.ᐟ.ᐟ ATTENTION grace x reader, servicetop!grace, fingering (reader receiving), fem!reader, wlw, dacryphilia, domesticated couple, squirting -- not being able to sleep, you ask if grace can do anything to get you to shut your eyes. she knows exactly what to do. NOT proofread ;-;
it’s not often you find yourself in the middle of a sleepless night. you may not always get the recommended eight hours, but you typically make it through the night. and when you can’t?
your girlfriend, GRACE ASHCROFT, is always there to help you wind down. shy demeanor on the shelf with you, the only reason her heart rate is up now is due to the favor she's filling for you.
she knows exactly how to keep your body laced in her lanky arms, encouraging you to lean back into her chest while her fingers plunge into you fluidly…intentionally. grace replays your excuse as she anchors you to her body with an arm around your chest.
“i can’t fall asleep.”
her breaths match your gasps, the tip of her nose deep in your dimple while she works her fingers in you. the groggy young woman fight sleep with stronger pulses of her fingers, wrist beginning to tighten.
“gra—“ she immediately shushes you, shaking her head and propping your leg higher into the air with a thigh between your legs.
“that feel good?” she whispers against your flesh, feeling your body rock back into her. the nod you give fuels her, curling her fingers against plushy, damp walls that make her moan into your ear. she’s trying so hard to keep her eyes open, nuzzling into your shivering frame to feel the friction. “hmm, come on princess.” the nickname is stuttered on, quiet and vulnerable just like the thick atmosphere.
your hips stutter on hers, clenching her fingers with your excitement. weak, shaky breaths make her body throb with every exhale.
with her aim to please, she finds herself getting carried away. her fingers move faster at a pace that makes you choke out a groan and slam a palm over her hand.
“s—s-slow down,” you mutter, pushing her hand away with only a weak force, easily dominated by her fingers taking over once again. they scoop yours up, swatting them away before the blonde kisses your jaw.
“okay, okay. don’t touch, not yet,” she stumbles over your words while kisses pamper your shoulder. “don’t get in your own way,” she pants, biting the inside of her cheek from the feeling of your hips rolling against hers. she interprets your silence as frustration; the second your fingers clasped behind her neck, she melted into you.
her middle and ring fingers continue to curl inside of you, pulling her other arm from underneath you to anchor herself on her side. the analyst fishes for kisses, face nudging yours to face hers with a quickening pace in her hand.
she can feel the tightening of your cunt around her smooth fingers, small squelching noises filling the quiet air. the small whine of her name makes her smile over the apple of your cheek, nodding. “pretty girl,” she mutters like it’s her in your position. “wanna touch yourself for me? play with your clit for me? please baby?” she begs, the tip of her nose burying in your flesh. “i wanna see you do that thing I like. do you have it in you?” pale eyes peer over the natural hills of your skin to catch your shy fingers fondle with the bud above her active movement. grace swears she’s fallen in love all over again.
being with grace long enough, you’ve come to learn new things about your body. grace’s undercover talent of making you spill all over her sheets is rarely ever neglected, especially on nights like these where wearing your body out is the only way to catch a wink of sleep. “mmhmm,” you coo. with your team effort, she knows you’ll be slipping in her arms very soon.
your fingertips roll over yourself with a familiar motion. old faithful. the lust that lives in you makes you hotter, gripping onto your girlfriends neck tighter— only readjusting. she sees how desperate you are. how much you ache for it. the tears from your yawns make her keep down a giggle. “you do?” her question wasn’t seeking an answer, not when she seals your lips in between hers hungrily.
grace swallows the whines you croak down her throat. she doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t stop her fingers. in fact, she goes harder with her digits curling with care. the woman nods, encouraging you to keep going right along with her. her tongue cradles yours. with all of the devotion she has, you’d think she was fighting sleep herself. on the contrary, she’s exhausted, but… priorities.
the hunger in your kiss weakens, trembling around your girlfriend the closer you get. in her mind, you can barely keep it together. it fuels her. you’ve given up on her kiss, lips parted as you seek for air. grace doesn’t blame you. in fact, she opts to study you and dress you in kisses, feeling you get closer.
she’s there with you through it all. your trembling fingers, shallow breath, eager moans (swears), clammy body. grace doesn’t stop at all, not even for a moment. she’s even there when you finally start leaking over her fingers, soon spilling over her sheets with each pump she pushes into you.
your body tries to cling to its climax, seizing and jerking in pleasure. and as you do, grace braces you by keeping your leg open with her arm latched around your thigh. “oh, look at you,” she eggs on, kissing the top of your head. it’s only when your body finally begins to calm down, she exits you only to prop you firm against her chest.
your sighs are like a lullaby to the sleepy woman, choosing to cradle your body in her arms. “how are you feeling?” she quizzes, “tired yet?”
you nod.
“you did so good,” coming from her, you could turn into mush, but you turn to rest your head on her bosom instead.
“i ruined the sheets… i'm not sleeping in wet sheets.” that realization makes tired, mossy-stone colored eyes rip back open.
“right—" grace chuckles, “okay. let’s get you all cleaned up then? i can handle the sheets and maybe we’ll make it through the night.”
“thank you, baby." you steal a quick kiss from her, "i’ll sleep so good.”
You walk down the dimly lit corridor in the newly renovated apartment building. The new crimson red carpet beneath your feet is now a quiet reminder of someone you once knew, someone you would look up to greatly. She was one of the most courageous women you'd met in your whole 25 years of living and you now know not to take anyone or anything for granted, they can be taken away from you in a blink of an eye. You hope that this carpet isn’t a reminder of the older woman for your friend to have to walk over every morning and night she comes to and from work. You daren't say that to her either, the thoughts in your head can sometimes be very loud but eventually you come to a stop at the freshly glossed white door in front of you and before you even get the chance to knock the door it swung open pretty quickly and it took you out of your thoughts, the quick brisk of air that hit you and the way your friend looked at you made you clear your throat. She was so effortlessly beautiful and it makes you take a deep breath as she grabs your hand and practically yanks you into her apartment and shuts the door and locks it in one brisk motion.
“Grace what the-”
“S-sorry.. I- i was watching the street outside and saw you coming so- i, i was looking through the peep hole. I- uhm.. I didn't mean to startle you”
She wasted no time interrupting you but boy was it adorable that she was waiting for you. Although you notice the quietness, the usual chatter and music from the radio is gone and you glance toward the shelf and someone's shoes and backpack are missing.
“It’s alright, dont apologise.. But where's Emily? I thought we were going to arts and crafts like every other Friday? I even brought my best Elmers glue and colouring pens” You lightly tilt your head in confusion and even in the process of speaking you pulled your backpack around to your side and hugged it slightly, indicating you’d prepared for Emily to be here. Grace frowned slightly and pulled her phone from her pocket and once again, the rambling began..
“I uh, I thought I texted about that.. I thought, h-hold on” She is frantically on her phone but it gives you enough time to put your backpack down and wander closer to her, lightly touching her wrist to get her attention and you try to reel her back to you gently.
“Grace, look at me.. Please” Her eyes took a moment but eventually she looked at you and you could see and feel her visibly shaking and you kept speaking to keep her from going into complete panic mode “Thats it.. Now take a deep breath for me.. In, and out” She listens and eventually you’re holding both of her hands and doing the deep breaths with her, it's been hard for Grace over the last 2 years. The smallest of things can set her off but she had gotten better control over it so you were taken aback by this right now. You’d nursed her back slowly to somewhat of a normal life but also with help from Leon and her regular phone calls with him and his wife Claire, which is where you assume Emily is right now. After a few deep breaths and guiding grace to the couch she seemed to regulate herself and she gently let go of your hands although part of you wished she didn't.
“Sorry” Grace hummed quietly and you only just heard her and immediately you shake your head and sigh gently. Her eyes dropped to her lap and she fiddled with her fingers.
“You have nothing to be sorry about Grace, it’s alright.. I promise” your words came from a place of love and comfort, the way her eyes slowly met yours again and slightly you nudged yourself closer and your shoulders lightly bump together.
“So.. where is miss Emily?”
Hoping that diverting the conversation somewhere else will help her some more and immediately you feel her shoulders loosen before she slumps back into the couch and your physical touch is gone once again, you take a soft breath and nod your head when Grace confirms your thoughts from earlier. She was indeed with Leon and Claire having a sleepover because she missed them.
Grace can’t seem to keep her eyes off of you which in itself is very out of the ordinary and it seems that something was on her mind, the pensive look on her face said something to you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. She wasn’t usually this quiet even from earlier when she yanked you into her apartment. It felt slightly different to other interactions you’d both had for the last 10 years. You’d met Grace when she was only 14, and you were 15. School was something neither of you really enjoyed but noticed how Grace always seemed out of place and you somehow convinced the quiet shy girl who sat on her own with her laptop in the corner of any room she was in to be your friend. It was a shame that Grace only stuck around for a year during that time but she moved ALOT because of her mothers work but you kept in touch, trying to see one another as much as possible but it was hard and then after her mom died, you hardly heard from her until you ended up as her FBI victim specialist therapist, a small world but after much deliberation she changed therapists within the VSU so you and her could actually bond again, naturally and slowly, now both 24 and 25 you’ve got a great friendship. You’ve been helping Emily with the transition to a normal life and her new found confidence in being able to see everything all over again. Grace was always thankful for that but for you it helped keep some normality between the two of you. The last 2 years have been a lot of ups and downs but overall you’re glad Grace is back in your life. You just hope that she feels the same way.
You’re ripped from your thoughts when you hear her voice, she’d been staring at you undoubtedly since you’d zoned out with these thoughts.
“I- I need to tell you something an-and you need to be quiet when I do..” Grace cleared her throat and you slowly settled yourself back onto the couch but that only made Grace slightly shift in her spot and you furrow your brows, you can’t even begin to fathom what she wants to tell you and to not speak at all. You adjust the tight white buttoned shirt against your curvy body and your collar falls further apart which inevitably reveals the top of your chest more which you catch Graces eyes drop to, you were sure of it in the moment but she’s quick to divert her eyes and then clear her throat again before you’re focused on her. It’s making Grace nervous, she looks everywhere but you and starts to talk, it’s slow but she’s careful with what she’s saying…
“So uhm.. Emily, not being here wasn’t planned until, yesterday and I.. I thought I’d told you that yesterday through text and I’m sorry because I didn’t want you to not turn up. I wanted you to come, uhm Come over.. even if Emily wasn’t here..” Graces cheeks were flushed pink, you could see the colour rising in them as she spoke and now your mind is filled with so many different scenarios in what she is actually trying to say but you kept quiet, just nodding in hopes she can see you doing so even if she’s not looking your general direction.
“I enjoy your company a lot.. and I’m glad that I have you in my life. I- I can’t imagine it without you.. not now” Grace finally looks to you, eyes meeting yours and you could feel your heart in your throat, this would be the first time she’s told you this, it’s new information, like you’ve been drugged by her new found confidence to tell you something that clearly means a lot to her. It probably took all of her energy to do that, it’s definitely not like before. It’s refreshing but also very much needed as you felt like you could tell her how you feel about her. It's definitely not feeling as cryptic anymore and like she’s waiting for you to initiate something? Or maybe what you’re about to do is the worst decision you’ve made in your life.
“Grace…I can’t imagine my life without you either” you barely even heard yourself say it, you’d be surprised if she heard you but she definitely did. You could hear a pin drop from the silence between the two of you. You hesitate for just a moment and look at her hand on her thigh, your hand can’t control itself as it slowly pulls Grace's hand to yours. It’s gentle and her fingers lightly dance around for a small moment. Maybe just the nerves but sure enough as you lift your head back up, she is watching your fingers with hers. That tiny little smile that started to curve on her lips was just enough to make you wet yours ever so slightly. After your fingers were intertwined Grace did something you’d least expect and slowly looked to you, giving you gentle pleading eyes. Something you’d never seen, not in this context .. the one time you’d seen that look was when she begged you to stop making her jump, even if it wasn’t intentional. Definitely more confirmation on her part even if she didn’t realise she was doing that.
“Come here…” you whimpered unintentionally, it was pathetic and needy of you but you’d exhaled a breath as you said it. Your body shifts to slightly sit up but reach your free hand to one of Grace's belt loops of her jeans and as if she knew where you wanted her she followed your lead as you bring her to sit on your lap, her legs now either side, straddling with knees digging into the couch either side of you whilst you take in the view of her on top of you. Something you’d imagined for a long time. Your fingers pull from her jeans as her hair falls into her face but you quickly brush it away and tuck it perfectly behind her ear. Your hand slowly sinking to the back of her head and massaging her scalp lightly, her soft platinum blonde hair curling around your fingertips ever so slightly. Graces cheeks stayed that bashful pink and she was breathing heavily, you glance at her chest but not before she sunk into your body. Her head nuzzled into your neck and immediately felt her warm breath tickle your skin.
“P-please..” it’s gentle but you heard her, wondering how she managed to wrap you around her whole existence and make you feel like putty in her hand. You wanted to have her in all her glory but want to soak every inch of her body and soul. Your grip on her hair tightened which granted you a little whimper from graces lips, she tried to bury her warm face against your neck, her thin black rimmed glasses digging into your skin but you had another idea, lightly pulling at her hair to bring her face to face with you, seeing the neediest look of beauty washed all over her face, her glasses lightly fogged. You couldn’t wait any longer before letting your hand loosen and Grace happily leans down as you bring your face to hers to close the gap. The second your lips brush against hers there’s a little sigh of relief from the two of you, her lips taste like vanilla chapstick and god they were all you could’ve dreamt of. Grace only moved her lips when you did, you slightly tilt your head to the side and she’s following your lead but catch her in surprise when you pull away and she tries to follow your lips, making you smirk lightly as you whisper “easy now… you’ve no idea how long I’ve waited for this” which now only confesses to her how you’ve felt in words, rather than just physically. You felt one of Grace's hands go to your side, your shirt tight to your sides but she grips the flesh of your curves and confesses back to you with no hesitation, no stutter. Just pure innocence. “I’ve waited a while for you..” you felt the heat rising in your face but to not make it obvious you gently pull Grace back in for another kiss, this one felt more real and less like a fever dream like the first one. It made your stomach fill with heat, it bubbled slowly as your lips danced with hers, the slow pace and gentle flow of carefulness between you earned a small sigh of satisfaction from the woman you’d longed for. Your ears are burning hot from those noises and eventually you risk losing her lips, wanting to taste her ivory porcelain like skin. Trailing light kisses to her neck which made Grace push her body even closer to you. Her sighs shifted to a gentle tone of gasps, light and needy. Her lower abdomen dug into you as hard as she could’ve imagined. Your free hand sank to her lower back and helped by sinking your hand slightly into the back of her jeans and held her close, she tensed but you broke the light touches to her neck and looked to the needy woman on top of you. Your eyes were locked to hers but quickly Grace closed her eyes and gently settled her forehead against yours. She needed you. You wanted her.
“Fuck..” your head turns to mush, Graces brain short circuited hearing you saying that and her grip on your waist loosened but not before she whimpered pathetically at the thoughts running through her head. You’d never know what she thought because not a moment later she slowly adjusted herself on you, her hips starting to roll in a struggling aching rhythm, letting your lips slip out a breathy moan and something in you couldn’t take it anymore. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever been with someone, Grace probably knew that and she felt the same for sure. You’d both wanted this for the longest time.
Your hands shift swiftly and you scoop her upright, her legs effortlessly wrap around your body as you get up from the couch. Your hands dug into the inside of her jeans so you could feel the warmth of her underwear against your fingertips. Grace did let out a small little yelp of excitement but was laced with dripping whimpers and ecstasy. You’d take the same path toward grace’s bedroom many times, drunk.. half asleep, in the dark. So doing this without seeing at all bc of her in your arms and your face practically buried against her shoulder was easy.
You get through the threshold of her room and feeling the touches of her fingertips grazing and pulling at your tucked shirt only made you more eager. Hungry for her. You don’t let Grace go until she’s on the bed, her head inches from the pillows where she'd rest every night and you’re hovering over her. “Holy shit” you mumble, Grace's fingers made their way under your shirt and her nails grazed up your back, her puppy dog eyes felt so innocent but you knew there was a side of her buried inside you wanted to get out. You lean down, one arm holding you up and the other lightly grazed across her jaw. Your lips connect again and just as you’re going to grip by her neck you feel one of her hands push around to your chest and push you to break the kiss. “N-no.. not yet-”you’re worried that doing that has cost you your chance but she guides your hand to her chest and as you grip with her guidance she rolls the two of you over. “It’s your turn first” Her voice was breathy and silky. Your legs are either side of her and it takes you by surprise but it gives your body a rush of adrenaline that you didn’t know you needed. This is the side of her that she was hiding and now you get to witness it first hand. Grace proceeds to yank her glasses from her face and drops them at the edge of the bed, they’d inevitably fall off you’re sure. She has this burst of confidence but soon you see her eyes shift to your chest and your free hand hooks around a belt loop again, pulling her hips against yours. Rewarding you with a closed eyed and blissful expression and the stutter returned to her after this one act “m-my god” it’s so attractive and only intensified your urges.
“Baby…” you test the waters and her fingers work on your shirt, seeing her bite on her bottom lip. Quietening her moan but you caught it, the buttons on your shirt being undone and your chest is now on show. Your somewhat warm beige skin makes your black bra stand out and she hums, waiting for your voice once more. “ I need you…” it was oh so very needy. Practically begging her to do whatever she wanted to you but could you blame yourself? It only prompted Grace to join you with her shirt being off. She pulled it off over her head, her hair slightly messed up but fuck. You couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful she was. This made you want her even more but she took you out of your thoughts when she spoke.
“Oh- mhm.... I- I want to take you all in..” Grace cooed softly and soon enough you let out a low moan, her lips sunk to your fleshy chest, your hand escaping its grasp from her jeans and it fell perfectly into her wavy hair and gripped slightly. You don’t know how much more your body could take, you could feel how hot you were between your legs and you couldn’t let this make you finish so quickly. Her tongue slowly drags toward the valley of your chest and her other hand wriggled behind to unhook your bra, with your help you practically rip it from your body and take a self conscious breath. It releases shakily but her lips part lightly, her voice slightly laced with ecstasy “you’re so gorgeous” your eyes close and before you can react Grace's lips brush to your nipple and her mouth closes around it. Your fingers tighten in her hair and you close your legs against hers so she knows the effect you’re having on her, a breathy moan doesn’t fail this time as it comes out of you.. her tongue works wonders as your nipple hardens within seconds and her other hand worked on massaging your other one. You slightly arch your back and started to feel the pool between your legs, you were aching and it was hard to focus.. your mind is going crazy.
The time Grace spent on each breast and nipple was just enough for the heat between you to be everywhere, the fiery feeling was mutual. Grace wanted to give you all the pleasure she could give. She imagined this moment thousands of times. Grace sucked and pulled, nurturing your chest as much as she desired before knowing where she wanted to be. She slowly snaked down your body. Your shirt discarded on the floor with your bra, her hands sunk to your loose mom jeans. It felt forever but now unbuttoned you lifted your hips and she slipped them off but not before she noticed the large wet patch on your underwear. Practically soaked to the touch and she licked her lips. You saw her reaction, eyes slightly wider than usual but quickly the nerves left her eyes and she sunk between your legs.
Grace looked up at you, her eyes on yours and this was the most perfect angle. One you’d not ever forget, she started to kiss the inner parts of your thighs, brushing her hands up the inside and the tips of her thumbs sliding inches from the sides of your underwear. The light buck of your hips was enough to keep Grace aware, taking a second to just adjust herself your voice rings in her ears.
“Please baby…”
Grace felt her cheeks burn, she loved that you were calling her baby. She longed for that a lot and even earlier she was bubbling on the inside. Her stomach burning, she could easily cum to your moans if you kept it up like this. She never thought of you as a begging mess but she loved this side to you. It gave her this confidence she needed in her. She wouldn’t make you wait a second longer. She took one of her hands and with a light brush, her thumb stroked up against your wet patch. Her thumb slowly circled around your aching clit and you tried to keep your cool but it was so difficult to do so.
“Is this- good...” Grace asked you which was adorable and as she did, it caused you to push your hips down into the bed, you mumble “yeah baby.. right there” quickly a high pitched gasp escaped you and you soon relaxed and started to feel your hips roll at the touch of Grace’s thumb, her fingers soon joined but not before the fabric was pushed to the side.
Grace brushed two of her fingers down all the way to your entrance. Her thumb continued the circular motions on your clit, as soon as her fingers slipped inside of you you made the loudest, most slutiest moan you’d ever made. It was throaty but it earned a satisfying jolt from your body. Grace never heard such a noise, absolute joy coarse through her and felt accomplished with how she was handling you.. she did check in with you again, her voice gentle, her fingers deep inside of you but earning kisses to your stomach as you reassured her that you’re okay. Her fingers start to thrust in and out of you and her words of encouragement only helped, she realised you liked that, and they didn’t stop.
“You’re taking my fingers so well” Grace's tone was velvety, her confidence now through the roof as you were all hers. You had become so relaxed and in the moment nothing else mattered. You felt the light beads of sweat drag on your skin, your free hand snaked into the covers beside you and your grip turned your knuckles white as you could feel yourself slipping into a lustful haze. Grace watched you closely, the way your body reacted to her touch and her words. The ache between her legs was getting more intense by the second and wanted you to touch her so badly but not before she finished with you.
She took a bold move and sunk further down, the pad of her thumb releasing from your clit which made you whine, missing it already and you whimper like a fool “baby.. fuck, mm I was so close..” Grace only reacted the way she thought best, her fingers became slow and deep, wanting to keep you like this just a few minutes longer. Her tongue then swiftly dragged up and over your clit, it’s so swollen and god she already loved how you tasted. Your hungry ache that came out of your throat wasn’t as loud but she felt the vibration through your body. “You taste so fucking good” she hummed, earning your attention as you tried to look down at her, wanting this view forever but the overwhelming urge ripping through you couldn’t do it, your eyes closed to feel Grace just eat you delicately, deliberately swirling around your clit and kissing your folds. It took some long slow thrusts of her fingers along with slow sucking and gentle licking and you were finished. “Fuck.. mhfp” you whimpered, ultimately coating graces lips with your cum and you felt her lap you up and all of a sudden you felt this wave of shyness wash over you. Which somewhat surprises you, Grace lightly kisses your clit, her fingers leaving you and you still feel very sensitive, your eyes stay closed but grace crawls up to you. Your hands slowly snaked around her half clothed body after you felt her lips kissing up your naked body and gently cuddled into you, her lips kissing up to yours as you tasted yourself.
“Did I do good?” Grace mumbles against your lips, her seeking validation is very endearing and you just lightly nod your head, humming into the kiss as your ‘yes’. You pull from the kiss and are very out of breath, trying to catch yourself and calm your breathing. “You were amazing”
“I think.. w-we should do this again” her head buried into your neck and your fingers lightly graze up and down her back.
When you walked through the door of your apartment, you didn’t expect Grace to trample you. She immediately ran to you when she heard the door open and pulled you into a kiss. Being caught off guard, you drop your bag on the floor and stumble backwards until your back hits the closed door.
“Hello to you too…” You murmur in between the kisses.
“I missed you,” Grace whispered, and the moment your lips parted, she slipped her tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan quietly.
Grace did not often show this type of intimacy. She was one who was quieter with it. Slow kisses or always touching your hand when doing simple tasks, but now, she was desperately trying to make any physical contact with you. In her defense, you had been gone for the past few days on a work trip where you didn't have good cell phone service to get in contact with her.
You let your hands slip into her blond hair to pull her closer, but you break out of your daze when you begin to feel Grace fumbling with the buttons on your shirt.
“Hey, hey…” You pulled back from the kiss and caught her hands in yours. She immediately froze, cheeks heating in embarrassment.
“S-sorry! I can stop–” She started, eyes darting around the room to avoid eye contact.
“It's not that– We've never done… more than this before, and I don't want to rush you,” You cut Grace off. The farthest the two of you had reached was heavy makeout sessions like this one, but Grace never did anything more than that.
“I want to…” Grace whispered, nervously biting the side of her lip. “With you,” She added, finally locking eyes with you.
Of course, you had been wanting to do it with Grace for a while, but you rarely brought it up because you didn't want to pressure her in any way.
“Are you sure?” You questioned, and Grace nodded. Giving you the chance, you sure as hell didn't want to mess it up, and you needed to make it perfect and comfortable for her, meaning against the rough door wouldn't work…
You slip your hands under Grace's thighs and lift her up. She lets out a surprised gasp, wrapping her legs around your waist, but lets you carry her without an argument.
You bring her to your shared bedroom and gently lower her down on top of the mattress. You took a moment to take in Grace, who was looking up at you with a soft expression, before slowly climbing on top of her.
“We go slow, and you promise me you'll say anything if I hurt you or if it gets too much…” You murmured, brushing Grace’s hair out of her face with your fingers.
“I– I will…” Grace replied. You truly wanted to take your time with her. You believed intimacy was the most vulnerable thing two people could do, and it shouldn't be rushed.
You start by lowering your head to her neck and pressing a kiss against the side of it. As you hear her breath hitch, you begin to lightly nip against the skin.
“I don't have any high-collared shirts to hide these marks…” Grace said, though she made no effort to stop you.
“That's okay… just enjoy it,” You responded, sucking her skin until you pulled back and noticed the faint red mark you left.
“I– I can't just sit here and do nothing–” Grace began, squirming slightly as you start sucking on a sensitive spot near her collarbone.
“Stop whining and let me make you feel good. Your pretty self sitting right here is enough for me…” Grace's cheeks heat with a bright red flush at your words, but you don't notice as you continue kissing the spot on her collarbone.
“Is this your first time?” Grace questioned as you finally pulled back from her. You shake your head at her.
“No, I've done it before, but it's been years.” You give her a vague response. You didn't want to dwell on the past when Grace was right there at your disposal. “Can I?” You ask after a few moments, your hands holding onto the bottom of Grace's shirt.
“Yes…” She responded, and you pulled her shirt over her head. Grace was now left in a thin, white, lace bra, leaving you speechless.
“You wear this just for me?” You ask, your voice coming up a little short. Grace nods, and you take a deep breath. “You naughty girl…” You whisper, causing her to quietly whimper.
As you press a slow kiss against the top of each of her breasts, it sparks something in Grace as she attempts to take off your shirt again. You comply this time, helping her with the buttons before throwing your shirt onto the floor. Grace stares at your chest with her lips slightly parted, making a smirk tug at the end of your lips.
You waited until her eyes finally locked back onto your face where Grace gently grabbed one of your hands, pulling it down to the waistband of her shorts. She looked at you with a pleading expression, her pupils slightly dilated.
“Use your words, baby.” You finally break the silence, and you hear the quiet groan roll off of Grace's lips.
“N–Need you… to touch me–” Grace whined, her chest already rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Good girl… so needy, hm?” You praise as Grace lifts her hips, allowing you to tug off her shorts and throw them with the other discarded clothing on the floor.
You felt your breath catch in your throat as you saw Grace's arousal completely soaking through her underwear. You had never seen her wet like this before, and it made a gear inside of you turn. Seeing you shocked, Grace felt compelled to apologize. For what exactly? She didn’t know for sure.
“I’m sorry–” She started, but ended as a moan when she felt two of your fingers rub slowly against her clit through the cloth of her underwear. Her hips involuntarily buck against your hand, and she tries to pull off her underwear as you continue teasing her.
“Shh…” You whisper at her impatience, but pull the thin fabric down her legs. “Are you okay?” You ask to check in while your fingers trace the inside of her thighs. You could feel the slight shake of her legs from nervousness.
“I won’t be if you keep teasing me like this…” She breathlessly replies. Catching her off guard, you slip a finger inside of her. She lets out a loud moan, but you catch it and muffle it with a kiss. She felt tight as you attempted to move your finger around her walls.
“Doing so good for me, baby…” You praise as Grace kept letting out small groans. You eventually hook a second finger inside her, and Grace falters, digging her nails into your bare arm. You move your free hand from her hip to one of her hands, interlocking your fingers with her and allowing her to claw at your hand instead.
You start to slowly pump your fingers inside of her, trying to find a rhythm as she squeezes your hand tighter. Grace was a disheveled mess, and you loved it. Her face was a bright red, her hair frizzy, and you could see her cheeks glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
“You like that?” You ask when you hit a spot, and Grace loudly moans. You could feel her starting to tighten up as you kept moving your fingers in between her folds. She could barely speak, only letting out groans of pleasure in response.
Suddenly, you feel Grace’s body tense, and you freeze your fingers. You look up at her face, where she seemed out of it.
“Hey… you alright?” You questioned, your other hand still holding Grace’s. She nods slowly, but you notice the shift in her breathing.
“S–shit, I’m close…” Grace mumbles, and before you could respond, Grace breaks. You help her ride out her orgasm, keeping your fingers inside of her while whispering praises.
“There you go… My pretty girl… So soft and warm…” Grace whimpers out your name as she finishes, and you slowly pull your fingers out of her. She quietly whines, and you see her cum coating your fingers. You lick them, causing Grace to blush and stare at you wide-eyed. “You taste so sweet…” You tell her with a grin.
You lean over and grab a small towel from the bedside table and gently clean Grace up.
“What about you?” Grace questioned after a few moments. She wanted to make you feel good too, though she didn't know how.
“Don't worry about me–” Before you could finish your sentence, Grace pulled you into another clumsy kiss, and you let out a surprised gasp. You didn't even realize Grace's hand had begun to move down your stomach and into your underwear.
“Can I…?” She asked, and you nodded, her lips remaining on yours. She started to rub your clit and you felt your back arch slightly into her. She clearly knew what she was doing…
“Fuck– baby. Do you touch yourself like this?” You questioned in between messy kisses. Grace froze in embarrassment, and you whimpered pathetically as she stopped rubbing your clit.
“I– No!” Grace quickly defended herself, but it was an evident lie.
“Shit, I don't care, please don't stop,” You groan out, pulling Grace into another kiss. This time, you slip your tongue into her mouth as her fingers begin to speed up and apply more pressure.
Before you could warn Grace, you feel yourself reach your climax and cum on top of her hand. Your chest was heaving as Grace pulled her hand back.
“You did so good, baby,” You murmured, planting a small kiss on her lips. She was falling victim to all your praise, and it had her wrapped around your finger.
“I–I love you!” She blurted out, but quickly looked away in embarrassment. You frowned slightly, grabbing her chin and turning her face towards you.
“Don't be embarrassed… I love you too,” You respond, rubbing your thumb along her jaw. “Now, c'mere.” You grab her hand and pull her down on the bed beside you. Grace immediately lays her head against your shoulder, still holding your hand. She was exhausted and fucked out. The next time you looked at her, she was already fast asleep in your arms.
A/N: This fic took an embarrassingly long time to write as most of the time was spent staring at my laptop and rewriting different parts various times. That being said, I hope you find this decently good as I just needed to get it out as I am down bad for grace and currently ovulating!
Synopsis: You get handsy with Grace after she picks you up from a night out.
CW/Tags: Smut. 18 + only. Minors DNI. Scissoring.
"Stop, I-I need to focus," Grace stammered as your lips trailed along the side of her neck. She'd never let your hands beneath her clothes outside of the apartment, but you couldn't stay away from her. All you wanted was to feel Grace's body against yours. It was something you felt like you needed constantly, not just because of the shots you had taken while on a night out with your friends.
"Gracie, hurry," you whined. Grace's ears went pink at the tone of your voice. It was the same tone that you used when you needed more of her. Grace knew from the moment she picked up the phone that the two of you would end up in bed together, but she didn't understand how you had worked yourself up so much already.
"Be patient for me, okay? It's hard to focus when you get like this," Grace told you. You briefly backed away, but the second she started to twist the doorknob the facade ended. You threw all of your restraint out the window and practically shoved her inside with haste. "Y/n!"
"Sorry, I'm sorry," you apologized. You kicked the door shut behind you as the two of you stumbled through the threshold of Grace's apartment. You shed your clothes on the way to her bedroom, a small mess Grace would be sure to pick up before you woke up in the morning. She would have grabbed them on the way, but you were seemingly seconds away from just getting yourself off and Grace wouldn't have that.
She wasn't good at being outspoken about things like her feelings, not like you were. Grace would sit and suffer with her arousal long before she spoke up and asked you to take care of it. Even now, she waited for you to start tugging at her clothes despite the uncomfortable heat of them rubbing against her skin.
"I like it when you look at me all pretty like that." You had Grace pinned to the bed, not that she had any intention of moving. Not when she could feel the heat of your arousal directly against her skin. "I love you Gracie."
"I love you too," Grace muttered. She never stuttered or stammered through those words. She might not always have the loudest voice, but she was always fairly confident in telling you that. The thought of you believing for a second she was unsure of her love terrified Grace because she didn't know what would happen if you left her.
"Can you feel that Grace?" you asked with a roll of your hips. Grace's breath caught in her throat at the way your thigh caught her perfectly. Any ability to speak was completely gone the second she met your eyes. "I can feel you, and you're soaked Gracie."
The nickname was teasing, but you were all business as you hiked her leg over your shoulder for easier access. You knew the perfect angle to make sure Grace felt everything. Sometimes, it was easier this way. You could watch Grace indirectly, which gave her the freedom to let go without the anxiety that came with being watched.
Her eyes rolled back as you caught her clit, the pressure and friction close to being what she could handle. Touching Grace was your favorite thing in the world, and grinding against her like this let you get even closer. Grace's hips lifted up off the bed as she tried to chase after the feeling of your skin against hers. You tried to be careful and prolong things, but Grace wasn't having any of it.
"I can't - ah! - p-please." Grace's voice was all breath. Her fingers dug into your hips to hold you still for a moment, using more strength than you would have assumed Grace had. You could feel the bruises forming as she started to let up her grip, body slack beneath yours as a gush of wetness covered your cunt.
Grace placed her hand in between your bodies, aware that you weren't as close as she had been. You switched the angle of your hips slightly to grind against her fingers instead of Grace's cunt. You cupped her cheeks in your hands and pressed a very messy kiss to her lips. In your slightly tipsy state, your orgasm hit you almost out of nowhere. You felt like you had been knocked off guard, but Grace held and supported you as you eased yourself down against her fingers.
"You're so good to me Gracie," you mumbled as you trapped her beneath your body. Grace wrapped her arms around your waist and nuzzled her face against your neck. "You should grab me like that more, it was hot."
"It was an accident," Grace spoke so quietly you almost missed it. A year together seemed to be enough time for you to learn what to listen for in the quieter moments like this. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"You? Never, so don't even worry about it," you told her. Grace seemed to accept that, well aware that you had no issues setting your boundaries loud and clear.
▹ Grace Ashcroft x f!coworker!reader
▹ Summary: When Grace returns from a mission she never should have been sent on, the new intern gathers the courage to approach her.
▹ First-person pov, short and sweet, fluff(???), no spoilers i think just mentioning her coming back from the mission
▹ Word Count: 0.4k
"Hi, Grace. Maybe you forgot about me, I'm the new visual content editor from last week. I just want to say I'm really glad you safely survived that goddamn absurd mission. Dempsey was one hell of a guy to sent you there, oh god must be horrible for you."
I finally forced myself to approach Grace as she stepped out of Dempsey's office. By now the whole building had already heard about her mission. How could they not? Grace was an intelligence analyst. She worked behind screens and reports, not in the field like top-trained agents. And yet somehow she had been the one facing those things? Killing monsters, are you kidding me?
"I didn't forget about you... and-uh thanks. I genuinely appreciate that." Grace smiled, head tilting a bit to the side.
My lips also formed a smile.
"Wishing a fast recovery for the injuries that you got."
"Oh, this? This was actually from my cat. Ugh, she couldn't wait for me to put down her food bowl and climbed up to me, dangling over my shirt—"
I could listen to her all day.
"—and this was also from my other cat, I just tried to pet him then he hissed at me and scratched me?! Unbelievable."
"Couldn't relate. I, on the other hand, have these three little angels waiting for me at home." I said while showing Grace a picture of my puppies from my phone.
I don't know if this is the right time to bring up her mission, even though I'm curious as hell. But no, not after everything she's been through. Not when the memory of it might still hurt. What if bringing it up only drags her back to everything she went through? I just want her to know I'm always here for her. Maybe we can talk about it later. For now, I'll let time do what it does best, heal the wounds she shouldn't have had to carry alone.
"Oh, aw, they're the cutest puppies I've ever seen." Grace stepped closer to me, holding my phone so she could see the picture better. Our hands touched for a moment, a rush of warmth spread through me.
"I know right?"
Her phone buzzed. It was a call.
"So sorry-uh, but I need to take this. Really enjoyed talking to you."
Grace glanced at the screen, then walked away from me about to answer it.
I nodded. After a moment of hesitation, I called out to her, already a few steps away.
“Let me treat you to coffee sometime, Grace!” Then waiting for her response nervously.
the room is silent. the air is still. GRACE can hear a pin drop– and you’re right there beside her. observing.
grace’s pulse starts in her ears, radiating along her face and rolling down her entire body. her eyes flicker over your lying frame, not knowing where to focus. there’s never a time you don’t take this woman’s breath away. your stare is weighted, plighted with an emotion that she is still trying to navigate. she doesn't try to name it and neither do you. silence. there’s a flinch you feel from her when your finger tips graze through her hair, hearing a breath catch in her throat. it’s as if you both are waiting for the ball to drop the moment the analyst said something you never thought you’d hear:
“i want you to touch me.”
it’s what triggered this staring contest, actually. her request comes in the wee hours of the night after a successful cozy night in. emily’s with the kennedy’s for the weekend and you two needed the alone time. what was supposed to be you helping grace fall back asleep after leaving the bathroom turned into something too hot to relax. a makeout that’s pushing towards something more makes her freeze, asking you for space. you know what her nerves are telling her. this night has happened before. more than once, but more recently, a faded memory about a month ago. you both wanted to take things further, but grace’s thoughts got the best of her, causing her to chicken out. you understand her nervousness, but when you allowed her to take control like she asked for, it left you both in this frigid state that you’ve been wanting to break for a while now... it doesn’t hurt to at least try, right?
the world outside is sleeping, so should the two of you. with the small sounds of bikes on the pavement and the occasional car, each passerby shifts the woman, her eyes finally making their way back to you for comfort.
“you… still mean it–” your question comes during the storm simmering between you. her swollen lips and quick heart beat has her out of it, wanting nothing more than to kiss you again. you think about what holds her back, but you don’t investigate.
“yes,” her voice cuts you off in a hushed tone, tilting her face in the palm of your hand. she speaks quicker “i just, um,” she breaks, eyes growing wide like she’s a deer in headlights. “i— i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she scoffs trying to push off a nervous chuckle.
her skin vibrates where you linger, breath hitching as your touch falls down her neck to her waist. you shush her, hiding a laugh as she stumbles over a small ‘baby’, lips stuttering against yours. “i want… you,” you start before your tongue leaves a stripe over her bottom lip, taking a kiss.
a hum escapes her; melting into you, hands cupping your cheeks to keep you solid on her face. she notices the confidence radiating off your lips, tension slowly breaking inside her chest. the feeling of your lips meshing with hers, the sloppiness of your kiss and the tips of your noses bumping into each other blinded the rest of her senses so much, she didn’t even feel your hand snake to the curve of her hip. your fingers curl into the band of her shorts, tugging her closer, earning a whine. an actual whine.
“i understand if you’re not ready,” you whisper on the corner of her mouth, breaking your kiss for air. “but i know you want me, too.” wondrous olive toned eyes blow wide in curiosity as if she’s trying to look behind your eyes for any form of deception. she seeks and shifts her eyes all over your face, brows knitting when she can’t decide to trust you. not because you’ve done anything, but because she hasn’t done– anything.
your finger tips electrify her as they run over her womb, nails tickling over the hem of her bottoms. she’s frozen, half in excitement and the other half confused. “h-how do you know?” a weak voice sneaks out against your lips, with the beat of her heart in her ears. the blonde doesn’t know if she wants that to come off like a joke, but by the time she says it, it sounds so much worse.
“you should make sure the person you’ve invited to sleep over is actually asleep before you sneak off to the bathroom.”
you don’t want to tell her up front about the little secret you’ve been holding out from her. more often than not, when she asks you to spend the night. she’s seemingly out of bed in the hours she expects you to be asleep. best bet; if you ever woke up to ask where she’s been, the bathroom is always going to be the safest place to leave. her going to the bathroom in her own home isn’t the problem, it’s what she does in there. and even then you can’t see the issue.
grace blushes, eyes glazing all over your face in horror, dying inside from your smile. it was only a few times… okay– more than a few times where you’ve caught her touching herself behind the bathroom door tucked away in her bedroom in the middle of the night. you know what she’s up to if she’s in there longer than usual. though you could never see her directly, you could hear her. the heavy, quick breaths, the sound of her fingers plunging inside of her at a pace you didn’t even think she could handle? one time you hear the sound of something falling, followed by a quick, “shit!” it didn’t even take her two minutes to leave the bathroom after that. you’re always a roadrunner back to the bed, pretending to fall asleep, face first in your pillow grinning like an idiot.
it was the same routine tonight. you don’t want to admit how the quiet splashes, soft, high pitched breaths turn you on. you hung out at the door frame, imagining her in her skin tight top and loose shorts, thinking of what kind of position she was in as she pleased herself. was she sitting on the edge of the sink? spread on the bathroom floor? standing against the door? too many questions with no answers that you were dying to find out. the longer you stare at her, she notices your pupils blowing wide, sending her into a fit of internalized horror.
she feels as if her body has been thrown into the abyss, skin going pale and her breath going shallow. “what?” she asks like she can’t believe it herself, winded as that typical (and dreaded) feeling encapsulates her. “i um, it’s not like that…” there’s no way this whole time you’ve been present to her late night staycations in the bathroom and it’s not like that. it’s uncomfortable knowing that something vulnerable has been found out. now that you know, she doesn’t know how to process it… but she can’t say she hates it. she just feels exposed.
you’re there in a flash, flipping her over so you sit above her thighs. it doesn’t provoke her. she pays you no mind, rolling her eyes and covering her face in humiliation. both hands cover her view, lip quivering as she pulls in a breath. “i don’t– fuck. you weren't supposed to… know about that.”
as you attempt to rescue her from herself, she feels your grip on her wrists; not to move them, but to anchor yourself as you lean down to get close to her face. “what if i said i liked it?”
grace’s rigid figure softens only a bit– lips pursing tight.
“i know you don’t expect to have a girlfriend and not be able to use her,” you linger your words on her face, dragging them to her ear.
“i don’t want to use you,” she mumbles, trying to calm down under your weight. that sounded too transactional. her love for you is unconditional, so she never tries to ask for things in the very rare chance that you’d believe she’s actually using you. so literal, she is. she could ask you for the moon and you’d attempt to steal it for her.
there’s a silence that waves in the air for a moment, growing stiffer. grace doesn't know what to make of it, but she refuses to move her hands from her eyes. you of course have something up your sleeve; she can feel your bosom pressed down on her body, lips grazing her jaw. “bullshit.”
“i don’t–!” she tries to double down, finally ripping her hands off of her face just to see how close you are. her breath catches, clumsily latching a hand onto your back. “not in a bad way,” her voice trails off into nothing as warm kisses decorate her neck, her other hand grips your waist.
“i want you to,” you quip, smirking. “not in a bad way,” you affirm, “but your thoughts must be fucking filthy to choose digging your fingers in your own cunt instead of letting the woman you asked to come over do it. You may be a virgin but you’re a fucking slut like the rest of them, huh?” her body is riveted by your proximity, but it’s the division between brain and heart. her mind is trying to tell her she’s not ready for something her body is desperately begging to take. your words should upset her, but instead, she shifts her thighs. “fucking pervert.”
grace melts at your kiss, hips rolling into yours instinctively, breath quivering. ‘i’m not a pervert,” she pouts, watching your eyes search for her as you come back up to face her directly. something about the insult drives her though; while she may be wanting to hide her face, she wish she could have shoved her hands between her thighs to prevent the feeling brewing in her body. she feels the pressure building inside of her, trying to hold it together.
“didn’t deny the rest,” grace can’t argue. she notices the softness in your face, swallowing her ego down. “you don’t have to be scared of me,” your voice suddenly draws quiet and warm just to break the intensity heating up the room.
“i want you too. so bad.”
that’s how you get her.
it’s a blur between getting her panties off and you back on top of her, but it happens. and it happens fast. now, she’s gripping the sheets as a leg of hers is swung over your shoulder. the woman pants with a glisten over her flesh, dizzy off of you, rocking your clit into hers. she feels you push her deeper into the bed with each thrust, head lolled back. her palm rests lazily on your hip, “oh my– fuck,” she growls, her other hand pressed into the headboard, tiny hits heard throughout the room. “‘m feels so–” she can hardly finish her sentence, looking down at your cunt putting in work on her body. “fucking good.”
“you like that?” you ask, though the way you’re trapping her leg against your torso, rolling into her, she could ask you the same thing. your body is strong, sweat on your brow and the warmth of your effort blanketing you.
it’s climactic with your brows stitched together, the flesh of your cheek trapped between your teeth. “ngh, yes– yes,” her head falls to the side, shoving a pillow in her face as if to hide. you let her have it. the tenderness of your flesh against hers causes her bud to ache for you, hips dancing with yours over the sheets.
“look at me," you carefully drop her leg to the side, pulling gently at the pillow she’s burrowed her face into to lap her gasp into a kiss.
grace whimpers into your kiss, wrapping her arms around your neck to keep you in, holding you like her favorite stuffed animal. her virginity isn’t typically something she parades. in fact, she’s ashamed of it, but she couldn’t help but to think that having it taken wasn’t something in the cards for her. even after recently becoming a girlfriend for the first time. that was until tonight when you revoked it from her. she smiles into your kiss, breaking it.
feeling a hand cradle the back of her head, she’s prompted to sit up a bit to give you the chance to get comfortable. you're hungry for her, throbbing over her sopping heat, slippery but determined. her pussy kisses yours so eagerly, begging for some sort of relief. “you’re such a fucking dirty girl– holding out on me?” nodding, she rips a kiss from you, building up the courage to take a nip at your bottom lip as she pulls away. “you were thinking about me when you were in there weren’t you?” your question comes out broken but understandable, trembling under your own pace. your question doesn’t stir her now like it would have a few moments ago. it fuels her now, lips parting as if your question was pay per view porn. her head falls back even in your fingers, causing you to grip her neck tighter, jolting it ever so slightly in your hand. “hey, you focus on me,” you coo, quietly.
there’s a pause for you both to catch a breath, staring at the tired expression already littered on her face. she’s flushed pink, eyes glossy but not tear brimmed yet. as you think about cooling it on the teasing, she sighs like she’s bracing for impact. “uh huh,” she gurgles, eyes glued to you. and though your hips slow down and you pause for a second, the walls don’t cave in on her like she thought they would. as she spots your growing smile, her bottom lip is trapped between her bite, smirk rising. “i always think about you,” she slurs out.
she has no idea what she’s doing with her hands, but she touches you. what belongs to her.
goosebumps raise on your arms after that revelation, a shiver running down your spine. “can you say it?” you ask, lifting your body before your hands dip into her waist, grabbing it tightly. “you always think about me when you touch yourself?”
“fuck,” she breathes. grace melts into the mattress with a hand reaching for your hip, "i– uh huh, yeah,” she tries to not live in the embarrassment too long, too timid in her own sexuality to face her past in the middle of an pending orgasm. “everytime.”
the hand that is not resting on your hip is quickly trapped in your palm, bringing it up to your chest. “that’s not enough,” you know why she’s so short, and she knows you know why. it has nothing to do with you being on top of her. she thinks you’re simply being an ass at this point, turning her head to the side. only for you to bend down to look her directly in the eye. your stare intimidates her, but this time she doesn’t back down. your heart races as you stare at her, hoping to crack her shell just a little bit more, but you flush warm when you realize she’s getting tough. instead, back off. nodding, you intend to coax her deeper into the comfortable feeling she’s brewing, “you don’t get to look away from me, no.” you steal a kiss before working your hips on her again at the pace you were at before. “say it, or i don't let you cum. hm?”
with a whine of disapproval, her upper lip quivers. “please, don’t stop.” her body jolts with each thrust you push into her, tits bouncing under a shirt you know she’s not willing to remove. sweat sheens over her flesh, breath shaking in her tummy.
"want me to say it with you?”
she nods.
“every time i fuck myself,” you tempt her.
her eyes veer from you, blush flushing her cheeks red under the cast of the moonlight pouring into the room. “e-every time– fuck– i fuck myself…”
“i’m thinking about you.”
“hmph, i’m a-always thinking about you.” she rushes out, feeling the bottom of her stomach flip, her cunt begging for release, working her hips against yours. “fucking hell, make me cum please.” she hisses a hand reaching and holding onto your hair to keep your face in front of hers. “please? i-i–i’ve been so good, please. please, baby. i wanna cum so bad,” she pouts, the glimmer in her eyes turns to actual tears welling.
you’re stunned as the begging comes on its own, amusing you. but you oblige. you chase the climax with her, throwing your head back as you send her body deep into the duvet with your hands. though her body trembles and jumps with each stroke, she’s quick to grab the neckline of her top, biting down hard on it as her breath goes ragged. there’s nothing between the both of you that needs to be said.
a tight feeling swells inside of her, hips stuttering as she chases down her orgasm under you. her hips roll into yours now, being able to pull a groan from you. your eyes study her finally teary gaze looking back up at you with the prettiest doe eyes. a brow of yours lifts, as if to ask her if she’s almost at her peak (like you aren’t right there with her). with the knitted brows and the drool dampening her shirt, she nods as a hand reaches out for your hips to motivate them to keep going.
the look is so erotic, it rips an orgasm from you earlier than you’d like. but she’s not far behind. grace is loud; growling out a series of moans that cause her to hide her face in her free arm, a small tear rolling down her cheek. her hand digs through the swell of your ass, begging for friction until the climax begins to fade. you on the other hand keep composure, breaths ragged but quieter than the analyst. you both ride one another out of your climaxes, eye glued to one another.
“holy fuck–” grace pants out, looking down at the sticky mess you share, watching your flesh slow down on the mingling. it’s sloppy and wet and just might turn her on again if you don’t get off of her. not that her libido is necessarily that high, but one round is minimum for her time in the bathroom. frankly, you don’t have another round in you tonight.
when you catch your last tired breath, you fall beside her, feeling her cling to you. “you did it,” you chirp, covering your bare lower halves with the duvet you just roughed up. “how do you feel?”
grace doesn't speak. she hardly acknowledges you before her lips are slammed into yours. seems like you got your answer. grace on the other hand is just ecstatic that she doesn't have to sneak off into the bathroom anymore. maybe next time she’ll just bring you.
Your voice has been ringing in her ears since she’s gotten home. Over small things; Grace is always receptive to conversation with her favorite girl. But since you're whipping up something over the stove, she’s the most involved spectator in history. Grace could eat anything you make and not complain. At this point, she’s just there. She stopped hearing what you said maybe not even a whole five minutes ago. What was supposed to be a sweet evening between the both of you turns into you rambling about something she stopped caring about before the world around her turned red.
“Grace?” you call for her, but she’s silent.
Tired eyes, smudged with mascara violate your body. They rip your clothes off every limb just to see every curve, contour and mark that makes her pick you from a crowd. She doesn’t hear you when you call her again, but she does jump when you spin around with a spatula in your hand. There's a playful threat in your stance. Her eyes blink, clearing her throat and sending you a soft smile.
She’s knelt on one of the stools in the kitchen, (trying) to keep you company. “H-uh?” A look that says ‘I hope I didn’t get caught’ flashes on her eyes and before she can fix it, she catches a smirk on your lips. Her breath catches before she inhales again, clenching her fists in her bent over position, leaning over the counter.
“What did I say?” She can see the flustered look in your eye. Upset is not an emotion she can see on you, so hopefully that means she’s still in the clear. Through her silence, your face falls flat, "I don't know what you’re thinking about Grace, but it must be very serious. I would hate to tell that story all over again.”
Despite the mental fog, she did pick up on some things. Work has been hell for you. In fact, it's all Grace had been (willingly) hearing about all week. “You… were talking about work,” she attempts to shoot in the ballpark. After she watches you turn back around, the red in her eyes begins to falter. The energy radiating off you is something flustered but she can’t pinpoint it.
“You’ve been distracted a lot Grace,” you pose the chance for her to say why, egging on a proper response, “especially recently and you haven’t told me why.” That heat, so warm in her skin, comes back to burn. If she tells you why, it would put her in a position to act. And this act is daring. Still, with not a word from the woman, Grace slowly stands up without you sparing her a glance.
“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes with genuineness that breeds your shoulders falling. It’s as if she can see the smile on your lips without even seeing it. And when her feet bring her close to you, the pulsing in her ears grows louder, but she won’t back down, “there’s been a lot on my mind.”
It comes out more like a question, observant eyes looking for your gaze, hoping you'd turn around. A shaky hand of hers lifts to reach for your jaw, but before Grace can get her hands on you, you see the attempt at affection that stops her dead in her tracks. You say nothing; eyes flicking between her hand and her eyes, but you let her have it. You don’t move it, and as her fingers shakily wrap underneath your face, her breath steadies. Slightly.
“Like what?” Grace’s lips part when you lean into her hold, dropping your task to live in her palm. Through knit brows, her nose guided her face to yours, ghosting her lips over yours. A smile glitches on her mouth before she exhales against your skin, feeling you grip the waist of her top.
“You,” she whispers.
“Nervous?”
“N-no,” the analyst breathes out, even shaking her head in uncertainty. Not uncertain of you, but uncertain of her ability. “I just– shit. I want you.” Her fingers tremble against your face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t listening. Th-there’s something I… wanna do before you tell me.”
This time it’s you who doesn't answer her, instead shaking your head. The touch you give her spare hand shakes the woman, placing it on your hip, feeling Grace wrap her fingers into the band of your pants.
Your lips keep a hungry distance, wanting to mesh but only capable of brushing against each other. You didn’t push for her to move; in fact, you let her have all the power she wants. In your mind, it’s to alleviate the anxiety buzzing in her feet. Green observes you lazily under hooded eyes, hidden behind thick, black framed glasses. Almost as if she’s begging for permission, she holds out for a few seconds. It feels like a break in time before the shift in Grace alters into something darker, dominant. It’s easy to see her swallowing her emotions, decision clear in her mind. She doesn’t need to beg when you look at her so expectantly.
Her tongue dangerously laps a kiss from you, closing the gap.
When you fall into her grip, pushing you into the counter becomes an easy task. “Don’t– don’t move,” Grace mumbles under your ear. There’s a steadiness in her voice that makes your legs go weak. However, a moment later, “please?”
You nod, winded from her kiss. Trapped against the counter, the blonde keeps you upright and against her chest. “Here,” she beckons, shifting your position so you're resting against her body as she’s the one leaning against the countertop– all too close to the stove.
Grace doesn’t care.
She watches your body breathe; up and down the rise and fall of your chest makes her body throb. There was no way in hell that she would try to stop now when she has you right where she wants you. She can feel your hands drag down her thighs, your breath quake on her. It drives her.
“I- I–” there’s a pause in the air.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She’s got this. She’s made it this far. She can keep going. And though you can’t read minds, when your fingers grip at her flesh over her jeans, the woman relaxes completely.
Grace knows she doesn’t have it under control. With every wiggle, writhe and whimper against her body, she feels like she’s the one giving her body to you. But she remains strong. The hand she has on your jaw falls, using her other arm to wrap underneath your bosom, clutching your ribcage with a sense of protection rather than intimidation.
Her other hand snakes down your torso, fingers jumping at the ragged rhythm in your breath, her arm feeling the goosebumps on yours. There’s heat that lingers on your skin when her fingers plunge into your pants, shifting past panties and a shock under your girlfriend’s skin when your hand wraps over her arm.
“Grace,” you whimper.
“Yes?” She's attentive, analyzing your every move, feeling your body arch off of her as she toys with your heat slowly.
It’s hot. And not because of the stove. Grace can’t even think straight; she’s too busy keeping an eye on your chest breathing heavier, lips parted against your jaw, leaving sloppy, messy kisses along your neck.
Nothing matters to her other than making you finish on her hands. It’s genuinely the only thing she has been thinking about for the longest time. Your toes curl, back falling back into her torso with a low grunt from the woman behind you. There’s a heavy, choked cry from you that sends a wave through her body. If you had anything to say, now you don’t.
“I’ve got you,” the analyst’s voice cracks in your ear, holding onto you tighter. Her fingers work along your flesh quicker, never minding the fabric of your denim fighting back with her strength. But Grace is stronger. The tip of her nose plants into the apple of your cheek, using hushed whispers to keep you quiet though if she didn’t give a fuck about your neighbors, she would’ve found away to get you loud just for her.
She doesn’t even have to feel it happening to her because she can feel it through her. Your electrifying moans, hands getting antsy as they pull and prod at your girlfriend the needier you become.
“You do?” you breathe out, now filling the air both for your breaths and the sound of something wet.
“Yes.”
Underneath all of that work, there’s an equal match of intensity that both of you feel. And as she spends her time working on the heat between your thighs, she loses track time. It took her days to build the courage up to do this– without anything holding her back. Respectfully, everything that was racing in her mind up until she had the courage to do this made everything outside of her irrelevant.
She didn’t care about the mundane tasks at work.
She didn’t care about silly little chores at home unless you needed them done.
She didn’t mind small talk, but she wasn’t one for full blown conversations either with people who weren’t you.
She just wanted to please you.
And as you falter under her touch, quietly begging in a high pitched whisper, she takes it upon herself to tighten the grip she has on your body. Grace sits in the lust with you, keeping you upright when your body seizes in her hold.
The woman gasps at the mess you make in your pants, cooing you back to reality, slowing down her pace.
“Fuck,” your mind finally is able to use words again, taking it upon yourself to turn your head, feeling your girlfriend peck your lips.
“Satisfied?” you question, chuckling out quietly.
“Now I can hear about your job,” Grace teases with a smile. That’s not what’s on your mind exactly. Not yet.
“Okay,” you start. “But since you disrupted me making you something to eat, would you like to shower with me and then help me?” you ask, but she knows that there isn’t really an option. Grace giggles a small laugh, hiding her face in the curve of your neck.
it's bloody and raw (but i swear it is sweet) x Fem!Reader
Words: 7929
AO3 link is here if you would rather read it there.
Synopsis: Grace has been drowning herself in her work for quite longer than she usually does. It's been quite difficult over the past month to find time to spend together. You hoped this evening would be different, but, just like every other night for the past month, she's glued to her laptop working on her report.
Tags: Fluff, smut, angst, Sub!Grace, Dom!Reader, Switching, Established-Relationship, Sexual Frustration, Self-indulgent (like VERY self-indulgent), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Doubt, Teasing, Body Worship, Grace Ashcroft has a Praise Kink (prove me wrong lmao), Attempt at Humour, Female Reader-Insert, No Use of Y/N, Title from a Hozier Song, no beta we die like zeno getting clapped by gideon (unfortunately).
A/N: I have a confession. This is the very first time I have written an X reader fic (I've written second person before but it wasn't an X reader fic) so please be kind. I'm extremely nervous posting this since it's not something I usually write.
Also, this was originally written in past tense but then I decided to change it to present tense since it felt more fitting for what I wanted to capture, so if there any inconsistencies, I do apologise.
If you had to sum up Grace Ashcroft in one word, ‘workaholic’ would certainly be a strong contender.
Once Grace is assigned to write a new report, her mind is completely absorbed by it. Her devotion to her job can be considered both a hindrance and an admirable feat; although two truths can exist at once, it doesn’t come without its trade-offs.
There have been countless instances where Grace has damaged her sleep schedule in favour of working on her current report. And, well, Grace does not relent so easily when it comes to her work. She will not leave her laptop until everything on the report is as it should be: flawless. The fault of a perfectionist mindset, if you will.
Grace often returned home late most nights. The hour would be past midnight, and her fingertips numbed from typing away at the same keys all day. Although late-night shifts are a common occurrence for Grace — mainly self-induced for the extra paycheck — this has been going on for around a month now. Substantially longer than usual.
Although you greatly admire Grace’s devotion to her work, there’s another part of you that’s become increasingly hard to ignore. The part of you that wishes Grace would forget about her job whenever she is home; the part of you that gets a bitter taste in your mouth whenever Grace is working from home.
It surfaces too many times than you’d like to admit. From when Grace's attention is glued to her work, to the texts you receive telling you she has decided to do some overtime, it’s always there. All you wish is for Grace to share some of her attention with you, and at this point, you would take anything.
No matter what, the resentment eats you alive, like a nagging voice in your head that finds great satisfaction in taunting you. Sometimes it almost convinces you that Grace cares more about her work, because, hell, it's just easier to point the finger at someone else rather than yourself. But then, when you see the exhaustion imprinted on Grace when she returns home, you shame yourself with guilt.
It pains you to acknowledge. But the more you think about it, the deeper that resentment burrows into the corner of your skull, like a parasite. You don't want it to be part of you, don't want to feel it, but it just won't fucking go away.
And disappointingly, it's back again today.
A couple of hours ago, Grace texted you she’s going to work overtime tonight. You aren’t surprised in the least; honestly, you were expecting it more than anything. Usually, if this happens, you accept it, not needing to dwell on it. This time, however, it's different — like there is an invisible rift stretched out between the two of you — and you can't figure it out.
You silently hoped tonight would be different; maybe there would be a chance for a bit of normality after so long. And if the chance arose, perhaps the two of you could even be more intimate.
The past month has left barely any opportunity to be intimate — sexually intimate. However, chose not to speak up about it. Not because you don't want to, but the fear of coming across as needy is a risk you aren't willing to take. You partly blame it on your crippling self-doubt, but also, Grace's sex drive is lower compared to yours. While you’ve tried to deal with the pent-up sexual frustration yourself — more often than you want to admit — it can really only be sated so many times by touching yourself.
God, it frustrates you, and you want to slap yourself for thinking so goddamn apathetic and self-centred.
It's not like Grace is neglecting you. After all, she still found moments of free time during her work days to check in on you. The evenings are no different either, as when Grace returns home, she wouldn't think twice before cuddling up beside you to ask about your day. Simple things like that.
Rather, you have convinced yourself that the fault is in your schedules for not overlapping, which, needless to say, has made it quite difficult to find any sort of time together. Then, adding on top the extra overtime Grace is working, and, honestly, both of you would be lucky to get a day off together.
You need to tell Grace, you know you should. But it's gone on for far too long now, and now, you have no idea where to even start.
It just… sucks.
It sucks that you have to wake up every morning next to the person you love, and yet, still miss her at the same time.
You wish these invasive thoughts would just go away; the last thing you want is for your day off to be ruined by overthinking. For a bit, you attempt to silence them by blasting music as you cook dinner. But it is to no avail, because soon enough they return, and, once again, you are thrust right back into contemplating what to do next.
After cooking yourself some dinner, you leave Grace’s leftovers in the fridge — right beside yesterday's leftovers — and notice the eggs are a day away from expiring. Not wanting to see them go to waste, you decide to bake brownies. A welcome distraction from all your thoughts.
You gather all the ingredients needed from the online recipe you searched up, and as you are about to prep everything, your phone chimes. The time reads 8:10 p.m., and right below is a message from Grace.
I'll be home in 20.
It chimes again.
Sorry it took longer than expected.
Your fingers hover briefly over the keyboard, typing out a couple of different texts before finally settling on something.
No prob. Stay safe on the train. I'll see you soon.
You send the text, then shift your attention right back to prepping. The faint hum of car engines fills the stale ambience of the apartment, along with the soft patter of rain, and you are reminded of the fact that Grace forgot her umbrella this morning. For a second, you contemplate adding a follow-up text to inform Grace about her umbrella, but instead, you decide against it. You can tease Grace about her forgetful habits once she is home.
Twenty minutes later, the loud creak of the apartment door announces Grace's arrival home. You stop flicking through your YouTube feed and set the remote down beside your empty coffee mug.
"You forgot your umbrella again," you call from the couch across the other side of the apartment.
A frustrated groan fills the apartment. "Don't remind me," Grace says as she dumps her keys and satchel bag onto the counter, her tone gruff. "I was in a rush this morning. Dempsy wanted me in a little earlier, but I forgot to set my alarm last night."
Amused by Grace's forgetfulness, you respond with a light-hearted chuckle. You find it quite humorous that Grace — an FBI analyst — has horrible time perception. When you first picked up on the pattern, you considered it could be a result of undiagnosed ADHD. Of course, you haven't brought it up to Grace, not yet. To be honest, with her already possessing a diagnosis of autism, it wouldn’t surprise you.
"I would've— Christ, Grace!" Your chuckle dies the moment you turn around to face Grace. Blonde strands of hair clump together right at the base of Grace's jawline, little droplets of water stick to her cheeks, and damp patches mark the shoulder-pads of her blazer.
Noticing the conveniently placed towel that hangs from the couch, you yank it off and then stride over to Grace.
"Wait, no, it's okay," Grace shies away from the towel you hold to her face. "I can do i-"
"You should've told me," you interject, then begin to wipe the droplets of water away, and thankfully, Grace doesn’t pull away this time. "I could've woken you up," you add softly.
Grace wears a weary smile. "Oh, right. Sorry," she whispers.
"Don't be," you reassure, because it's okay. The two of you are okay. "Just—" a pang of guilt twists inside, "talk to me — if you need a hand, you know?"
"Okay, yeah, I um… I will," Grace stammers, sounding more uncertain than usual. Concern swells over you, and just as you are about to voice them, Grace speaks.
"Are you baking?" Grace's eyes gleam, partly from joy and partly from the light illuminating the inside of the oven.
"Yeah, brownies. Eggs were about to expire, so I thought why not." Grace responds with a hum of approval, licking her lower lip.
Once her face is dry to your liking, you offer the towel for Grace to take. "Here, dry your hair. You look like a mop," you point out, earning you a reward of Grace's bashful grin.
"Oh wow, well that's… certainly one way to flatter a girl." There's a rare drip of sarcasm in her tone, and you smile pridefully from what you intended to hear.
"You hungry at all? I've left some leftovers in the fridge for you," you inform her, already standing in front of the fridge.
"I-um… not particularly," her voice trembles, and you question if Grace knows what hunger even feels like. A silly thought, because there have been numerous occasions when Grace would forget to eat, specifically when she is fixated on work (or rather hyper-fixated, proof of your suspicions that she has ADHD), you still have to remind her to take care of herself.
"Are you sure? You didn't take yesterday's leftovers with you today."
Grace presses into the island of the kitchen space. "I mean a little… I suppose?" The slight apprehension in her voice raises more questions than answers.
"You suppose?" you press a little further.
"I'm fine. Really, just tired." Grace says as if the faint dark circles under her eyes hadn't already given you that impression.
"I can tell," you laugh faintly, allowing a little humour to resurface now, and you are thankful for it. It eases the growing worry on Grace's expression; however, it has little effect on the doubt billowing inside you.
"Maybe you shouldn't work on your report tonight if you're this tired." Cupping her face, you place a chaste kiss on her forehead for some extra comfort. "Why not leave it for tomorrow?"
Grace rests a hand on your forearm. "I've only got a little bit left," she admits, nudging further into your touch on her cheek. "Then it should be done."
Oh, she is definitely staying up until midnight again. There is no denying it.
"Alright," your nose shrivels up, and you let a groan you have been holding back, head flopping down onto Grace's. "Can I at least kiss you before you are dragged away from me?"
"I don't think you need to… ask me that." With her approval, you capture her mouth with yours, eager. You let a hand drift to the back of her neck, cradling her head as if she were a precious gem, because to you, she is. The next kiss you share is hasty, and you absorb the low moan Grace releases. A hand glides up to rest right above your chest, and when Grace leans further into the following kiss, you take the opportunity to lift her onto the counter.
Grounded on the marble surface, Grace encircles her arms around your shoulders, and from how thirsty she is eyeballing your mouth, it gives you the impression she's already deprived of it. "You taste like coffee," she comments, a content smile on her expression.
"Well, aren't you observant?" you mock, inching a little closer so your noses are left a hair apart. "Want a bit more?"
All of a sudden, you are yanked forward, meeting Grace again, and for the first time in a while, you are the one caught off guard. How bold.
"Can you stop asking?" Grace replies, and then she is back on you. Her leg tangles around your waist, drawing you deeper into her, much to your satisfaction, and you reciprocate with a smile.
Calloused fingers go to caress your face, pulling you impossibly closer, two thumbs teetering on the base of your chin to keep you level. Wanting more access, you open your mouth, but Grace's tongue is the first to push out before your own even gets the chance. You hum in pleasure, and the back of your knees weaken, causing one of your hands to collapse to the counter for support. The temperature of the room skyrockets, your head drops to your favourite part of her neck, chasing for more of-
"Okay," Grace exhales, a little shaky from nearly being out of breath. "I should probably go finish this report."
You should’ve expected this.
"Alright," you accept, leaving one small nip just below her jaw, then stand upright to face her. "Can we continue this later?"
Through the crack of the bathroom door, Grace is perched atop your shared bed, typing away at her laptop with a posture so rigid, it wouldn't surprise you if she gets back problems in a couple of years' time.
"Yeah, I'd… like that." It sounds like a promise. A small one. But small promises like these aren't enough to fuel the hope inside you anymore.
Toothbrush in hand, you wander towards the bedroom and relax one of your shoulders against the wooden doorframe. Pure concentration is sketched on Grace's expression; her eyebrows adorably knit together in pure concentration, the black lenses lay atop the small bump of her nose, and the dim light of the bedside lamp accentuates the round curves of her jawline. Despite not being an artist, you can’t resist the temptation to paint this image of Grace into a mural. Instead, you are forced to tuck the image away, a special memory meant only for you.
Suddenly, the clicking of Grace's keyboard stops, and her attention shifts over to you. She wears a quizzical expression, trying to decipher what it is you are thinking. So, you let your thoughts be known.
"You're cute when you're focused like that."
Grace's eyes widen. "Um… t-thanks?" She responds a little late, rubbing the nape of her neck like an old habit.
Compliments are a gateway to unlocking the nervous side of Grace, a side of her you are greatly fond of. Being able to still get Grace flustered in your presence, especially after this long in your relationship, fills you with immense pride. It's just that easy to do. Half the time, you do it without even trying, but you would never admit that part to Grace.
"Do you have much left to do?" You gesture to the laptop with your toothbrush.
"I have a couple more things I need to revise now."
You nod, not exactly sure what to say.
Grace shoots you a reassuring glance, but the intention behind it does not reach you. "I won't be long."
You scoff, and bile surfaces in your mouth. "You always say that." Instantly, regret falls over you, and you curse at yourself for allowing something so bitter to be said to someone you love.
Grace turns to you, confused. "W-what do you mean?"
Shame clenches at your insides. "I didn't mean it, just… forget I said anything."
"Wait, no, seriously-"
Continuing to brush your teeth, the foam from your chin drops, submerging itself beneath the carpet, and you wish you could hide away from the world just as easily.
"-what are you talking about-"
"Shit, I need to go to the sink." You make a beeline for the bathroom and spit the foam into the sink. Quickly, you rinse off your toothbrush, track back over to the door, and it shuts behind you with a stiff creak. The desk in the far corner of the room becomes far more interesting to stare at, and in your peripheral vision, Grace plucks at her bitten-down cuticles.
"Have I…" Grace trails off, "I-I mean, did I do something wrong?"
"No," you instantly reply, "no, you haven't." Nervous, you fold your arms out of habit, bouncing one foot around for just anything else to focus on right now.
Grace sets the laptop aside, then shimmies to the edge of the bed. "W-what are you saying then?" You don't miss the quiver in her lip as she says it, nor the grip she has crunched around the small of her bicep.
"It's just-I don't… over the past month, it feels like we've barely seen each other. Done anything together for that matter."
Grace is taken aback, a question of reason present on her face.
"For the past month, you've been coming home late every night — I mean, half the time I'm already asleep — and all you do is work. I don't get it. Like, you're already doing so much overtime. Do you really need to work this much?
"Well, I-I uh… I'm um, it's just I've had a lot to do." You hate the way it sounds like more of an excuse to your ears.
"Had or want have two entirely different meanings. Though I suppose both are the same for you," you bite. Not violently. Not angrily. You just… bite.
"I…" Grace stops herself, "I know I can get distracted by work-"
Fuck, there's the word vomit again. "You shouldn't have to when you are home," you cut in, tone rigid and hard as stone. "Like seriously, go on and tell me you really believe you need to be distracted by it then?"
"Jesus fucking Christ! Why are you so f-frustrated right now? I don't need you to lecture me about how I choose to work." Grace's voice is firm, very firm. It's the first time you've heard her like this, and time freezes — you are frozen. Grace is frozen.
"I- shit, that came out wrong." The blood from Grace's face drains, her skin a sickly pale white. "I didn't mean what I said."
You slouch against the bathroom door, head hanging low. "It's okay."
Grace's jaw tightens, biting her lower lip, then she starts. "I've had a lot on my mind the past month. I-It's just I…" A small silence falls over, and you patiently wait for Grace to continue. "I can't stop thinking about my m-mother."
Damn it, you forgot Alyssa died around this time all those years ago.
"Just like- I mean… It's been eight years. I don't understand. W-why does it still feel like… this?" Her voice cracks, small but prominent, and your heart spasms from how hurt and broken it sounds.
Grace traces the watch on her wrist absentmindedly. "It's so stupid."
"No, it's not stupid, Grace." You stride over to the bed and sit down beside Grace.
Grace sighs, head hanging in her hands. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologise," you say, hoping the circles you stroke into her back offer more reassurance than what your words can give.
"But I should-"
"No. You don't need to." You take her hand, caressing the skin of her forehand, a show of comfort, which, to your gratification, Grace accepts. "I… I shouldn't have said any of that to you."
"I-it's fine," Grace says an octave higher than usual.
"It's not fine," you reply, "don't pretend it is. It wasn't fair to you. I was bitter and… frustrated, as you put it. There's been… a lot on my mind too, recently."
A shadow of guilt flashes over Grace. "Because I haven't been around as much?"
You need to be honest with Grace and yourself, so you respond with a slow nod. "Yeah, I just really wished you had talked about working all this overtime with me prior. Seeing you work yourself so much, skipping dinner as well — and probably also lunch from the leftovers you leave in the fridge — it makes me worry." About her. About the relationship. About the future.
"I've wanted to talk about this for a while, but the time never felt right. It's just… You looked so exhausted whenever you came home. I thought, if I asked if you wanted to do something or be… intimate, you wouldn't have the energy to."
"Why would you think that?”
"…I just didn't want to bother you. Or ask you for something you would most likely say no to.”
A question raises Grace's eyebrows. "You mean sex? Is that what you've been wanting this past month?"
Part of it is, yes. You aren't going to lie. But also, you just want Grace to be around you without the thought of work meddling with her mind. For all her attention to be only on you, in and outside of your presence. It's stupid. Selfish, really. Because, although you know Grace cares for you, the proof is still something you crave — that she thinks about you when you aren't. Trouble is, you always think about her.
"I just want you," you breathe, the words tumbling out. "That's all I want," you can't stop them, "I mean, God, I just want you, and I'm…" Afraid. Horney. Selfish. Your throat constricts. "I don't want to ruin this," your voice shakes, the back of your eyes burning wildly, and just when you go to continue, a soft hand tenderly cups your face.
Grace holds you with her free hand, whereas the other is still tightly woven through your fingers. A tear runs down your cheek, and Grace kisses it away before she moves to seize your mouth. Without hesitation, you reciprocate.
It's a gentle kiss, soothing, the small exchange that communicates anything left unsaid between the two of you. The next one is deeper from your end, a silent apology communicated through the light, yet desperate suck on her lower lip, cutting off a slight gasp from Grace. And the third is one of understanding, an equal measure of pressure and passion, one you don't want to end and would happily bask in for much longer than it lasts.
Almost out of habit, as you both withdraw, your head dips down to mark attentive pecks along the line of Grace's neck, and you catch the small whimper Grace lets out.
"Is this too much right now?" you call out, replacing Grace's hand with the flesh of her hip.
Grace responds with a small shake of her head.
Still working at the skin of her neck, you grab the hem of her shirt and tug it up suggestively. "Want me to keep going?"
"Yes," she instantly answers, slightly breathless, and it leaves you speculating just how much Grace may have been wanting this too.
Permission granted, you begin to make quick work of Grace's shirt. Just as it's pulled over, the fabric gets stuck on the lenses you carelessly forgot about.
"You okay?" You chuckle at your own foolishness, then kindly refit the lopsided lenses, along with a tender kiss to the temple they hit.
The sweet sounds of her laughter join your own. Grace gives you a simple, "yeah," a warm smile etched on her lips — the rare kind where she allows her teeth to show.
Urging both of you to move further up the bed, you waste no time by pulling at the waistband of her dark slacks. "You don't need these anymore," you hum into her neck, the button of her slacks coming undone with a resounding pop, then dispose of the light material.
"Heh, I guess not," her voice trembles as the evening air hits her exposed legs.
You crawl back up and grasp the edge of her lenses. "Or these," you tease, taking them away alongside her laptop to rest them among the clutter on the bedside table.
Returning to Grace, the two of you are quick to discard the clothes, fumbling every so often between sloppy, haste-fed kisses until only undergarments remain. Still sitting up on the mattress, you dive to the skin beside Grace's bra, then bite down firmly, just how she likes it. You are graciously rewarded with a sound fighting the line between a hiss and a gasp, exactly what you manifested. To your satisfaction, a mark is birthed, and as you wipe the spot over, you leave feather-light kisses around it to show Grace how precious she is to you.
You mark another one soon after, and Grace's lips pull into a thin line, muffling the briefest whimper, and the trapped sound adds fuel to the fire of your already intense lust.
You want to hear more.
To feel more.
So you do. You chase after the lips you have craved to leave bruised and swollen over this past month by your own spit. The surge of your body weight forces Grace up the bed, and it nearly causes her to tumble backwards, but your strong arms stop the fall. Holding her delicately, you take her by the hand and switch places so you are backed up against the headboard of the bed.
"C'mere," you tug Grace's arm, urging her closer to you. Accepting the invitation, Grace climbs into your lap, her knees coming to rest at either side of your thighs, and you support her position by resting at her hips. As Grace's fingertips run warm across your scalp, combing back any hair cascading the curves of our face, the light of the lamp highlights the green parts of her irises. It makes you realise just how much of a marvel Grace is to look at.
The slenderness of her neck accentuates the perfectly prominent lines of her collarbone, one of the many places you love to kiss and leave marks on. Her full lips are lightly stained with chapstick, soft as velvet to the touch. There’s also the little bump in her nose that drives you absolutely insane, and you especially love it when Grace presses it against you. Her petite breasts are a miracle to behold, too, as they do wonders to put you at ease when you curl up to Grace, wishing to hear her heartbeat. Then there’s the vague amount of sweat seeping from her pores, and you have to seriously hold yourself back from licking it up.
"How are you so pretty and hot all at the same time?"
Grace's lips part from the comment, and her breath tickles the hair on your cheeks. If they are already flushed, they are sure to be a deeper shade now.
"Say that again," Grace whispers, low and sweet, a stark contrast to the grip she has on your shoulders, then drops her forehead to yours. "Please…" the word grazes on your upper lip, "I need to hear it." Behind her doe-like eyes, there rests a plea, and it is wrapped full of lust. One meant to only be unravelled by you, because in actuality, Grace is completely at your mercy.
On one hand, you want to give Grace what she wants. Then, on the other hand, you want to see Grace begging for it — for you.
"I'm glad you have such a pretty face," you start, a hand drifting up the small of her back, her skin white-hot under your fingertips. "It's so distracting, I can barely pay attention to anything else half the time."
"Yeah?" Her body shifts until she is resting on your thigh, and just as Grace settles, one of her knees brushes your inner thigh, and the tingle it sends up almost causes a hitch in your breath.
"I love how soft and warm you feel against me. Makes me never want to let you go."
At last, your hand reaches the clasp of her bra. "And every time you look at me like this," you undo the clasp, then chuck the bra into some forgotten dimension in the room. "I can never say no to you."
"How exactly am I looking at you?" Grace asks innocently, but her eyes are anything but.
"Like you want me to fuck you senselessly," you rasp a hair away from her mouth, tone hoarse. "It's so hot."
"Keep… going," Grace groans, rocking herself down to meet you, the heat of a cloth gliding along your thigh as she does. Guiding the rhythm of her hips, you allow her to feel just the right amount of pressure to sate the quake between her legs, then you bring yourself to the shell of her ear.
"You like to hear that, don't you?" you whisper, tone laced with mirth as your hand ghosts the damp patch of her underwear. A half-concealed moan leaves Grace, and although you can't be exactly sure which action causes it, the desire to unravel more of those sounds Grace tries to hide from you ascends to even greater heights.
"Answer me." The huskiness of your voice makes it sound like more of a command, and your fingers remain still over the cloth, waiting.
Grace swallows. "Yeah… I do."
A grin forms on your lips. "Needy as well, right?"
Grace's hips shift more, pressing onto your fingers for the friction you aren't willing to give her, yet. "I-I am."
You chuckle sinfully. "You'd better keep it up then, and we'll see where it gets you." Then, finally, you stroke along the hot patch of cloth, and Grace inhales sharply. Desperate for more, you shove under the fabric in the hopes of being able to hear the sounds you love so dearly.
Heat coats your fingers, and your experienced fingers find Grace's bud. You massage it cautiously with well-tampered circles, and you are rewarded with a whine, but before it forms into a moan, Grace's jaw clamps shut.
Grace is never usually vocal — or at least isn't trying to be — whenever intimacy occurs. Even when the two of you were first intimate in the relationship — sex or not — it took a long while before the guard Grace held up started to peel away. However, every now and then, it would rebuild itself, as if it had a second nature. This is one of those times, but you always know exactly what to say; reassurance does wonders for Grace, and when Grace does let herself go, it's as if her vocals become bewitched.
"Let me hear you," you say, kissing the faint amount of sweat off her bloodshot cheeks. "You have such a beautiful voice."
You slowly run your fingers down the valley of her sensitive core, gathering up more of her wetness, smooth and butter-soft.
"Christ Grace…" You probe a digit at her entrance, barely inside, and Grace's thighs quiver at your sides. "Have I ever told you that you feel like silk?"
Grace breath hitches, verging on the precipice of a moan, but not exactly what you are after.
For a bit, you swirl the base of Grace's entrance, taking your time to achingly draw out every second for her. Since you first discovered that Grace tends to finish rather quickly, you try to prolong, or sometimes, even deny Grace from finishing early on. You love to witness how desperate Grace can get. From her begging to touch you more to the frantic movement of her body, you can never get out of it.
And that's exactly what you intend to do.
Grace's entrance dampens further the longer you swirl at her entrance, and you groan out of elation from the feel of it alone.
"P-please, I need more…" Grace attempts to sink down onto your fingers herself, but you are quick to pull away.
"You already so eager to finish?"
Grace groans. "Can you please just fuck me already?"
Without a second to spare, you heed Grace's request. Two fingers glide in easily, knuckle-deep, the tips of your fingers hitting the spot you know Grace would let out a thick moan at the feel of. And finally, she cries out in a moan.
"God, you sound so pretty."
Grace's drags through your hair then pulls at it, tilting your head back slightly as a grunt of your own pleasure follows. At first, you half-expect her to apologise until you see Grace's eyes are closed, unaware of what she just did to you.
"This what you want?" You ask lewdly.
Grace responds with a small nod. "Mhm."
"Remember what I said about using your words."
"Y-yes," she says, a moan following after.
Utilising the desire you have harboured for the past month, you push it onto Grace. Wet sounds and Grace's whines fill the room with sex as you continue to hit the same spot inside Grace, over and over again. Incoherent words are muttered under Grace's breath, and she collapses onto your shoulder, panting. However, it becomes the least of your worries as the joints in Grace's knees weaken at your sides. Unmoving.
"You want to lie down?" you muffle into strands of blonde hair, and Grace nods right away into the crook of your shoulder.
Unfortunately for Grace, you are forced to retreat from inside her. Grace whines, grief-stricken from your abandonment, but once she lands on the pillow, you don't keep her waiting. Returning to her, you curl two fingers to hit the sweet spot again, and Grace trembles.
"Oh, f-fuck," Grace whimpers, clutching onto you for dear life, her grip on your back turning knuckle-white, then turns limp again.
"Hey," you call out, "you can hold onto me more. You won't hurt me." Instantly, an arm wraps around your shoulder blades, the sheets now a complete afterthought. Trimmed nails clutch your back, forcing you to rest below her chin. Seizing the opportunity, you pepper a trail from there all the way down to her collarbone, inhaling the fragrant smell of vanilla and laundry. Familiar and comforting, a reminder of home.
"I've missed you."
"I-" Grace jolts as you curl your fingers deeply inside, hitting the same spot, and you don't need to look up to know her eyes roll back from how fiercely she grips you. It doesn't hurt. No. But the minuscule amount of pain drives you forward, pushing you to give exactly what she needs.
"Oh, right there, please," Grace blurts, and her leg hooks around you to pull you closer. For a moment, it traps you, but you adjust yourself so you have ample room to continue working in tandem with the erratic movement of Grace's hips. "Don't stop," Grace pleads and squirms beneath you, holding you closely, and then, you withdraw your hand.
"W-what're you…" Grace mewls, confused in her daze. "No, no, keep going… please. Why did you stop?" Your abdomen throbs from the cries in her voice, and it takes all your willpower not to grind onto Grace's thigh.
"Relax," you murmur, "I'm not done with you yet." You murmur, lowering down the slope of her stomach at a sinfully slow pace, nipping and licking at the expanse of her stomach, which only causes her to squirm more. Taking the opportunity, you part Grace's legs, tear away her underwear, then clasp around the swollen bud. Grace lurches at the immediate contact, her hips arching towards the ceiling. You press her stomach down and hook an arm around her thigh so she can’t move away from you. Once she settles, you finally allow your hand to return inside her.
Grace stifles another moan, and after a moment of guiding her through the height of her orgasm, Grace melts. The heat surrounding your fingers clenches, her voice shakes through every incoherent word, and soon, she goes limp against the mattress.
Returning up to Grace's level, you line meticulous kisses to her forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat, hoping the gesture steadies the uneven rhythm of her chest.
"Grace?" you check in, only to receive no response. "Grace," you repeat a tad firmer, "you alright?"
"Mhm," Grace hums in approval, and you feel her mouth upturn at your collarbone. Confirming she is okay, you retract from inside of her. Grace squirms immediately from the overstimulation, only to sigh out of relief afterwards.
You wait for a brief moment, you wait for Grace, and as Grace's consciousness gradually returns to her eyes, you take that as your cue, and suck a digit into your mouth. Grace stares at you, darkly, her mouth hanging open in bewilderment. See the opportunity, your finger hovers cautiously above her inflamed lips.
"Clean them for me," you say, softening the command with a gentle whisper.
Grace stares up through hooded eyelids, basking in the afterglow, and damn, is she drop-dead gorgeous from your view, and it increases by tenfold the moment Grace obliges your command. Within seconds, it is cleaned so easily without protest, and your pulse quickens once Grace stops.
"Well, aren't you easy," you state playfully.
Grace exhales an annoyed groan, then hides her fluster in the crevasse of your neck.
"Quit embarrassing me."
You huff a laugh. "Sorry, not going to happen."
After a moment, the rain and Grace's heavy breathing are the only sounds to fill the room's peaceful silence. You trace meaningless patterns into Grace's arm as you wait for her to settle, and only then does she break the silence.
"I…" Grace inhales deeply, the aftershocks of her orgasm still coursing through her nerves. "I want to taste you now," she finishes.
When it comes to any form of sexual intimacy, Grace is typically on the receiving end of such things. Which isn't an issue for you. Really, the arrangement works out for both of you; control isn't something Grace takes, she relinquishes it, and you're more than happy to take over. But on the occasions when Grace does reciprocate — that is, if she doesn't immediately fall into a nap — the use of her mouth is always her preferred method. Needless to say, you are exhilarated by the prospect of her offer.
"If that's what you want." To really emphasise it, you lie on the pillow, offering yourself fully to Grace. Any and all control is handed over to Grace, and she straddles the body you've offered to her. Her hands rest at the base of your neck, and for a moment, the Grace analyses you, deciding on her next move.
"You look really nice like this."
"Got a nice view there?"
"I see why you like it so much." Grace comments, but there's a sudden shift in expression, something slightly sombre. "Did you mean what you um… said before?" Your head tilts in question, despite knowing exactly what Grace is referring to. "That you’ve missed me?"
You give her a tiny nod. "I did."
Grace travels over your breasts, kneading at the smooth flesh. "Have you really missed me this much?"
"You have no idea."
"How much? I need to know."
"I'd think about you all the time. About us. I didn't know how to tell you. Wanted to ask you if, you know, you wanted to do this, but I'd chicken out every time — too worried you would just say no. Sometimes when you were still at work, I got desperate, so I'd touch myself and imagine it was you-"
Grace cuts you off with a press of her lips. "Stop talking. Please." She says, and manners never fail her. "Tell me what you want, anything. I'll make you feel good, like how you always do for me."
If things ever get quite heated, particularly when Grace is the one giving, her anxiousness would slip, and a more assertive — more confident — side would replace it. Rare, but not unwelcome.
"Alright," you say, weighing out your options. "Mark me on your way down."
Eager to please, Grace does exactly that. Careful nips and sucks are placed on the sensitive parts of your collarbone. The pitch in your voice bellows low into a grunt as the flesh underneath flushes dark, tickling the bundle of nerves above your chest with a pleasant sensation.
"That's it," you tell Grace, raking through her dishevelled hair, because that's all you can do the further she moves out of your vision. Already feeling deprived of seeing her, you hoist yourself onto your elbows for a better view. Grace's back is angled downwards to your navel, giving you a perfect view of her ass lifted slightly into the air.
There's a brief glance you share, and Grace's hold on your underwear communicates a question; while you have already given your consent, the attentiveness Grace displays towards you warrants your heart to constrict — part of it from love but also partly from the fact that you find the small gesture unusually hot.
You give her your answer by lifting your hips up, and as Grace takes away the fabric, a string of arousal clings between it and you. There is no denying the proof of your pent-up frustration, not even as your cheeks flush from embarrassment.
"You've uh… been wanting this for a while." Grace states in a whisper, probably only meant for mice to hear — only Grace to hear. And just as you are about to respond, Grace kisses up your inner thigh, then licks up the specks of arousal glistening at the corner of your core.
As soon as Grace Ashcroft has a hint of you under her touch, the thought of work — of that laptop you wish to be thrown to the bottom of the Mariana Trench — vanishes from her mind. You recognise it in the way her tongue ravishes you hungrily, and it makes you wonder if Grace is just as depraved as you; each movement is slow, deliberate, but the force is tenfold from what you expect, and Grace is starving.
Needing to do something, you grip Grace's scalp like a vice, strings of straw-blonde hair tangling all up between your fingers.
"Fuck, God, yes, just keep doing that," you choke, then it deepens from the press of Grace's tongue onto your nub, and a gasp strangles your throat.
"Do that firmer." Obliging, Grace answers your prayers, flicking her tongue on you, then pressing it exactly how you told her to. It says like this for a bit; Grace alternates between firm presses and cordial sucks, and your body shudders further after every lap she does.
"Just like that…" Pressure coils within your abdomen, and your eyes shut unwillingly, the pulse in your ears and centre ringing louder.
"I need you-" you choke, "to go inside." Once again, Grace heeds your request. She delves her tongue in, circling the rim of your entrance before returning to flicker inside. The tip of her nose bumps your sensitive bud every now and then, giving you much-needed extra stimulation. What starts out as hoarse whimpers turns into a groan as you are pressed into the wooden fixture of the headboard, and your shoulder blades contract out of protest.
Grace pulls away from you, then asks, "Are you okay?" sensing your discomfort. Although you grieve the loss of her touch, you quickly adjust yourself before Grace grows more concerned.
"Yeah, perfect," you respond with haste, "just keep going." At that, Grace returns and immediate relief floods over you by the sound of a quivering moan. Flustered, you cover the blush on your face with your arm, whereas the other still remains in Grace's hair. You squirm from anticipation, and a thumb rubs soothing circles at the cushion of your thigh, reassuring the release your body craves.
"Grace," the sound of her name is an utter plea on your tongue, and you hope it reaches her. A digit of a finger replaces Grace's mouth, and you have to bite back a moan when it curls inside. All of a sudden, the bed creaks inwards with a dip a couple of times.
Curious, you uncover your face and are met with a needy Grace rutting into the mattress. Her head is still fit against you, and a harmony of moans leaks out between every palpable suck against you. Electricity shoots up your belly, and your heartbeat throbs from the sight, then your vision darkens as a finger inside you curls at just the right angle. Euphoria floods your shaking body, and the choked moans and low whimpers are not just yours alone.
While you attempt to regain a semblance of consciousness, Grace kisses your left thigh with such a light tenderness you barely register it. Climbing up to you, Grace drops haphazardly to nuzzle between you and the ruffled pillow beside you.
Once the fog dissipates from your mind, you task yourself with the job of grabbing a cloth and some water. A minute later, you return, damp cloth in hand and a glass of water in the other, to the view of Grace still buried into the pillow. Once she is pulled out of her daze, you assist each other in cleaning up and share the glass of water to sate the dehydration that has crept up.
"So," you break the silence, "did that taste better than the brownies I made?"
"Uh-" Grace chokes on her water. Probably not the best time to have asked her. "Y-you're really… going to a-ask me that?" Grace coughs between small fits of laughter, trying but failing to fight off a fiery blush.
You laugh, "You don't have to answer that, I'm just messing with you," then clear away a few strands of hair that cling to the water staining her chin.
"When are you not?" Grace scoffs, then takes another sip, swirling the water in her mouth in thought, chewing on the inner part of her cheek.
"Have I-are we…" Grace stutters, but you remain patient and allow her to collect every thought before she can continue. "A-am I a good partner?"
A lump in your throat rises. "Yes," you swallow, "Grace, you are. I should've told you how I was feeling sooner. And I never considered that you were still thinking about your mother. That was very… selfish of me."
Grace's hand snaps over to yours, so quickly it leaves you stunned how she does not manage to spill the water all over the bed (it’s not like that matters; they need to be changed now anyway).
"I'm sorry I haven't been around much recently. I-I thought maybe, if I just keep working, my thoughts on mum would um… stop." Her eyes are glassy, the corners of them watering up slightly. "I still miss her."
Worry twinges at your heart, and you swiftly ensnare Grace in an embrace at your side.
"I know you do," you tell her, and you hope your words offer as much consolation as your gentle hold on her does. It somewhat does since Grace drops her head to your shoulder, wiping away the tears threatening to fall.
"I really didn't mean to hurt you," you whisper into her scalp, tone stiff, slightly broken, but fully genuine. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, I am too," Grace says, meeting you at eye level. "Listen, I know I work a lot, but I'd like to try and make more time for you. I just had no idea you felt this way about it until now." Grace squeezes your hand, her hold acting as an anchor, not only to merely keep you in place, but to keep your mind in the present.
"I'll try not to stay back or work at home when I don't have to. " You have to fight back the burn that surfaces in your own eyes. Not out of sadness but rather… relief. Finally, you are relieved. By the fact that whatever distance has drifted between the two of you seems to have finally closed.
"That works. And I'll try to be more open from now on."
You are going to try. Both of you will try. And that's all you can ask for.
A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it to the end. I have been writing this for like idek… 4 or 5 weeks. My brain feels like fucking mush from reading it over and over again. Originally it was meant to be PWP with like 3K words but oh how THAT fucking changed. I've gone through like 3 drafts of this, and god, I think I'll die if I have to write another one.
I won't lie this is something I am extremely nervous posting since it has become quite a self-indulgent piece. Partly for many of my own reasons, but also, I've been craving more of Grace's character. More than anything, I really hope Grace was kept in character throughout, I'm not too sure if her stuttering is handled accurately, especially since I don't think she would stutter much around someone she is comfortable with, maybe only when she is overwhelmed nervous or angry. Also I really wanted to try and recapture that sort of sass she displayed in those rare instances throughout the game, I really hope it came across right. I was fighting tooth and nail when writing this because I kept doubting myself constantly. Hope I did it well enough for you readers to enjoy it.
Just to putting it out there but X Reader fics are not something I normally dabble in when it comes to my writing. However Grace is one of the very few exceptions (specifically one out of three lmao) because good lord was I desperate af for more of her. Still am lmao and might have a couple different ideas for another fic but the question will remain if I can finish it (I already have so many WIP's, help me lmao) Anyway… onto writing something else now and pray to God (even tho I'm an atheist) I can finish it lmao
Also I haven't really written an argument scene like this before, I'm not too sure how I feel about it. It was extremely difficult to write and honestly, I was quite stumped on it for a long while. Hope it was somewhat ok.
Likes and comments are much appreciated! Any constructive feedback is welcome too. Hope you are all taking care of yourselves given the current state of the world we are living in.
content...smut, cunnilingus, grace!receiving, (pathetic) subtop!grace, tribbing, office sex
summary...ever since you suddenly became parents, it's been hard to find time just for yourselves. despite both craving it, the need is ignored because you both stress about being good parents. when grace stays back after work accidentally, typing away in an empty and darkening office, you come to collect her. things don't go as planned
when you had come to bring grace home, you weren't expecting to be suddenly pushed up against her desk as she moaned into your mouth. fumbling with your jacket. in between pauses for breaths, she pleaded with you to touch her. or let her touch you. she didn't care which. she just wanted you. you hesitated, worried about other people. but she assured you that she knew everyone's routine, even the janitors. who should be on the second floor at that time. she said all of that while desperately placing open mouthed kisses on your neck, teasingly sucking little marks into the soft skin.
the overhead lights of the office were either completely off or dimmed. they stayed blindingly bright in the hallways. by grace's desk, the only light came from her computer and faint echoes of city lights from the windows. you steadied yourself and melted in to her affections, kissing her sweetly. lulling her desperation. she sighed, pressing her whole weight against you. and then you bit her lip. she jumped in surprise before you pushed her on the desk. you undid her belt as she smiled into your kiss. pleased with herself. quiet giggles escaped her as you began to pull down her pants. she brushed her hair behind her ears as she watched you eagerly. you kicked the fabric and her shoes aside before kneeling to nibble at the tender skin of her thighs. she whimpered above you, scooting herself closer, rushing your teasing routine.
"please, don't make me wait". she whispered.
"you started this". you mumbled into her skin. you couldn't see how she was dripping for you, but you were so close to where she needed you most that you didn't need to. an all too familiar sweet and musky scent told you everything you needed to know. it drew you in, making you unresistant to the urge of slowly licking a trail upwards to wrap your lips around her aching clit.
"mm fuck"
grace's voice echoed in the otherwise silent office as she threw her head back. her hand slapped to her mouth, embarrassment only slightly bringing her back to reality. her other hand gripped the underside of the table as she tried to rock herself against you, panting as your warm tongue made her legs jump with each flick. you folded them against her as you devoured her. you knew how much she loved feeling restrained. you were determined to never let her forget the feeling of your eager tongue spreading her open, tasting her at your leisure, completely at your mercy. you were determined to never forget the pretty moans and gasps she was spilling all for you. or how her glasses were now askew while she flushed.
your hand snaked up to undo the buttons of her shirt. she helped you in a rush and you brushed the crisp fabric off of her. you were welcomed by a light, lacy bra that held the softness of her tits. you achingly prolonged the departure of your mouth from her clit, slowly exposing the sensitivity to the cold air while grace stirred beneath you. she was going to complain and whine. she was so close, why stop? she was dizzy with need, but she still had half a mind to consider shoving your head back down to where it should be. but the moment your tongue swirled around her nipple, while two of your fingers teased the dripping entrance to her pussy, she forgot all about her complaints. she pleaded at you in an excited babble, barely getting the magic word out without fumbling over it.
you loved to tease her, you couldn't help it, but this time, you gave her what she wanted. your fingers slipped inside of her. she welcomed you with a whisper of yes, before gripping your hair to pull you in for a kiss. it stung a little, but you weren't complaining. she moaned into your mouth as you started to thrust, twisting your fingers in the angle that she loved so much. grace wanted to keep kissing you, but your pace was so rough that she couldn't do much else except gasp in the cocoon of your neck. the orgasm that abandoned her earlier was building again. too quickly for her liking. she didn't want you to take it as time to go home.
the desk beneath her creaked and groaned as she tried to hold off on cumming. she closed her eyes, trying to focus on work while you were set on making her shake. you threw her off when you kissed her again, trapping her soft lips. she tried to remember the forensics paperwork she was handed that day, but the fact of how you trapped her against her desk, and how your fingers roughly abused her sweet spot, slipped in and took over. her short nails dug into you as she gripped you tighter.
"gonna cum all over my fingers pretty girl?"
"p-please"
"really? you'll make a mess all over your nice desk"
she groaned, in pleasure and frustration as you teased her. "shut up"
it was rare when grace's voice took on a harsh edge. you almost came yourself right then and there. your teeth met the softness of her shoulder instead. she gasped under you, and gushed around you. your wrist was beginning to ache, but there was no way you were stopping now, not when she looked so pretty all fucked beneath you. she moaned your name, tensing, before a stuttered gasp ripped through the empty office. you coaxed more out of her as you kept thrusting, prolonging her orgasm. it was only when she reached down to pull your hand away did you finally relent. she leaned against the desk divider to catch her breath, eyes closed and completely spent. you stared at her for a long moment, burning the image to memory.
her eyes were still closed when her hand reached out for you, grabbing air to beckon you closer. you took it, kissing it as you did before tapping her glistening bottom lip. she welcomed your fingers immediately, sucking and swirling her tongue around them while you watched. she lazily opened her eyes then, wanting to see you while she tasted herself. she hoped it would encourage you to start another round. you kissed her deeply, tracing your tongue on her lip before she welcomed you again. it grew steadily messier the more you tasted her again. making you ache. but you knew you would end up being there all night just to satiate your own hunger.
you pulled away and she tried to follow you, but you were too fast. she pouted. she could have followed you, sure, but her whole body felt like putty. she really didn't want to move. she watched you bend down with your back to her, not thinking much of it, until she heard the familiar rustle of her pants. her heart jumped. with a sudden burst of energy, she tackled you to the ground. trapping you between the carpet and her desk drawers as she perched on your lap, a furrow deepening her gaze. you were frozen beneath her in surprise. and arousal. her shirt fell open and her bra had slipped to the handles of her hips, exposing her tits to the cold air. she slowly grinded against you, making you very aware that the only thing separating her pussy from yours is a thin layer of fabric. the heat of hers emanated through, teasing you.
"we're not done"
she said, as she pulled up your sweater and tank top, pausing when she realised you hadn't bothered to put on a bra before coming to get her. she bunched up the fabric underneath your neck, so that she can greedily stare and squeeze at your tits.
"but people cou-"
"they won't".grace said. her grinding deepened on your lap and her expression softened. "please. i wanna make you cum"
her fingers traced the waistband of your pants, waiting for your answer. her puppy eyes pleaded with you and it was breaking through your sensibility. fuck it. you nodded and helped her as she excitedly ripped off your pants, taking your underwear as she went. she scooted back to you with a smile broken by a lip bite. her fingers trailed up your leg before lifting it over her shoulder as she slotted herself between them. oh. you thought she was just gonna shove her face into your pussy, but you weren't complaining.
she hadn't lowered herself down yet but you wished she did. the heat from her pussy, just inches away from yours, made you twitch. she was instead leaned over you, stretching your leg while she needily latched onto your tits. moaning deeply as she sucked and flicked her tongue over your sensitive nipples. she looked up at you while she did so, looking for approval. finding it when she saw how blissed out you look. she smiled against you, lowering herself. you moaned as her damp curls and slick pussy met your aching one. she pressed against you, kissing her clit to your own while she fought the urge to immediately hump you like a spring bunny. instead she bit her lip as she slowly glided up and down, watching you watch her.
she used you like a toy, made just for her. and you were more than happy to oblige. her desperate thrusts felt so good against you, and she looked so pretty, taking what she wanted. needed. she leaned her head against your leg, so that she could devour the sight of your tits jiggling softly with each thrust. you saw the way her eyes focused, how her thrusts slowed a little with the distraction. you slapped her ass. she jumped against you, her eyes wide.
"don't stop doll, faster"
she nodded, a hint of sudden shyness in her voice. reminding you of how really shy she used to be when you first started dating. "s-sorry"
her clit was sticky against your own and with each thrust there was a faint and muffled shlick sound between you. you remembered your first couple of months with her. at first, you thought she didn't really like you as much as you did her because she never initiated anything physical, not even hand holding. but she was just shy and unsure, you found out. once you made it clear that you were very okay with all of that, she got much more comfortable letting herself be greedy with how much she wanted to touch you. she still asked for permission each time though, even just for kissing you on the cheek, which you thought was adorable. and she still was. her face, with her brows furrowed and bitten lip, focused on making you feel good. you weren't going to complain about her new confidence. in fact, you hope that she planned to pounce you more after this.
you guided her hips, squeezing the soft skin there as grace moaned and gasped above you. she was about to cum. you smiled, and stopped her. confusion and annoyance flashed across her face for a split second before you pulled her down on top of you. you used her ass to bring her closer. you kissed her as you squeezed the soft skin. her cheeks flushed even deeper, but there was no hiding from you. you thrusted her against you and groans spilled out of your mouths. she helped of course, but it was mostly you now controlling her movements. it was much faster and deeper than before, and grace was having trouble again trying to stall her orgasm. she didn't want to cum before you did. this was supposed to be your turn. but it was so difficult when your clits met each other so deliciously at your needy pace. her tits brushed against yours, which really didn't help.
she was whining against you. you were nearly there. you just needed her to prettily moan when you made her cum against you. you deepened her thrusts, firmly gripping her ass now so that there was no chance of her pulling away.
"wa-wait not yet".she pleaded against your shoulder, the one she had been hiding her face in.
"c'monn, be a good girl for me"
"but I want you to cum"
you kissed her softly. "i'll cum with you silly"
it took not even a moment before her eyes flashed in understanding. she eagerly nodded before picking up your pace. you didn't even have to guide her anymore. you clung to her instead, marking and scratching her clammy and glistening back. you whispered encouragement as your orgasm reared closer and closer. it didn't take long for you to get exactly what you wanted. a loud, gasping moan escaped from grace's lips. she kept thrusting through her orgasm, chasing yours now with a fucked out, but determined expression. the tension building tipped over the edge, and your orgasm swept over you. you arched against her with a groan. grace didn't stop though, she kept going. trying to keep that blissed expression on your face just for a few moments longer.
you were both quickly spent, and it didn't take long for grace to collapse against you. satisfied and smug.
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