenger seat, “medicine.” 

“Advil, that’s real medicine, there’s some in the compartment,” you say dully. 

“Oh shoot, you’re a life saver, Ma was all out.” 

He clunks the cup into the plastic holder by the console and unclasps the glove compartment. He shakes the bottle in triumph and your fingers tighten on the wheel. He’s like a kid sometimes, though you’ve heard a few compare him to a puppy. You don’t find the latter very apt; puppies are cute. 

“Odinson say what the problem was?” You ask. 

“The back up generator. He’s having some party but the old thing keeps clanking,” Cole explains, “he didn’t say too much about it. He was more into the shindig. Sounds like a good time.” 

You arch a brow. Shindig. 

You drive on. You know it’s going to be tedious job, especially with your boss around. You hate that he insisted. You can handle it on your own. He knows that. In fact, you’re better off without him. You’re only concern is that he gets his wires straight. 

The Odinson hotel greets you in all its resplendence. You park and finish the dregs of your lukewarm coffee. You hop out and grab your bag out of the back as Cole tangles his arm in the seatbelt trying to get out. Lord help you. 

You hike up your bag and take his, marching around to shove it against him. He thanks you and his hands brush yours as he accepts it. You refrain from shaking your head. 

“Come on, no time to waste.” 

You sidestep him and he lingers for a moment, as if he’d expected something more. He’s strange. You’re used to it but you still notice.  

He jogs to catch up with you and you approach the front doors together. He yelps as Thor bursts through them but you don’t flinch. As often as you’ve dealt with the boisterous man, you expect it. He’s loud and bold. If Cole is a puppy, he’s a full grown labrador. 

“There you are. And you brought the lady,” Thor nods in your direction, “excellent. Never bad to have an extra set of hands. Especially such pretty ones.” 

You could scoff. Your nails are cut short and neat, your fingers marred by callouses and cuts, and your skin to dry for comfort. You stare as Cole stutters awkward. 

“Uh, m-morning, Thor,” he greets. 

“Ah, still recovering?” Thor challenges and comes up next to Cole, clapping his back so he squeaks. “I told you not to challenge me.” 

“Huh, yeah, well...” 

You don’t ask. You don’t care. 

“We had a bit of a drinking contest last night, lady. You should have been there. Did he not mention that I valiantly carried him home?” 

You could snort. You don’t, but you could. You glance over. 

“Sounds irresponsible.” 

Thor laughs as he opens the door and beckons you both through. They let you ahead. You always hated that practice. You’re fine following them. 

“Ha, I like this one,” he declares, “she is honest.” 

“Heh, yeahhh,” Cole drags out the word nervously. “Very.” 

“Anyhow, I have much work to do. The party will be here before we know it,” Thor declares and goes ahead of you to lead you. 

You follow him down the narrow stairway near the rear of the hotel with Cole at your back. He’s closer than your like, just on the step behind you. Once more his hand brushes yours as he gets a bit too eager near the bottom and knocks into you from behind. You let out a growl. 

You pass the laundries where you previously rewired a few machines and carry on to the electric room. Thor flips on the crackling light, revealing a row of generators in varying condition. He steps up to the most ragged and taps it with his knuckles. 

“This one has been talking,” he explains. “Rather loudly. I think it is a cry for help.” 

You step forward without hesitation. Cole stands back as you reach into your bag and grab your multitool. You swiftly unscrew the control panel and look inside. Your examination is thorough as you slip behind to flash a light through the slatted venting there. 

“Ah, yes, she is small. She fits where you cannot,” Thor comments. 

“Uh, sure,” Cole agrees. 

“Anyhow, this party,” Thor intones, “are you coming? There will be lots of pretty girls.” 

“Oh, well...” Cole hesitates. You don’t know why. He’s a horrid flirt but brazen regardless. And a romantic to boot. He’s the type to bore you to death with his fairytale fantasies. “Maybe.” 

“You will come,” Thor insists, “I know you will. And lady,” Thor raises his voice, “of course the invitation extends to you as well.” 

“Mm, not much into parties,” you grumble as you poke your head out. “It smells like burning toast.” 

“Perhaps the kitchen...” Thor suggests. 

“You didn’t mention the burning smell. I need to shut this down, now. The switch will reroute to the others but the problem isn’t the back up. It’s this one. It needs a replacement.” 

“The others will hold?” 

“For a time,” you go back to the control panel and fiddle inside. “Tell the cleaner not to run the washers and dryers at the same time for now.” 

“Right,” Thor agrees grimly. “Can we have the new one by the party?” 

“Certainly can. Get Cole the money and I’ll pick up a generator today.” 

“Today?” They echo in unison. 

“They got an overstock place in the city. I’ll get one there,” you pause as the generator putters out as you shut it down. 

“Yeah, we’ll go get a new one and invoice you,” Cole adds. 

“We?” You screw the panel back on. 

“Yeah, it’ll be big, right?” He smiles. 

You look at him, “I have a dolly.” 

“I could use the drive. Clear out the cobwebs,” he turns to Thor and offers his hand, “I’ll send over the paperwork.” 

“You’re a fine man, Turner,” Thor shakes his hand. “But you leave all the behind for the party. It’s going to get wild.”