𝐆 𝐀 𝐘 𝐋 𝐄

𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, 𝐦𝐮𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐡

[inkintigue]

Nothing Holy Here Chapter 1 - Daughters Don't Choose

Mafia!Joel Miller x Hitwoman!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You're a hitwoman for hire, known as The Fox, doing your job peacefully and very dutifully ignoring your mafia family that is unaware of your side job. To everyone, you're just a spoiled little mafia princess who writes books. Until your father forces you to get married to one of the most feared Mafia Lords the underworld has seen—The Hound. Joel Miller. With both of you at each other's throats, you'll either kiss or kill him. Or...both? Warnings: Blood, Murder, Drugs, SA, Eventual Smut (freaky freaky), Angst. Chapter Warnings: Blood, Murder, Mentions of Traumatic Events. (Let me know if I missed any!!)

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖝 ・❥・

The sound of the bullet lodging straight into the man’s skull soothes the itch at the back of my mind as he falls lifelessly to the cold ground of the warehouse, blood splattered on my nose and black leather jacket, pulling an annoyed sigh from me.

”It’s limited edition, you piece of shit!” I bark at him, the end of my heel digging into his knee as I kick him.

Even dead people have no manners, good God.

My face contorts in a furrow as I stare at the dead man, half expecting him to come back to the land of the living, just so I can torture him again for daring to think his blood can belong anywhere on my body.

Boren walks over to me, his boots thudding heavily against the floor, his muscular and intimidating figure a straight contrast to the teasing smile he offers me.

I cross my arms and raise a brow, a smile threatening to split my face “Something funny?”

He shakes his head, repeating my name twice as if scolding a child and offers me a piece of cloth, a wicked grin crawls up to my face, my red-stained lips widening as I accept the cloth and wipe my face.

”Was that the last one of the day?” he asks, cutting open the rope that was restraining, the now dead, man. His bald forehead still glistening with sweat, his skin pale with fear, tear stained cheeks, blue, lifeless, eyes staring up at the moldy ceiling of the warehouse.

I walk towards the fallen man, my heels clacking coming up dull compared to the thudding of my heart, the adrenaline making me dizzy.

I crouch down next to him, taking his released hand in mine, wrinkled and old with time, yet dirty and stained by sins that can never and may never be forgiven.

Boren’s watchful eyes follow me as I give all my attention to the man’s hand, closing my eyes and thinking of all the things he’s ever done.

Trafficking children and women, auctioning them off like they’re objects, using them and discarding them without care.

And no fucking remorse.

He’d lived for far too long.

And the second I saw him, I knew I’d be the reaper sending him off to his merry way in Hell.

The countless children and women that lost their lives for simply choosing to exist in a world where men think they have all the power.

Weak.

Weak creatures.

And we have to pay the price.

A smirk curls my lips, well I think the fuck not.

I break his index finger, the sickening crack making my heart stir in excitement.

My smile almost bordering psychotic as I take a hold of his middle finger, a gold ring adorning it, blood crusted on it’s shining jewel.

I snap it, then the next, then the other, and so on.

Every single one so that even in hell he can’t ever use his hands to repent for his sins he’ll never feel sorry for.

I rip the ring off his finger, “Mine now, thanks.”

I drop his limp hand on the ground, standing up, my back creaks.

”Fuck.”

Boren laughs, his hands picking up the dead stocky man as if he weighs nothing.

”Getting old already, fox?”

”Shut the fuck up, Muscle Barbie. I’m 20-fucking-5.”

He hoists the body over his shoulder with a light grunt, “Yeah? Is that why your back’s cracking?” he comments, walking past me and patting my shoulder consolingly.

A gasp escapes me at his offensive comment and I whip around, “Excuse me—I’ll show you back cracki-”

Ring ring ring.

I pin his back with a death glare as he covers the body in a garbage bag, I dig into my pant pocket and pull out my phone.

He Who Mustn’t Be Phoned 📵

Fuck.

Dad.

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, taking a deep breath, putting on my cheeriest voice.

”Hey, Dad!”

”Where are you?”

Sweet as always.

”Oh, you know. Shopping with the girls!” I reply, keeping my voice cheery and adding a giggle at the end as my face contorts in disgust.

Boren looks back at me with a playful smirk and I flip him off.

”Come home now.”

My heart thuds in anxiety, as my brow furrows.

”W-Why dad? Is everything alright?”

”If I tell you to come, you come. You don’t ask questions. You’re expected in an hour.”

”Wait—”

Ping ping ping.

The fucker hung up on me.

Anger flares in me as I raise my phone in the air, ready to smash it but stop myself, taking in a deep breath and trying to count them.

1…

2…

3…

”Breathe, baby, easy.” Boren says, walking up to me, gripping my shoulders as my breathing slows and regulates.

”Thy father being a douche again?” he asks, a smile escaping me at his choice of words.

We’d been working together for 6 years now, he’d helped me out of a really dark period and has been my support system since.

I’d even gotten the lonely man married to my professor, what to say, I’m just talented like that, among other things.

The two men have been married for 4 years now, both of them stark opposites, but still fit together, still in love, like pieces of a puzzle that always find it’s way to the other.

”You can go, I’ll clean up. Don’t want your daddy popping a blood vessel now, do we?”

”Yeah, yeah, better go. Family dinner’s gonna be just great."

The cream blouse and white dress pants I’d chosen for the day made my skin prickle in discomfort as I put on my lipstick, replacing my signature red for a Pink Paris Matte lipstick.

A huff of air leaves me as I put on my gold hoop earrings, the air in my room feeling heavier somehow, even my black silk-clad mattress seeming to be alive.

Everything around me buzzes, questions bouncing in my mind at whatever was so important they had to call a family dinner.

Whenever Darth Father does that, it’s always something unpleasant.

Since lecturing me and praising my older brother is all he knows how to do, I always clearly enjoy the dinners.

I shake my head, dispelling my worries, there is no possible way he can know about my side job.

Right?

I tie my long hair up into a sickeningly tight and neat high ponytail and put on my heels, grabbing my bag and leave my apartment.

I’ll be completely fine, things can’t get worse than being in the same room as my family.

”You’re getting married.” Three words.

Those three words altered my brain chemistry.

The second I entered my father’s mansion I was met with suspicious glares from my brother and his wife.

As usual.

What I didn’t expect was my father seating me next to him rather than my regular seat. I look up at my mother, silent and not meeting anybody’s eyes as she usually does.

I thought maybe he’s dying or something like that.

Why does he suddenly care?

Asking me about how my book is going and when I’d publish it, though laced with a disdainful tone, he still asked and didn’t comment about how I’d stayed as far away from home as possible, which he liked to do so every time.

Not because he cared, he just needed something to talk down to me about.

So when he said that, my fork dropped into my plate with a very audible clink, the fuckening I had been waiting for worse than expected.

”What?”

”You heard me.”

This fucker—

”Dad, what do yo—”

”You will meet him tomorrow, so cancel whatever you have planned. Do not tarnish our reputation, he is important.”

No.

No.

Fuck no.

”After all, the only thing you are good at is roping men in.”

The blood in my veins turn to ice as the flashbacks of that terrible night try to swallow me whole.

”Don’t disappoint me.”

He says, addressing my name at the end, his tone detached, wiping his mouth and leaving, the scraping of the chair against marble tickling my skin.

My chair tumbles backward as I shoot up, “What? This—this is ridiculous! You can’t just do that! Why don’t I get a say in this?”

My father’s lips twitch up into a smirk as he walks further into the hallway, I trail behind him, the clacking of my heels matching the frantic beating of my heart.

He enters the drawing room, plucking a cigar from the stand as he sits in the armchair, I follow behind him, grabbing a lighter.

He leans forward with his cigar, and I flick the lighter open, the fire catching the end of the cigar as it lights up.

He inhales deeply as I fling the lighter onto the table. He looks up at me, the smoke he exhales making his face appear transparent.

I swallow, ignoring the burn at the back of my eye.

”I don’t want to.” I grit out, my fists clenching at my sides.

”Of course, you don’t have to.” he says, his beady eyes sliding to me, emotionless. My jaw slackens slightly, shocked at his ready agreement, a smile presses at the ends of my lips, “I—

”That is, if you want the video to be out for everyone to see.”

My blood runs cold as my body locks up, the horrible flashbacks of that day making my hands twitch, my breath still.

”You were always so reckless, rebelling against me. And you remember where that got you, don’t you? Sixteen and already biting off more than you could chew.”

Bile rises at my throat as I swallow dry, my nails digging crescents into my palms, “It wasn’t like that, I—”

”Doesn’t matter now, does it?” He cuts me off, tapping away the ash into the tray, “What matters is that the footage doesn’t lie, and that tape—” his fingers lazily glide over in circles on his knees, “—-isn’t good for you…or me.”

My vision blurs, but I don’t dare let the tears fall.

”So, you will marry him. If you want the video to stay buried. Defy me, and everyone will know about the kind of girl you are.”

My ears ring, I swallow around the massive lump in my throat, trying to stop my breath from hitching.

”Do you understand?” He asks, standing up, towering over me.

I try to steady my breathe, trying to formulate words.

”ANSWER ME.” He yells, his true colors slipping past the calm exterior, I flinch away, “Y-Yes! Yes!”

He breathes heavily through his nose, “Good.”

He brushes past me, leaving me a broken mess that refuses to show it.

And that night, when I’m finally alone in my own bed, I let the tears fall, keeping sleep at bay for fear of the nightmares consuming me.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 ℌ𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪

A Week Earlier

Corporate tables ain’t that different from poker tables. Just higher stakes and uglier liars.

The new intern sweats uncomfortably under my gaze, his eyes trying to not catch mine as it flits across the room. His fingers trembling as he changes the slides on his laptop, his throat bobbing as he gulps repeatedly.

My fingers tap rhythmically on the table as I sweep my gaze over the people seated on both of my sides, their stern faces pretended not to quake under my stare.

”Either get to the point or stop wastin’ my goddamn time, idiot.” I snap at the fumbling intern, his voice stuttering before he answers, “Y-Yes, Mr. Miller. What I mean to say is, uh—”

”The numbers are unstable, Miller.” One of the executives pipe up, his voice cool, but his gaze with a streak of fear lingering in them.

I smirk, my expression amused but my emotions a deep pit of cold void of venom. “Well make ‘em stable, Jack. Ain’t that what I hired you for?”

His finger twitches, my tone unsettling him as he clears his throat and shifts in his seat. I stand up, relief hitting me at finally being able to get rid of this godforsaken meeting.

I reach the door and stop, my head turning slightly as my dark eyes cut through the shallow auras of the men in the room, “You’ll get it done. Won’t you?”

A few of them shift in their seats, the smell of their fear and sweat in the air conditioned room making me vibrate with power.

”Consider it done.” Squeaks one of them, clearing their throat to hide the tone of fear in his voice.

I pull the door open and walk out, my shoes tapping loudly in the quiet hallway leading to the elevator.

My phone dings in my pocket as I enter the elevator, my assistant pressing the floor number. I take my phone out to see a message from that bastard.

I grip the phone tight.

How the fuck do I keep getting myself into situations like this?

I shove my phone back into my pocket and rub my temples, sighing at my predicament.

The elevator dings open and I walk toward my office, employees bowing once they see me, but my mind is elsewhere.

My assistant clears her throat, “Mr. Miller—actually-”

I cut her off, “Not now.”

I push open the door to my office roughly as I growl, “What the fuck have you done, Tommy?” My brother startles, sitting up from the chair, pressing the ice onto his black eye, “Fucking hell, Joel. There’s no need to yell.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “No need to yell? That fucking son of a bitch thinks he can get away with conning me!? All because you couldn’t see what was right in front of your eyes!” I slam my fist against my wooden desk, my rage coloring my vision crimson.

Tommy sighed, running his hand through his curly hair, “How was I supposed to know he’d rat us out? Our families have been working together for decades. I can’t exactly predict sudden loyalty shifts.”

My nostrils flare as I breathe heavily, chuckling wryly, I look up at Tommy, “Excuses for your incompetence are just that, Tommy. Excuses.”

Tommy clenches his jaw, “So—”, he removes the ice pack from his eye, his hand dropping to his lap, dampening his expensive suit pants.

”—we’re just gonna let that bastard go? His guys fuckin’ punched me, Joel! He—”

”Shut up, Tommy!” I roar, cutting him off.

”This is all because you weren’t careful enough. And now I have to clean up your mess!” I grunt out, my blunt nails making small crescent shapes on my palm.

I lean on my desk, my hand massaging my temples, sighing as I try to tone down my anger.

A sudden idea makes me lift my head, a small smirk curling onto my face, revealing my canines almost menacingly.

Tommy perks up, “What? Did you think of something?”

I nod, smirking. “I know just how to make him make up for the losses, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckles, pressing the icepack back onto his eyes, “Bastard’s fucked.”

I blow out the smoke onto the cold night air, feeling the buzz of the nicotine calming my scrambled thoughts. I take another inhale, and my phone dings with a text.

Tommy: We’ve got him.

I exhale the smoke and take the steps down, walking towards my car parked in our secret base, my feet crushing the dry leaves on the forest floor.

Veleno. The family that we fought with side by side for decades and suddenly, the new leader decides to turn his back on us?

The name suits then I suppose.

Poison.

I exhaled the smoke, when a body nudged mine in full speed. But my reflexes were faster and I got them by the arm.

Time seemed to slow as the white smoke slowly dissipated to reveal a woman, her sharp stare piercing and fierce, illuminated by the moonlight, her face obstructed by a black mask. Her long hair framing her face almost like an angle of death.

Her eyes caught mine and I could swear I felt her breath hitch as mine ceased. We were caught in a trance, a silent battle of the will through the eyes. Searching for an answer in the others’ eyes that we both knew we wouldn’t give willingly.

The sudden clap of thunder broke the spell and my brows furrowed in confusion as hers softened in recognition and she escaped, realising that my grip had loosened.

I stayed rooted to my spot, blinking rapidly, my heart relearning how to beat normally. I shake my head, how did she even get here?

No one other than our gang members know this place.

Just who the hell is she?

My phone pings again, Tommy: Building a new city on the way here or…?

I sigh, rolling my eyes, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it before resuming my walk toward my car.

My mind still occupied by a pair of haunting brown eyes.

Heyyyy, I had this idea randomly and I haven't really seen a fanfic like this and I wanted to read it so I wrote it, please enjoy!!! If you like it, please let me know, support means a lot and its the only way I can know people liked reading it. Make sure to let me know, comments are appreciated!!!

[inkintigue]

⎝⎝𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕀𝕕𝕖𝕒⎠⎠

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫? 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐩, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐁𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐲?

𝐈𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐡? 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤!

[inkintigue]

𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 - 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐎𝐂

𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭—𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬. 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞: 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠—𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞… 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝-𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ // 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Chapter 1 - The Day My Inner Geek Did A Happy Dance Chapter 2 - The Physics Of Panic Chapter 3 - Powers On Parade (Unintentionally) Chapter 4 - Better Than Dying, I Guess Chapter 5 - (Coming Soon)

[inkintigue]

𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 - 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐎𝐂

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜

Thirteen. The year I learned my hand wasn't always entirely there. It didn't vanish, but wavered, the solid flesh becoming disturbingly translucent as I reached for a dropped pen in the hushed classroom. For a terrifying second, the dark wood of the desk showed clearly through my skin, like looking through a pane of frosted glass that had suddenly gone clear. A jolt of pure, cold fear shot through me.

I blink once, my brows furrowing in confusion, I turn my hand around, observing it. Normal. Had I imagined it? The silent chattering of the class and the click of the chalk against the blackboard was enough to bring my attention back to the reality, grounding me.

That night, I went home, lying in my bed, willing it to happen again. Nothing. It's probably my eyes playing tricks on me. That was what I thought until I saw my leg trying to form multiple images at once too.

My eyes widen as the calloused hands of fear holds me in a death grip.

The part of my self I had hidden for over a decade had revealed it's flickering shadow in front of Mr. Richards' who stays rooted to the floor, the gears in his head turning as he tries to make sense of what he just saw.

"Ms. Sunil, you-" he begins, but stops as I abruptly stand.

I flash a smile at him, "I would really like to talk more about the project, but I am so tired and I need to be getting home now." I say, gathering my things sloppily and getting the fuck out of there, leaving behind a very confused Reed Richards.

Everything else is a blur as I reach my apartment, locking the door and planting face-first into my pillow as I cry out in frustration.

I don't know what this means now, is he confused, surprised? Hell, scared?

But he would probably understand, he's like you too, chirps, my other voice.

Yeah, but I don't plan on parading around with my powers to save a world that wouldn't give a damn about me.

All I can do is roll over and sleep, hoping I die in the process.

Perfect.

Or I'll just pretend nothing happened? But he saw it, and I don't even know how long he was there watching me look like I was about to shit myself trying to control the phasing.

I shut my eyes tightly, kicking my shoes off, preparing to sleep.

I'll cross that road when I come to it.

The darkness behind my eyes was different this time, manifesting itself into something else. A gush of wind sweeps through my hair as I opens my eyes to find myself in my grandpa's workshop, the thick scent of tobacco and wood enveloping me like a warm blanket of comfort.

I look around and see my grandpa outside, his hands tied behind his back as he gazes out at the acres of land in front of him. I approach him slowly, as I stand beside him, I attempt to speak, but my tongue was tied down by the dream paralysis I've been known to have.

My grandpa turns to the side, his grey beard scattered across his face, his lips tilt up into a soft smile as he begins to speak, "You know something, my little star? The strongest wood have hidden knots, they're seen as places of weakness, vulnerability, but that's what makes it unique. It can even make it stronger, but if you learn to work with the grain, not against it."

He turns to face me completely, "If you try to sand this knot away, forcing it to be something it's not, that's when the wood splinters. Breaks."

"But understanding it's patterns, it's right tools, that's when it's real strength and beauty is revealed, little star."

"Do you think it's a coincidence? That you're the only one? The universe doesn't make mistakes, Samara. And you, my dear child, are one of the most beautiful creations of it, the most magical."

"Don't doubt your purpose, Samara, do not be the saw that splits your own grain. Give in to yourself."

His smile is the only distant memory I have as I'm jerked back to the land of the awake, my mind buzzing with the advice I received.

I walk into the lab, my hands in the pockets of my white coat.

Ok, let's do this, I'll go in, figure out how to behave in front of Mr. Richards and everything will be just fine.

As I walk towards the table, I notice that he's already here. Great, today he decides to be early?

Well, everything's going to shit.

I take a deep breath, walking towards my colleagues and Mr. Richards. He glances up at me once, making eye contact and I tear my eyes away from his.

I will hang myself right here if he attempts to ask anything about last night to me.

Thankfully, Mr. Richards says, "Well, let's begin, shall we? Mr. Kerin, can you get the energy device going?"

I sigh in relief, which Liam catches, giving me a questioning look as he goes to complete his task. I look forward to see Mr. Richards looking at me with an observant expression.

The back of my neck heats up as I leave to help Liam with his task.

After a while, we get the machine running, "You good?" Liam inquires, leaning over to me. "Yeah! Why wouldn't I be?" I ask, with the most trustworthy expression I could conjure up. He doesn't buy it, but leaves me be. "This is the first time we're showing this prototype in front of Mr. Richards, right?" I ask, changing the subject. "Yeah, you made most of it, I'm sure we'll be fine." he says with a smile.

Placing the device in it's appropriate position, I turn it on. Mr. Richards observes it's workings, the uncountable amount of energy flowing through it, one of the inner gears of the device, is crooked and I absent mindedly reach inside through the energy barrier to fix it, my entrancement with the fascinating device was only broken by concerned noises from the people next to me.

I jerk my hand back, "Ow." I say, trying to sell it, Liam reaches for my hand, "Are you alright?", he touches my hand but quickly retreats as the energy tries to surge through my body to his.

"I'm okay" I say, placing my hand behind my back, "Let's continue." I tell them nodding once and flashing a reassuring smile.

Laura hesitantly starts explaining to Mr. Richards the working of the device as I use the time that everybody's focus is placed somewhere else to look down at my hand, which is completely unaffected, but I feel lightheaded, like I drank a shit ton of energy drinks.

As I look up, my eyes lock with Mr. Richards who seemed to have been looking at me, he looks away when I catch him looking.

By the time we all had finished researching and typing up reports about the energy patterns, it was quite late. Liam, Hannah and Laura were visibly tired, though I felt more energized for some reason.

As the three of them left and I was about to leave too, a soft but deep voice spoke, "Ms. Sunil, would you stay...for a minute, I'd like to ask you something if you wouldn't mind."

I stop in my steps, turning around, already knowing what he's going to ask. He runs a hand through his gelled hair, my skin tingling at his action.

I screw my eyes shut. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, madam.

I sit on the chair as he leans on the table with his arms crossed. His deep purple shirt rolled up to his elbows as always, his veins bulging on his forearms leading to a sleek silver watch which probably costed more than both of my kidneys, but those arms though.

I blink, focus. I look at his face to see that he was contemplating on how exactly to ask me about the very ridiculous positions he had witnessed me in.

I should just tell him before he starts having a panic attack, I don't really think conversation with someone he barely knows is his forte.

"Mr. Richards, if I may..." I ask, waiting for him to give me permission to continue, which he does so with a nod with a seemingly relieved expression.

"I know...that this might sound...strange and well, after what you witnessed," I pause "I've never told anyone this before."

"Ms. Sunil," Mr. Richards interrupts gently, "You don't owe me any kind of explanation, if it's a personal matter I won't pry, but I ask you this purely due to curiosity."

"No, Mr. Richards, I want to tell you, not simply because I feel compelled to. This is...um, something that has been a part of me for over a decade, well, that's when I figured it out at least. Sometimes, I can control it, sometimes, I can't." I continue

"Well, what exactly...happens when you use them?" he asks, almost awkwardly.

"It's...phasing, I can move through solid objects and be at multiple places at the same time, and earlier with the energy device, raw energy intakes don't affect me like it would a normal person."

"Ms. Sunil, this is extraordinary. Have you ever explored the extent of your abilities? Because with your abilities and your intelligence, you could help a lot of people. We...a team of people with different abilities, we encounter things that sometimes lack scientific explanations, would you...ever consider joining it?"

He's talking about the Fantastic Four. Holy fucking Moly.

I let out a sound that's a sigh, scoff and chuckle combined. "With all due respect Mr. Richards, I'm a lab tech who occasionally phases out of reality when she's tired. I am not made for saving the world."

He nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I understand, Ms. Sunil. It's... a significant proposition, and not one to be taken lightly. However," he adds, his gaze direct, "the offer stands. Should you ever reconsider, or if... your circumstances change, please know that the opportunity is there."

He shifts slightly, a hint of his earlier awkwardness returning. "In the meantime, it seems you've had a long night, and today has been... eventful. I suggest you go home, Ms. Sunil. Get some rest."

Relief washes over me in a dizzying wave. "Yes, sir. Thank you." I gather my bag with a speed that borders on frantic, eager to put distance between myself and this intense, revealing conversation. "Goodnight, Mr. Richards."

"Goodnight, Ms. Sunil," he replies, his eyes still holding a hint of that scientific curiosity as I practically flee the lab.

The elevator ride down feels like an eternity, my mind racing with the implications of what just happened. He knows. Reed Richards knows my secret. And instead of calling me crazy, he offered me a spot on the Fantastic Four? The absurdity of it all almost makes me laugh. Almost. Right now, all I want is the oblivion of sleep. The moment the elevator doors open, I practically bolt towards my car, the events of the night replaying in my mind as I drive home, the weight of my secret now feeling... different. Lighter, perhaps? Or maybe just heavier in a new, terrifying way.

𝙰/𝙽: 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜!

[inkintigue]

𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 - 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐎𝐂

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

"Okay, world," I muttered under my breath, locking the door with a click. "Try not to throw anything too heavy at me before I've had my second coffee.”

I tighten my hand around my black tote bag as I slip the key around my finger spinning it around as I walk towards the elevator.

I press the button as I wait, impatiently rising subtly on my tip-toes as I wait. Today would be a hectic day, and my head already hurts from thinking about it.

I should definitely not have read a book until 5:00 in the goddamn morning. So here I am, with coffee pumping through my veins and 2 hours of sleep to keep me energized.

Yay.

The elevator dings, opening to reveal my neighbor, Carol, a woman probably in her early 90’s, along with a child that looked about 13, her hands typing away on her phone, I smile politely at the older woman who smiles back at me warmly as I turn to the child who makes eye-contact with me, a blank expression on her face.

Well, she looks like sunshine personified.

She walks away, not a twitch on her face. Welp, alright.

I sigh as I step inside the elevator, pressing the ground floor as the door closes.

I close my eyes, trying to stop the burning sensation that emerges from the lack of sleep. I cannot deal with this right now, or…ever.

I groan in frustration, leaning against the elevator wall as my phone dings.

Liam 💅: 1 message

I unlock my phone, opening the message.

Liam 💅: Pick up some coffee on ur way here, babe. Cause that’s the only thing that’ll keep me awake during the “briefing” of our new project. And Mr. Stretch cause, God, his hair defies the laws of physics, girl.

I chuckle, typing out a reply to his ridiculous comment about Mr. Richards’ hair, it wasn’t that good, I mean.

I’m pretty sure it’s average...

Me: I got u, I’ll pick some up. And quit drooling over Mr. Richards, he’s straight, first of all, and second of all married, like, HELLO SIR, MR. HOMEWRECKER!??

I got a reply within a few seconds, just as the elevator doors ding, opening.

I make my way towards my car, opening the driver’s seat and placing my bag on the passenger’s seat and keys in the holder. I put my seatbelt on as I read Liam’s message.

Liam 💅: Girl, you didn’t hear? He got divorced like ages ago babe!

My brows furrow in confusion, huh, I didn’t know that. It must be hard for him they were married for some time.

Me: But they’re still working together on the same team???

He starts typing out a reply

Liam 💅: Yeah, geez, awkward… Atleast I stand a chance now.

Me: Sis, he’s still straight and I would’ve known if he wasn’t, my gaydar is fucking impeccable.

Liam 💅: I’m aware, ma’am. But a man can dream.

I chuckle shaking my head, typing out a reply.

Me: Whatever see u at work, weirdo.

I turn off my phone and place it in my pocket as I begin driving, starting up the engine and backing out of the parking area.

I drive through the roads, eventually reaching the lab. I was about to turn off the engine after parking the car when a sudden coolness overtook my senses, numbing my fingertips, a harsh breath forcing it’s way out of me.

I try to draw breaths in, my lungs feeling as they’re frozen over as I suppress my body’s attempt at phasing. My eyes land on my self in the rear-view mirror, watching my body splitting into different images but disappearing as fast as they appeared when I will it to disappear.

I shut my eyes tightly, my hands tightening around the steering wheel as the phasing stops as I will it down forcefully with much effort, I lean my head against the seat, catching my breath, my head a little dizzy as the coolness retreats and the warmth of the weather settles into me.

I step out of the car, taking my car keys and bag, entering the coffee shop from across the building to pick up some coffee first.

After getting five cups of coffee, one extra for Mr. Richards who’ll be visiting today to supervise the beginning of the development of a more efficient source of energy that could possibly help speed up the evolution of technology by at least a few decades.

He’ll be there today, observing our work, a nervous shiver wracks through me at that thought as I open the door of the building.

Of course, I’d be nervous, my boss is coming to watch my work, that’s it. Not at all because of the way his intelligence and smoothness but total lack of social skills stir something in me, totally not.

I shake my head, breaking my train of thoughts as I step into the elevator, standing between the two other people as I press my floor number.

My fingers tap out a rhythm on my bag’s strap to the soft hum of the elevator music. I get off at my floor.

I walk towards the glass door as I type in my code and the doors slide open and I enter, placing my bag on the table, taking out my lab coat and shrugging it on.

I walk towards the main area, where all three of my colleagues were going about their respective works.

Liam, was seated on a chair near the projector, spinning around as he reads his file, his gelled dark brown curls falling over his forehead.

I approach him, plopping down on the table in front of him, he stops spinning, lifting his head up to look at me.

”Where’s the coffee?” he asks, closing the file but placing a finger in between the page so that he doesn’t loose track of it.

“Wow, hello to you too, Mr.” I say, with a mock offended expression as I place a hand over my chest. He chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, but if I don’t get some caffeine in me right fucking now, I’m gonna start throwing things.”

I chuckle, walking to the table, tying my hair into a high ponytail as I get the cup carrier and place it on the table next to Liam.

”You’re the literal best, Sam” he says, taking a sip of the coffee, closing his eyes in satisfaction. I chuckle, drinking my own coffee, less bitter than his of course, I don’t understand how people can drink it that bitter.

I like coffee, but not black fucking tar.

Hannah saunters over to us, her short hair swishing slightly behind her, she drinks a sip of her coffee and hums in satisfaction.

”What’re we waiting for right now?” I ask, swallowing my coffee, Laura sits down on the table next to me and sighs, “We’re waiting for Mr. Richards, he’s running late, I guess.” she replies, smiling at me thankfully when I hand her a cup of coffee.

Oh right, yes, he isn’t here yet.

Huh, that’s weird, he’s always on time.

Just then, the doors slide open and in walks Mr. Richards. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black suit pants, he places his suit coat on the hanger by the door as he walks over to us, all of us straightening up a bit.

”Sorry I was late, um…I was, uh, pre-occupied. Hope I didn’t make you wait too long?” He asks us, with a questioning look.

”Not at all, Mr. Richards.” replies Liam, already ogling, I resist the urge to roll my eyes or let my lips tilt up into a smirk.

Mr. Richards nods once and the briefing begins.

As the briefing goes on and we examine the energy levels and the practicalities of the project, an idea creeps into my head.

"Um... Mr. Richards?" I hesitate, placing my file face down. "About the energy conduit simulations... we've seen those little... fluctuations, right? At the higher output levels?" I look up, a bit unsure. "What if...we looked at incorporating, like, a multi-layered feedback system? Maybe something that utilizes a... bio-luminescent energy dampener?" My confidence seems to root itself as I continue my sentence. "It could, you know, act as a natural regulator? And... the luminescence could be a visual indicator? So we'd see if things were getting unstable before the data even flagged it.”

Mr. Richards pauses, his brow furrowing in thought, “"A bio-luminescent dampener..." He repeats the phrase slowly, as if turning it over in his mind. "That's... rather ingenious, Ms. Sunil. The visual feedback element... that's actually quite insightful. Our current monitoring, as you pointed out, is purely data-driven. Integrating a... a visual cue... would provide a far more immediate and... intuitive layer of safety. Hmm." He shifts slightly, a touch of awkwardness in his stance. "Yes. Excellent thinking. Truly." He nods once, a genuine but slightly stiff smile gracing his lips.

Was that…a compliment?

Reed fucking Richards gave me a compliment.

I bite back a smile as I nod once turning my sight to my file as I go over the pages again.

After a while, the briefing ends, and Mr. Richards leaves, nodding at all of us once.

”Excellent thinking, Sam. Truly.” mocks Liam dramatically, “Yeah, dude, get off my ass about it.” I say, waving him off.

He chuckles, “Are you kidding me, I will totally not be getting of your ass, Samara Sunil. You just got a compliment from THE Reed Richards. I don’t think the man has ever done that.”

”That’s a bit pushing it, Liam.” I say, rolling my eyes.

”Sure, hon, whatever you say.” he replies, shrugging.

”I’m absolutely starving, we’ve been at this for hours, who’s up for lunch?” asks Laura, gathering her things.

”Nah, you guys go ahead, I’m not really hungry. I’m gonna catch up on some reports while I’m at it, maybe stay a little late.” I answer.

”You sure you should be overworking yourself like that?” Hannah asks, with a raised eyebrow.

”You do realize we’re talking about a workaholic, right?” counters Liam. I stick my tongue out at him which he returns.

”You need us to get you something to eat, you sure?” asks Laura, concerned.

”I’m fine, you guys go ahead.” I say, waving them off.

They start to leave. “Hey!” yells Liam, I turn around, “What?”

He throws me a protein bar, “Don’t want you fading away by the time we get back. Take it easy, hon.”

I catch it, giving him a thankful smile as he leaves.

Just me now, let’s go make some reports.

Well, 2 hours turned into 4 and then to 6, so here I am, with time bordering on midnight, but I’m still working on these darned reports.

Something doesn’t make sense about it, random energy surges within the device is making it randomly deplete, there is no reliable pattern.

I sigh, running a hand over my face, leaning back on my chair.

I should really be catching up on sleep. After this, I guess.

I look through the unfamiliar patterns for what felt like, the hundredth time. As I read through the energy levels, I feel my body start phasing again, my hand trying to split into multiple blurry images.

Goddamn it, not now, I don’t have the energy for this.

My lack of obvious control over my powers start making my whole body phase, a splitting headache blossoming at the top of my head.

My body phases uncontrollably but not one image stays for too long as I tiredly will it back down.

The almost distant sound of the glass doors sliding open barely register in my mind until, my phasing stops and I open my eyes to see Mr. Richards, standing at a distance opposite me, with an internally shocked expression on his face.

”Ms. Sunil, did you just..?” he begins, cutting himself off

”What? No?” I say, refusing his claims, whatever they may be, trying to offer an awkward smile.

Oh well, I’m fucked.

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕?

[inkintigue]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <𝟹𝟹 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝. 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬? 𝐌𝐲𝐭𝐡. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥? 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠—𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧. 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐦𝐞.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 🖤 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝔽𝕃, 𝕤𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕦𝕡 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙, 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒 𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕤 ℙ𝕚𝕜𝕖? 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕕...𝕠𝕣 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕥? ℍ𝕖𝕙𝕖, 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕦𝕥, 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕 (𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭), 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐍𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 (𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞).

I would like to think of myself as a person who had an adequate amount of self-control. I never initiated anything with my previous paramours.

I had reveled in the power I had over them when they beg me to let them touch me. I had enjoyed it, dangling the carrot above the rabbit as it jumps helplessly toward it. I was in control.

Always.

Until I had been transferred to the New York FBI. I had expected to get along with the change fairly well, being used to handling things with ease. And it was easy. Suspiciously so.

Then I met Marcus Pike.

A fucking Golden Retriever in human form. The second my eyes caught him, narrowing down on his figure, I needed to have him. I’d expected that it’d be easy to seduce him. Wear tighter clothes, bend over a little and they’ll be wrapped around your finger. Men were like that.

Easy.

He had approached me before my plan had even fully formed in my head, offering me a friendly smile and chatting about the weather and his smile…genuine.

Great, he wasn’t traumatized. A smirk tugs at my lips at all the things I could introduce to him as everything he does screams vanilla.

He started talking to me more and we get better acquainted with each other.

”Good Morning, Lianna.” he greets with an up-beat expression as he comes into work that day. How does he get this much energy at this early in the morning.

”Morning, Marc.” I greet, my tone not as enthusiastic, but I flash a flirty smirk at him. He smiles back at me warmly, clearly missing my intentions over the past few months.

So fucking clueless.

As we settle into our desks, going through our routines as per usual, “Psst…psst.”

I turn around, my brows furrowed, as I look at Marcus who’s adorning a cheeky smile. “So…Teresa said yes to dinner.” he says, looking at me expectantly.

My smile drops for a fraction of a second before I plaster it back on, “R-Really? T-That’s great, Marcus.” I wanted to kill myself for the stuttering, I have never stuttered in my life.

He thanks me excitedly as he turns back to his work with a smile, as I turn to my work, a sinking feeling that makes my stomach twist.

Jealousy.

That’s what this is. Fuck, what did I get myself into? Should’ve fucked him in the first week and got it out of system, that’s what this is.

Over the next days, I noticed him even cheerier than before if that was possible at this point. I got shit-faced and fucked a random dude, wishing it was Marcus.

Once my mind cleared, I realized that the woman he was dating now was the best for him. Poor Marcus, innocent.

He doesn’t need the chaos I’d bring into his life, he deserved peace, happiness, love.

I can’t give him any of those things. It’s for the better.

I tried to convince myself. But every time I’d see them together, my heart would clench and I’d look away, downing the liquid in my flask, focusing on the burn as it goes down my throat instead.

As the days went on, I noticed him getting…dimmer. His smile looking forced at times and I’d catch him locked in a heated exchange with her, him looking like he was on the verge of tears as he stood there looking vulnerable as she walks away.

One day, during a particularly stormy night, I was getting up to leave as I had stayed overtime to look into some tips, I pass by the break room and hear the clacking of a keyboard. I take a step back and peer inside.

Marcus was sitting on the couch, his laptop perched on his lap, as he typed furiously, a tightness disturbing his handsome face, his tie loosened and his shoulders drooping like he went through hell.

I should go.

Leave him to it.

I knock on the open glass door, “Howdy.” I greet as he looks up and flashes a smile, could’ve fooled anyone but I noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

”Hey, Lia.” he greets as I walk into the room, him scooching over to give me space. As I turn to face him, getting a closer look at his eyes that seemed tired and…sad.

My stomach twists at the sight and my brow furrows, “Are you okay, Marcus?” I ask, concern lacing my voice.

His smile falters for a minute, “Y-Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he says, plastering a smile.

I raise a brow, “Darling, tell me what happened.” I say, with finality.

His shoulders sag as his smile turns bitter, “Nothing ever really gets past you, huh?”

I wait silently, allowing him to speak, “Me…and Teresa aren’t really doing well.” he admits, looking down at his hands splayed over his keyboard.

I stare at his face, studying his expressions, his jaw clenching as he continues, “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I try to make her as happy as possible, but it feels like…I’m not enough.” he completes, his voice wavering.

My heart feels suspiciously constricted, as I take his hand in mine and squeeze reassuringly, he looks at me, his gaze so…vulnerable, I can feel my heart clawing at my ribcage to join his, to offer whatever comfort my cold body can give.

He swallows, “I think…she’s hiding something from me, and I won’t ask her and I’m not even going to try to find out, I don’t…want her to feel like I don’t trust her. But…I don’t know what to do with this…growing distance between us. I don’t…” he trails off, looking down at our joined hands.

”I don’t wanna lose her.” he completes, my mind tells me to throw out a “Damn, bro. That sucks.” and bolt the hell out of there. But the hitch in my breath as I inhale force me to stay rooted to my seat.

I place a hand on his cheek, turning him towards me, “Marcus…you’re more than enough. Stop thinking that it’s your fault. You’re an amazing person and everyone knows that except the man himself. Teresa…well,” I trail off, unsure whether to convince him to leave her, so that I can have him, it would’ve seemed sensible to me a few months ago. But the prospect of taking away a chance like that from him eats at my heart.

”Sometimes, people in relationships are hesitant to…communicate, which is clown behavior because that’s what is more important in a relationship than anything. How would we know what the other person is thinking, this isn’t some rom-com novel for Christ’s sake. So talk, it might end up ugly, it might end up in a fight, it might end up all right in the end. Instead of spiraling, go talk to her, big guy. Thought that was what you like to do the most?” I ask with a quirk of my lips.

He lets out a chuckle that quickly evaporates from his face. “But…what if, I’m not, you know, appealing?”

My face contorts in confusion before I chuckle, “Marcus, dear, you’ve clearly not seen yourself. You’re hot as hell. Damn, I wanted to jump your bones the second I saw you.” his eyes widen slightly at that, but so does his lips.

”Not now though, I’m not a creep, I promise.” Liar, liar, pants on fucking fire.

He chuckles, nodding, “I’ll talk to her, thank you so much, Lia. You’re the best friend I could ever hope for.”

An ugly feeling tries to fight it’s way to the surface as I push it back down, him pulling me into a hug.

Okay, I know that I did a good thing and I should feel better, but all I felt was…empty. Like there’s something missing, but I know what it is. But I wouldn’t acknowledge it.

I’m not gonna put myself through that, though I can’t promise I won’t do anything the next time I see Marcus. So I did what any sensible person would do.

I decided the best thing to do was run. Not literally—hell no—but I buried myself in a six-month undercover sting to keep my brain off him.

They sent me to another city, new identity, new life. I became Maya Cross, some badass cyber consultant who could hack her way through anything. The job? Infiltrate this ghost-level cybercrime ring moving millions around without leaving a trace.

It was dark, it was lonely, and it was exactly what I needed.

I spent nights glued to my laptop, chatting in encrypted channels, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. The only people I talked to were my FBI handler and the shady characters I needed to fool. Marcus? He was a distant memory, a dull ache I shoved down every time I logged on.

By month five, I was deep in it—close enough to Phantom, the ghost kingpin, to almost touch him. Then, bam, sting day. I was bait, meeting some masked creep in a sketchy warehouse, heart in my throat, trying not to screw it up.

We nailed the transfer, FBI crashed the scene, and chaos erupted. Phantom slipped away, as usual, but we crushed his operation hard.

After it was all over, I packed Maya away, flew back, and stared Marcus down from across the office.

And my heart sank, his hair was a mess, his eyes dark and drooping from lack of sleep, my brows furrowed as I contemplated whether to walk away or talk to him.

My breath shudders as I step away turning around and bumping into someone, my face colliding with their chest, I look up to find—Eddie.

A smile makes its way across my face as an equally enthusiastic one forms on his, “Eddie?” I ask, my brows furrowed but flashing a smile.

”Trouble?” he asks as he pulls me into a hug by my waist, I giggle as I wrap my arms around him, he laughs deeply, the sound vibrating through me as he hugs me tight.

”Oh my God! I haven’t seen you in forever!” I exclaim as we pull away from the hug, “You know how it is, the hustle, babygirl. Damn, you’ve grown.” he says, his hands sliding to my hips and squeezing.

A familiar feeling settles low in my belly as I giggle, getting down from my tip-toes. “Well, you’ve gotten unbelievably hotter.” I remark, with a bite to my lips.

He chuckles, “You got any plans tonight?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “Depends…why?” I ask, feigning innocence.

He smirks and hums, “Nothing much…just, drinks and…you know, we’ll talk.” I chuckle, “Right, talk.”

His phone dings, “I’ve to go, trouble. I’ll text you the place.” he says, taking my hand in his as he kisses the back of it, flashing me a wink.

”See you later, gator.” I reply, returning the wink. He hesitantly drops my hand and leaves, his boots tapping heavily against the marble tiles.

I turn around, a full smile gracing my lips, my gaze locking onto Marcus as he stares at me with an unreadable expression. My smile falters for a second before, I plaster it back up flashing it at him, he returns it weakly as he walks toward me.

”Hey, thought you got kidnapped.” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, I furrow my brow in mock offense and gasp, “And you didn’t file a report? I thought you cared about me, Pike.”

He flashes me his boyish grin as the ice in my heart melts slightly, “I had an undercover op, top secret, you know how it goes, so, six months, had to leave and drop contact with everyone else.” I explain.

He shakes his head, “I asked Laven, he told me, though I was really worried and…I could’ve really used your help with something.” his smile flickers as he talked about the last part.

My face contorts in concern, “What happened?”, he sighs before answering, “Me and Teresa…we broke up…she uh,” he trails off, “she told me she was in love with Jane.”

He finishes and my jaw clenches, as anger spurts into my soul, “Patrick fucking Jane? Is she blind?” I ask, my eyes wide in disbelief.

He nods, “I was going to…propose, and I never got to tell her.” my face drops in sympathy for the man before me. “When was this?” I ask, mentally berating myself for jumping into an undercover op to avoid him when I should’ve been there for him.

”A month ago, I’m fine thought, and I did take your advice, we talked and we were good for a while until…we weren’t. But I’m fine, really. I-I’m getting over it.” he completes, trying to push his hands further into his pocket, looking like he’d tear right through it to shrink further.

”I-” before I can finish, he says, “Well, I should get to work and your probably have reports to take care of. See you later, Lianna.” he says as he walks away.

My mind tells me to follow him, hold him, comfort him, but even though he’s not with Teresa anymore doesn’t mean I’m magically what he needs. He’s soft, kind, happy.

I’m cold and bitter, and he doesn’t deserve to deal with that.

And so I walk away, like I always do.

That night, I had unexpectedly been give overtime and I had to postpone Eddie’s invitation to tomorrow night to which he replied with, ‘take it easy, trouble, see you tomorrow :)’.

I smile at his text, as I turn my phone off and continue working, taking huge gulps of whiskey from my flask because alcoholism is a coping mechanism at this point (It’s not, y’all).

It had been hours by the time I was done, I was packing my things and getting up to leave when I hear sniffles, my curiosity wounds it’s way to the forefront of my mind as I go towards the sound and see the evidence room’s door wide open and an almost-empty bottle of whiskey on the floor and next to it, a very wrecked and sobbing Marcus Pike.

The second I see him, I follow my instincts and kneel down next to him, cradling his face in my hands and wiping away his tears, “Marcus, what the actual fuck, dude? Are you trying to kill yourself.”

He looks me dead in the eyes and says, “Does it matter anymore?”, and the Marcus I know would never say that, he was a hey-think-positive-atleast-you’re-alive person.

I sigh heavily as he reaches for the bottle and tries to drink it but I pry it away from his hands. “You do know it’s unprofessional to drink at work, right?” I ask with a questioning glare.

He stares as me a smirk tugging at his lips, “You drink, though.” I raise an eyebrow, “But do you see me laying down on the evidence room like a drunkard? No. Get up, Marcus.” I say, pinning him with a glare that left no room for protest.

He attempts to stand up, wobbly on his feet as he falls on to me and I catch him, huffing heavily. “Where’re your things?” I ask him, “In my locker.” he mumbles into my neck and I suppress the urge to shiver, “You wanna get them?” I ask, he shakes his head no into the crook of my neck and I clear my throat dragging him and my belongings to my car.

”You weigh like dead fucking weight, Pike.” he chuckles at that or rambles something crazy, hard to decipher really at his shit-faced state.

I place him in the passenger seat of my car as I get in the driver’s seat, putting both our seat belts on, “Alright, passenger princess. Where to?” I ask, he mumbles something. “What, you gotta be louder than that.” he continues mumbling.

I sigh and start the engine, I reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, open it with his thumb and get his home location, I could’ve taken him to my house, but I don’t trust myself to stay still if he’s in my space.

I start driving and at a signal, he keeps sniffling, “Marcus?” I ask, he doesn’t answer.

”Marcus?” I ask again, “Yeah?” he whispers back weakly, almost inaudible.

”Are you okay, hon?” I ask, the familiar sinking feeling back in my bones.

”No. I just,” he trails off, “why couldn’t it be me?” I look at him, but don’t respond, opting to let him vent it all out instead.

”I’ve done every single thing right, for everyone. And no one, no one…stays. They don’t choose me. And I know that nobody owes me anything and I don’t blame anyone, I can’t. But…it inevitably gets lonely, not being chosen. It hurts…so much and I act like everything is fine and nobody sees past that…they don’t…care enough to.” he completes, his eyes glassy as he looks out the window.

I sigh as I make a turn, “Marcus…” I begin, but he scoffs, “You don’t have to try and comfort me, Lianna. I know you don’t care and I don’t blame you. Nobody does. I’m the dumb one, all the fucking time, letting everyone walk away, when I want to be selfish. God, I want to be fucking selfish, but I can’t, I can’t do that.”

I stop in front of his apartment complex, “For fuck’s sake, Marcus. Stop the broody hero act. You are not allowing yourself to think that somebody actually cares, yo-”, he cuts me off.

”Do you?” he asks, facing me, his voice fragile in a way I’ve never heard before.

”What?”

”Do you care about me, Lia?” I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to admit it even to myself.

He smiles bitterly, and turns to face the glass window again, “Right.” he whispers.

His hands reach towards the seatbelt, him getting ready to leave, I place my hand on his which freezes in the middle of undoing the seatbelt.

”I do. So fucking much, Marcus. I’ve never, in my life, cared about anyone the way I have about you. I haven’t allowed myself to, but you, without even realizing, I did. And I believe there is not much I wouldn’t do for you. And it scares me, Marcus. So fucking much. I don’t like to see you sad and it makes me feel like my heart's fucking squeezing when she treats you like you aren’t enough.” I place my hand on his jaw.

”But you are, and you always have been. More than good enough…” I drop my hand, “More than I deserve.”

He looks at me almost in awe as his gaze softens and I look away before I do something stupid like kiss him.

”You should go, get some rest.” I clear my throat and say.

”Come in with me.” he states, bluntly but his tone still vulnerable.

”Marcus-”

”I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Please, Lia.”

I couldn’t say no if I tried.

I get out of the car and he tries to walk, but still wobbly as he downed almost a full bottle of whiskey, “Shouldn’t’ve drank that much, Marcus.” I say, helping him into the elevator.

”Worth it.” he says with a smirk.

He heaves into the toilet again and again, as I rub his back in soothing circles. Eventually the never ending waterfall of consequences run out and he comes back up for air.

I help him up as he washes his mouth, a chuckle makes it’s way out of me, “Still worth it?” I ask, smugly.

He shoves his middle finger in my face while rinsing his mouth. I smile, and leave him to it as I walk to his kitchen to fetch him a glass of water.

His house reflects his personality, well organized but homely.

I take a glass and wait for the water fill up when Marcus pads into the room, looking like shit. “Well don’t you look like an angel.” I say, “Don’t start, Lia.”

I hand the glass of water to him, and our hands brush together, his eyes meeting mine, the touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you.” he says, as he gulps the water, his gaze flicking up and down my body.

”I should g-”

”Stay.”

He says before I can finish, and before I have a chance to protest, the heavens open the skies and heavy rain taps along the window of the apartment.

He raises an eyebrow in a half of a challenge, “Well, even the rain agrees.” he says, smirking smugly.

My phone dings from across the room and I walk over and reply to the texts from my mom about some dog she saw, God bless her soul.

We texted for a few minutes before I made some half-assed excuse and turned my phone off.

By the time I was texting my mom, Marcus had already placed two glasses of wine and was already sipping his.

”Huh. Didn’t take you for an alcoholic, Pike.” I state in mock disbelief as I take my wine and sip, letting the flavor burst on my tongue and the slight prickly feeling of it going down my throat.

”Only on special occasions.” he says leaning on the counter across from me, our hands inches apart.

”Special? Thought you were having a depression monologue some time ago.” I reply with a tilt of my head.

”Well, I should think positive. And…I don’t know if I was fully into it anyway.” he says, sounding bolder with the alcohol pumping through his veins.

”Meaning?” I ask, taking another sip, as I catch him staring at my throat bob while I swallow. “I just…think I was more in love with the idea of pleasing her, I did love her, but I think I fell out of it when she started becoming distant. And this…feeling is probably desperation.” he completes.

I raise my brow, leaning towards him now, “Wow, character development, Marc. Good job.” he smiles but it falters when his gaze falls on my lips for a split second and I straighten up, my breath hitching.

He clears his throat, “Lia?”

”Hm?”

”Do you like movies?”

We were both curled up on the couch, watching a random rom-com, one bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, my mind buzzing, but I’m too busy fighting my horny demons.

He looks different now, in the soft glow of the TV, a navy blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his bicep stretching the sleeve of his shirt deliciously.

He seems invested in the movie, laughing along when they say some stupid joke.

He looks peaceful and I can’t stop the smile that stretches my face.

He looks at me and my smile drops as his does too, his gaze sharpens and he swallows, I look away clearing my throat and attaching my eyes to the screen.

He seems to pause for a second then sighs as if making a decision and turns off the TV, plunging the room into darkness other than the moonlight.

”Marcus?” I ask, turning towards him, feeling him, but not seeing him.

”Lianna.” he replies, his voice octaves lower that I almost don’t recognize him.

I hear the sound of shuffling as my heart raises, arousal spiking low in my belly.

He grumbles something undecipherable, as my lungs constrict, afraid that I’ll break the moment if I breathe too loud.

”You told me you think about me…when we talked in the break room.” he states, the rumble of his voice joining the frantic beating of my heart.

”Y-Yeah, I did.” I reply, trying to sound indifferent.

”Did you touch yourself thinking about me?”

”Marcus-” my voice comes out breathless.

”Did you touch yourself?” he asks, firmer this time, with a tone I never thought Marcus Pike would use.

I take in a shaky breath, “Yes, Marcus. I used to touch myself thinking about you.” I reply, trying to crawl my way towards control that keeps slipping away from my greasy hands.

His hands graze my thigh, his voice sounding closer, “Do you still do that?” he asks, fingers twitching slightly on my denim-clad thighs.

Boldness sparks in my being as I lean towards him, placing my hand on his, “Yes.” I reply, locking my eyes with his as the moonlight strikes perfectly across his face.

His breath comes out shaky as he starts leaning toward me, unsure, but I meet him halfway, threading my fingers through his hair as I tug him closer, his lips crashing against mine as he makes way for his tongue in my mouth.

Our tongues tangle together for dominance as his hands slide up my thighs and lands on my waist, I straddle him, our lips steadily moving together as we taste the wine and desperation in the other’s mouth. I tug his hair and break the kiss, leaving wet kisses at the line of his jaw, and sucking my mark under his jaw harshly, he moans as his fingers slip under my shirt.

Realization dawns on me like an ice bucket, cooling the hot, bottomless pit of my arousal. I pull away, breathing hard and meeting his lust-glazed eyes, “You’re drunk, Marcus. This isn’t what you want.”

He looks at me, “Do you not want it?”

What a stupid fucking question.

”Yes—fuck, of course I do. But, you don’t and I-I’m not gonna become a rebound hook-up for you to forget Teresa.” I blurt out, my throat suspiciously tight. My past self would slap me across the face.

He chuckles, he grabs my hand and shoves it to his crotch, making me feel his hardness, “You think I’ve been this hard for Teresa—hm? All for you, honey.” he says, with a lilt to his voice that is far from what I’ve seen of him.

My arousal creeps back in and I squeeze his bulge earning a shuddering groan from him as I connect our lips once more, earning a satisfied grunt from him. His fingers sneaking over my hips and under my shirt as he grips hard but gentle enough not to bruise.

He pulls away from the kiss, as he trails my neck with his lips, wet kisses lining them as he whispers against my pulse point, “Need to,” he presses a soft kiss to my pulse, “—need to taste you, baby.”

I look down at him, cradling his face, “Please?” he asks, his eyes so innocent, so different to the nature of what he’s asking me to do.

I nod biting my lip and he kisses me sloppily once more before he lays me down on the sofa and hovers on top of me, his lips teasing the spot behind my ear, nipping and sucking gently. “So pretty. Beautiful.” he whispers as he kisses over my chest and reaches my belly.

He lifts my shirt and pops open the button on my jeans, dragging the zipper down. I breathe heavily in anticipation as he hooks his thumb into the waistband and pulls.

He delicately peels it off and throws it to the floor unceremoniously, his eyes trained on the triangle piece of fabric, especially the soaked spot, nestled between my legs as he gulps. I notice his reaction and smirk, my teeth glinting in the moonlight, I spread my legs wider, giving him a good look of my clothed pussy as my hand snakes downward and plays with it’s waistband.

”You gonna stare or do something about it, pretty boy? She’s so wet it hurts.” I say as I press a finger over my clothed entrance.

He lets out a shuddery breath and places his hot mouth over my clothed pussy almost as if he couldn’t help it, and licks a stripe over it. My body tingles at the feeling and my body wars with the need to push him closer to where I want and to let him have his own pace.

I fist my hands and will them to stay still as he eases my panties off me and discards it on the floor. He turns back to my pussy as he nestles his head between my thighs, his hot breath fanning over my glistening heat.

He spreads my folds almost hesitantly first, collecting my wetness on his fingers and he sighs before spreading my folds with his thumbs, reaching for my clit with his lips as he latches onto it and sucks.

A moan escapes my throat at his action and I try not to buck my hips, he licks and sucks at my clit, travelling downwards with his mouth and swirls his tongue in my entrance, thrusting in and out steadily, successfully breaking me open.

I moan helplessly as my hand finds its way to his hair as I tug him closer to where I need him and he groans in pleasure, the sound vibrating in my cunt.

His hands grip my hips as he works me over the edge relentlessly, “You taste so good, Lia,” he licks a stripe up my slit, “—can’t stop. Best pussy I’ve ever eaten.”

His words make me squirm as I smirk at his new side which I’m very clearly enjoying, arousal gushing between my folds. When his tongue glides over my clit, flattening just right and curling, making me cry out in pleasure.

I feel my orgasm coming low in my belly, “Marc, I’m gonna-”

He takes a break from making out with my pussy and says, “Come on, Lia. Cum for me.” his lips brushing my cunt, as I shiver and cum with a cry, a firm grip on his scalp.

I breath heavily, coming down from my high as he kisses his way back up my body, lifting my shirt and tugging it off.

I reach for his and he helps me discard it on the floor carelessly as he strips completely and by the time he turns, I had already taken off my bra, throwing it somewhere behind me.

He turns to me, his eyes raking over my body as his hands land on my waist as he cradles my cheek with one of his hands, and kisses me sloppily—”Bedroom?” he asks, his eyes twinkling innocently, I nod, biting my lip.

He attacks my lips again and places his hands under my thighs and picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, as we continue making out.

The short walk to the bed was a blur in my head as he drives me crazy with his mouth, his tongue dipping in and hooking with mine as he whispers sweet nothings with his actions. He closes the bedroom door behind me, and walks toward the bed and lays me down, our lips connected the whole time.

He tastes exactly like I imagined, warm and even sweeter. His hand trails down my neck and he breaks the kiss as he looks down, his thumb flicking over my nipple.

”So Goddamn perfect.” he states before taking one of my nipples in his mouth and toying with the other. His naked hardness presses against my heated core and I grind down on him as he groans. His hips buck as I grind down faster.

”Please,” I trail off—he looks at me, “Fuck me, Marcus.” I added. He growls lowly as he attacks my lips with a harshness and sloppiness that made my head spin. He reaches with his hand and enters a finger in me, working me open.

I moan and squirm helplessly as he adds another, my slick coating his fingers as he scissors me open. He reaches for my hips and sheathes his cock in my wet heat as we let out a collective moan of pleasure, our foreheads pressing together.

He gives me a moment to adjust to his size as he slowly starts thrusting in, a moan slipping past my lips. He pulls out and slams back in again to the hilt, my body on fire with the onslaught of sensations as he marks my chest, groaning into the crook of my neck.

His pace was controlled, held back. I wrap my legs around his hips as I whisper in his ear, “Faster.”

He picks up his pace as he slowly lets go of his self-control and starts slamming into me at a pace which makes me see stars, the hair at his base flush against my clit, producing delicious friction.

His grip on my hips tighten as I weave my fingers through his hair and he sighs before pounding into me but still controlled as if he had a voice at the back of his head that told him to be gentle. A smirk makes it’s way across my face, I’m going to have so much fun making him lose that control.

But this is a one time thing, the thought hits me like a freight train as I realize the reality of the situation. He’s in a vulnerable position and he needed comfort, I was simply there. The only sensible thing is to make it worth his while, this is the only comfort I’ll let myself have with him.

I’ll move on.

After this.

Making up my mind, I flip us over, him laying flat on the bed and me straddling his hips as he looks at me bewildered, his hands immediately going to my hips.

I lean down to his ear, “Let me take care of you, pretty boy.”

He takes a sharp intake of breath at that and I smirk, the familiar buzz of control swimming in my veins as I brace my hands on his chest and rise up before slamming down harshly, letting out a sigh of pure bliss as the angle is so much deeper and fuller now.

He lets out strangled moans and groans as I ride him like it’s my last day on Earth and his hands tighten around my hips guiding me. I continue my relentless pace as I peer down at him, his sweat slicked skin gleaming in the moonlight, his glassy eyes and blown-out pupils, all the result of the pleasure I gave him. He’s this vulnerable for me.

The thought gives me renewed energy as I ride him with fervor, the knot at my lower stomach tightening and about ready to burst. I feel myself getting closer to orgasm and I look to him to see his brows furrowed in concentration.

”You close?” I ask him, he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. I lean down and kiss him, he takes a firm hold of my hair, and I caress his jaw, slamming down on him continuously, my tits flush with his chest.

I clench around him as I cum, he follows soon after, shooting deep, hot ropes of cum in me as I collapse on him, panting together heavily. Our breaths mingle together as he smiles cheekily after coming down from his high, I lift one eye brow in confusion as a traitorous smile makes it’s way across my face.

He shakes his head and kisses my nose, caressing my jaw. Our eyes meet and we hold it for a minute before I snap out of it. I slowly get off his cock as his spent starts leaking out of me.

His brow furrows in regret, “I’m on the pill. S’fine, pretty boy.”, he nods once and smiles, before getting up and going to the connected washroom.

I sigh heavily as he leaves, the weight of my decision in contrast to the light weight of the blanket grounding me. I’ll be an adult and talk it out with him when he comes back. Surely, it meant nothing. Just a one-time thing.

He comes back and I expect him to roll around and sleep, except he slowly peels the sheets off me and spreads my legs, taking a wet rag and cleaning me up with the concentration of a topper solving a math problem.

My heart swells at his gesture that I’m unfamiliar with, I wince slightly as he wipes at a sore part of me. his face contorting as he mouths ‘sorry’.

I smile and shake my head, he finishes cleaning me up and tosses the rag on the bedside table and joins me on the bed, pulling me close to his chest, pressing a feather-light kiss to the crown of my head. His erratic heartbeat my lullaby as I slowly fall asleep.

Tomorrow.

I’ll talk to him tomorrow.

I didn’t, in fact, talk to him the next day.

I woke up tangled in his sheets, my face buried in his chest as he sleeps peacefully next to me, a soft smile gracing his face.

Guilt crashes over me in waves as I realize that he must not have wanted it and was probably too drunk out of his mind to care. I slowly sneak out of his bed with the practiced steps of a professional as I go to the living room and my eyes widen at the scattered clothes.

I scavenge for my clothes as I wear them one by one. I gather his clothes too as I fold them in a neat pile and place it next to the nightstand. I get a water from the kitchen and a hangover pill, and get the fuck out of the place.

The ride back to my apartment consisted of holding back tears (it’s the fucking allergies), as I wipe at the ones that escape and I sniffle, thinking about falling children to entertain myself.

I quickly showered and changed trying my best to ignore the ache between my legs and my heart as I drive to the office.

I reach my desk and place my things, looking over to see Marcus’ desk empty. My brow furrows in concern as I start to wonder why he’s late.

You literally ditched him, you don’t deserve to worry about him.

Right.

Right, right.

I shake my head and was about to get to work when someone places a coffee cup on my desk, I follow the hand to see Eddie with a sheepish grin on his face. I return the smile as he kisses my cheek, “Mornin’, trouble. Sleep well?” he asks, his deep voice revibrating through the room, but doesn’t make my heart clench…like someone else’s does.

Shut up, focus.

”Kind of.” I was fucking my colleague for who I have harbored feelings for as long as he smiled at me and opened his handsome Goddamn mouth, but I’ll never tell him cause I’m a pussy.

I smile.

Eddie returns it, “Rough night, huh?”

Something like that.

”We still on for drinks, right?” he asks, pointing his finger at me, “Of course, I’ll meet you there.” I reply as he smiles, pulling me into a hug by the waist, kissing my neck.

I look over his shoulder during the hug, making direct eye-contact with Marcus, his eye dark and jaw clenched in an expression very different from Marcus Pike’s default expression.

He lets go of the hug, and winks at me before leaving, I offer him a weak smile, Marcus’ expression steering something dark and dirty in me as I clear my throat, taking a large gulp of the coffee, letting the scalding hot liquid burn my tongue to forget his gaze still piercing me.

He walks over to my desk, I avoid eye-contact with him, finding the file that I finished yesterday very interesting as I flip through it, ignoring his presence. He slams a coffee cup down on my table as I suppress the urge to jump, and he walks away without a word.

He was late because he went to buy me coffee?

Fuck me.

I ignored him for the rest of the day, like bouncing the teacher who’s class you bunked and I hid.

Pathetic, I know.

But desperate times call for desperate fucking measures.

I enter the evidence room to gather the findings from the latest case, and I hear the door lock and close behind me. I turn around to see Marcus, standing with his arms crossed. A dark bruise on his neck.

A hickey.

The one I gave him.

”What’re you doi-”

”Who was he?”

”What? Wh-”

”Why did you leave?” his eyes were different now, soft, vulnerable…sad. Because of me.

My throat closes in on itself, “Marc-”

”I-Is it because it wasn’t good enough. You didn’t enjoy it? You said you cared about me. D-Did you lie? I’m sor-”

I grab his shirt collar and pin him against the wall.

”Will you fucking listen for once? Fucking listen to me.”

He looks at me shocked but doesn’t say a word.

”I never lied to you, I never have. I meant every fucking word. But just because I care about you doesn’t mean I have to sleep with you more than once. It was a one time thing, you were drunk, you needed comfort. I was willing to provide it. We fucked. It was casual, it wasn’t—” Love. I swallow thickly, “—anything else. And if I ever hear another apology from your lips I will fucking kill you. Is that clear?” I finish, my throat threatening to close completely as the lump grows bigger as I spew lie after lie.

He looks down, not meeting my eyes and nods. I let go off his collar, stepping back and turning around, running a hand through my hair, biting my lips to keep my tears at bay.

This is for the better.

Me loving him will only end badly for him, if I have him, I won’t let him go.

I’ll hurt him

He’s better off without me

”Is it because of him?” Marcus asks in a tone I don’t recognize.

I sigh, turning around, “Marcus…” his eyes were glassy like he was fighting tears too.

”Do you love him?”

”I-”

”Do. You. Love. Him?”

”No.”

”Do you love me?”

”Marcus-”

He cuts me off by clashing our lips together, immediately forcing his tongue in my mouth as I kiss him back, my fingers finding it’s place back to his familiar tresses.

He groans into the kiss as he pulls me impossibly closer by the waist, as he tugs at my hair harshly, deepening the kiss. Pleasure tingles through my body, he pushes me against the wall and attacks my neck, marking me furiously.

”Marcus, we shouldn’t-”—he sucks at my pulse point and I let out an embarrassing moan, “—shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t want it.”

He pries my leg apart with his hand and lifts one of my thighs, using the extra space to press his raging hard-on to my clothed core. We moan collectively, our breaths mingling together.

”Does this feel like I don’t want you? I’ve wanted you the second I saw you. I tried not to let it get to my head,” he thrust his lower half to mine and my head falls to his shoulders at the friction.

”Tried to forget you. Thought you’d never want me.” He connects his forehead with mine, “That didn’t really work out.”

I breathe heavily, my wet panties clinging to my skin and I wince as he grinds down harder on me.

”Unless you don’t want this?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since he kissed me.

I curse under my breath, as I make quick work of his belt, “Just shut the hell up and fuck me.”

He smirks, innocently boyish, as he helps me take off his jeans and he tugs up my skirt, finding my panties.

”Jesus—you’re so wet. You like this, huh? Making him think he has a chance and then letting me fuck you against a wall the next.” his filthy words help fuel my arousal as I squirm helplessly in his firm grip.

He shimmies my panties down it pool around my ankles, kissing me sloppily again, tongues clashing, drool-slick lips as he nips at my jaw, “Nobody can see you like this ever again—just me, you understand?” he asks, and I can’t help but nod as my fingers tighten on his broad shoulders.

He positions his dick at my entrance as he enters me in one go, I clench around him and cry out, he puts his hand over my mouth as he whispers, “You don’t want anyone to hear you crying on my cock, do you?”

A mixed feeling of pride and arousal swirls around my heart as I revel in the fact that I make Marcus Pike, the default softie, golden retriever sunshine boy, talk like the only language he knows is filth.

He slams into me and thrusts in and out relentlessly, without a thought of holding back and my orgasm is dangerously close.

He brushes against my G-Spot and my eyes roll back and I let out a moan, muffled by his large hand covering my mouth.

”You know that anyone can take one look at the security cameras and see you getting ruined by me, right?” I let out a moan, “You want them to see you cry so pretty, hm— drunk on my cock?”

The stark difference in his behavior almost makes me laugh.

Almost.

The possible laugh turns into a whimper as he lifts my leg higher, slamming directly at my G-Spot, I moan loudly at that, the sound coming out muffled.

”Right there?” he asks, I moan, squirming.

He smirks, “Yeah, right there.” he confirms before thrusting into me relentlessly, and I whimper, squirming, letting him take and give as much as he wants.

My orgasm crashes into me without warning and I dig my blunt nails into his back as I clench around his cock, “There we go—fucking strangling me.” he comments as he kisses me sloppily, thrusting again and again, chasing his own high and he comes with a groan, releasing his cum deep in my cunt as we breathe together.

He slowly pulls off of me, and his spent threatens to drip out but he uses his finger and plugs it back in, “You’re gonna walk around with my cum in you.” he says as he wraps his hand around my waist possessively and crushes me in a hug.

He gets dressed and I fix my skirt, pulling my panties back on, after we’re done, we stop for a beat and he looks at me. He cups my cheek tenderly in his hand as he kisses me softly, almost reverent.

”Lianna. I love you. I always have. I’ve always been too scared to believe that someone would actually want me. You deserve someone who can keep up with you. Someone interesting. Bold. Not boring like me. So I tried to forget you, dated Teresa, put all my efforts and feelings for you into her. But…seeing you with him…I can’t. I’m not going to let you go when I can do something about it. I will be better for you. I’ll give you whatever you want. I love you, Lianna. I love you so much it hurts to breathe.”

My breath gets stuck in my throat, “I-I can’t, I need to go.” I rip out of his hold before a tear falls down my cheek and rush out of the evidence room.

And this time?

He lets me go.

Walking into the bar Eddie had texted me about, the smell of booze, sweat and bad decisions invade my lungs. I look around the bar and I see Eddie waving at me from the booth in the corner. I wave back with a smile and join him.

He hugs me, “Took ya long enough, trouble.” he remarks

I was late because I tried to avoid Marcus but he still saw me regardless, while I was on the phone with Eddie. He walked away without a word, his face giving away nothing.

I shake off the memory as Eddie hands me a glass of whiskey.

I eagerly take it and chug the whole thing in one go, Eddie whistles, “Still a drinker, huh?”, he pourse me more, “Still a criminal, huh?” I joke, he smirks mid-sip.

”Smartass.”

We talk for a while I drink glass after glass and we had finished about three and a half bottles, I was shit-faced and Eddie’s hand started stroking my thigh mid-convo. I lean into it, trying to forget someone else’s gentler touch as Eddie kisses me, all tongue and heat.

I try to get lost in it, but two brown pools of eyes keep flashing in my mind the second my eyes close. Eddie notices it and pulls back, his steel-blue eyes locked on mine.

”Everything alright?”

”Yeah, yeah.” I try to pull him back.

He moves away, chuckling.

”It’s that guy at the office isn’t it?”

My eyes widen and my lack of a response gives him confirmation.

He turns to face me and cups my face turning it towards him, “Come on, sweet pea. Tell me what’s wrong.”

My bottom lip juts out as I try to keep the tears at bay, though it streams down anyway. I hiccup and tell him all about it and I was telling him about when I dropped him off at his place.

”And you fucked him.” he says nonchalantly.

”How’d you know?” I ask, my words slightly slurring together.

”I saw your hickey this morning, and that chap’s look when he saw you hugging me.” he replies

”Oh.”

”But what’s the problem here? You fucked him, ok done. So what?”

I look at him guiltily. He appears confused for a while.

”You love him.” he says, and I don’t reply, neither denying it nor confirming.

”Does he love you?” he asks, “He gave a monologue why he does. And my heart fluttered, Ed. Fluttered.”

Eddie chuckles, “Then what’s the problem here, babygirl? You love him, he loves you. Why don’t you go for it.”

I shake my head, looking down.

”Is this because of Teila?” the name makes my blood run cold as I look away, my jaw clenched in anger.

”Forget her, sweet pea. It wasn’t your fault she died.” my breath hitches as the flashbacks hit me like a slap.

My first girlfriend, I was young then. Naive. She loved me, she said.

I would’ve killed for her.

Died for her.

But she cheated on me. With my best friend.

He was a troubled guy, always getting into fights, he killed her when he got angry once. Beat her to death and then did…

I shut my eyes tightly, not letting myself go there.

Everyone I’ve ever loved found a reason to destroy themselves when they get associated with me.

It must be a curse at this point.

Fucking poetic.

”Don’t talk about her.” I say, my tone controlled by rage leaking through the cracks.

Eddie sighs, placing a hand on shoulder, “You are not unlovable, my dear. Let yourself trust him. I know it’s not easy. But he loves you, so clearly, and he is still trying, even when you try to resist. Let yourself rest, sweet girl. You deserve love and happiness. You deserve to make people feel happy. You deserve to live without punishing yourself for things that weren’t your fault.”

I look up at him, my tears flowing freely, I nod biting my lip. “It’s not easy, it really fucking isn’t.”

”I know it isn’t, darling. But it gets easier, to free yourself from what hold you back, you have to struggle a bit, but as time goes on, with the right people, it’ll just be a distant memory, still present, but it can’t hurt you now.”

I sob, tears falling into my mouth as he pulls me closer and hugs me.

”Now, now. Stop crying, what was that you used to say? Ah, right. Bad bitches don’t cry.” I chuckle as he gently wipes away my tears.

”But what if I ruin Marcus, just like I did Teila. Just like I did everyone else.”

”You didn’t ruin Teila, she made her own choice. And Marcus, even when you pushed he pulled, I hope he’s smart—for your sake. He’ll make the right choice, honey. It’s up to you now.”

I nod, thinking it over in my mind, my jaw clenching in determination.

”So are we going to just sit here or go get your man?”

Eddie drops me off at Marcus’ apartment with an encouraging smile and a ‘Go get him, trouble.’

Standing outside his apartment door, heavily drunk and shit-faced, the anxiety coursing through my veins almost made me piss myself. But I took a deep breath and pressed the door bell, but I missed, my vision blurring, I try again, failing.

I resort to knocking, then banging after a few seconds, before my fist lands against the wooden door once more, it opens, my hand landing on Marcus’ chest. I look up at him, to see his confused expression.

”Lianna? What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyes wide in concern. I hiccup, “Wanted to—hic—see you.”

He drags me in gently by the arm and closes the door, I try to stand still but collapse on him, “Are you drunk?” he asks, I furrow my brows and my lips jut out in a pout, “Noooo.”

He looks at me and blinks, “Right, sure you’re not.”, he tries to move but I bury my nose in his chest, “You smell goood.” I say, drawing out my words, slurring together. He clears his throat as I nuzzle my face against his bicep.

”I’m sorry.” I say, feeling the familiar lump make it back in my throat as he strokes my hair tenderly. “For what?” He asks, tilting my face to meet his eyes but I avert them, hiccupping.

He leads me to the couch and leaves, getting me a glass of water, “Drink.” he passes it to me. I scrunch my face in disgust as I shake my head no. He sighs and before he can speak, my stomach decides it’s time to empty itself as I cover my mouth.

His eye widen in panic as I run to washroom and vomit out the day’s contents into the toilet as he holds my hair back.

I heave wave after wave of half digested goo as I slump down on the toilet, he helps me up and I wash my mouth, he flushes the toilet and I fall into him completely.

He makes me sit down on the bed and retrieves the glass of water and hands it to me, “You gonna drink it now?”, I pout before giving in and swallowing the cool liquid, my face relaxing at the sensation.

I drink the whole glass and he takes it and places it on the nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a hair-tie and starts tying my hair. “Why do you have hair-tie’s?” I ask, suspiciously.

He chuckles, “Why? You jealous?”

I look him in the eyes and nod. His expression falters for a minute before he answers, “My sister. She always forgets it, so I have these for her in case she forgets them.”

I nod once, satisfied with his answer, he tries to leave again, but I grab his wrist, he turns back and looks down at me as I look up at him, trying not to tear up.

He sits down next to me and grabs my face in his hands, “Hey, hey. You alright?”

I shake my head no as I take in a deep breath, I shut my eyes tightly before opening them.

”I love you too, Marcus. And I have from the moment I heard your voice, from the moment I realized that you actually cared about me and you’re not doing it due to some obligation. I love you even though you deserve so much better than me. I’m broken beyond repair, this…void in me…can’t be filled and I didn’t want you to waste your time trying to. But then…today, you told me that you loved me, and I felt whole again, I felt like me. You help me become better for myself, but you deserve so much more than someone learning to love you, but I love you, and I can-”

He kisses me.

Completely, Wholly. With all the love and power he can muster, pouring his emotions into it and demanding mine as I give it to him like an offering of my soul.

He pulls back and connects his forehead with mine, after placing a kiss on top of it, “Not a word about anything bad about you, Lianna. You are perfect and everything I need. You aren’t learning to love, you know how to, you just haven’t allowed yourself to in so long.”

”You don’t get it, Marcus. I’m a nightmare, I-”

”Well, the nightmare left me water and hangover pills and comforted me when I really needed someone. And loves me. Even though she’s scared to.”

Tears slip out of my eyes as I bite my lips, unable to make any audible sound as he kisses away my tears.

”I love you, Lianna Rosewood. More than you can ever measure or compare. Don’t doubt yourself or my love for you. You’re it for me. Let me love you.”

I let out a sound that is equally a sob and a chuckle, a smile spreading through my face, “I love you too, Marcus Pike. More than I’ve ever allowed myself to. More than I ever planned to. My light in the dark days, I’m going to love you.”

𝕐𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠, 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖, 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕚𝕥. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕠𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖𝕕 "𝕤𝕖𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤" 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕, 𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖. 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕, 𝕃𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕀𝕊 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕, 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕦𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕦𝕞𝕒, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖. 𝕆𝕂, 𝕐'𝔸𝕃𝕃 𝕀'𝕄 𝕐𝔸ℙℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾!!! 𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕍𝔼 𝔸 ℂ𝕆𝕄𝕄𝔼ℕ𝕋 𝔸ℕ𝔻 𝕋𝔼𝕃𝕃 𝕄𝔼 𝕎ℍ𝔸𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝕃𝕀𝕂𝔼 𝕆ℝ 𝕀'𝕃𝕃 𝔻𝕀𝔼 ℂ𝔸𝕌𝕊𝔼 𝕆𝔽 𝕎ℝ𝕀𝕋𝔼ℝ'𝕊 𝔹𝕃𝕆ℂ𝕂- *𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕*

[inkintigue]

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

hElloooo everyone! I’m InkIntrigue, your new depraved writer.

This is a collection of smutty one-shots — some long dramas, and pure, sizzling moments starring your favorite characters by Pedro Pascal. Each fic is a standalone piece, perfect for whenever you want a quick escape into sexy chaos. No need to read in order; just dive in, get dirty, and come back for more. I would loveee to know your thoughts so leave a comment!

Expect: 🔥 Age gaps that make your heart race 🔥 Slow burns that will have you sweating 🔥 Snarky banter + messy emotions 🔥 The kind of scenes that get you blushin’ and gaspin’

If you like it hot, unapologetic, and a little reckless — you’re home.

Bookmark this, share the heat, and let me know which one makes you go 😍.

𝐍𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐨 (𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬) ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆° 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥. 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐀 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝-𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲—𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐭, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐍𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭... 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦. 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞? 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞? 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 “𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐨𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞” 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠. ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆°

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐭, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈𝐭 - 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 (𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧) ⏾ 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰-𝐢𝐭-𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞—𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫: 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥. 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲. 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲. ⏾

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐤𝐞 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭) ☾ ☀︎ 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝. 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬? 𝐌𝐲𝐭𝐡. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥? 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠—𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧. 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐦𝐞. ☾ ☀︎

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 - 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬) 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

[inkintigue]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐭, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈𝐭

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <𝟹𝟹 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰-𝐢𝐭-𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞—𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫: 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥. 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲. 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲.

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠, 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠. 𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕, 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕. 𝕐𝕖𝕤, 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝. 𝕐𝕖𝕤, 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕪. ℕ𝕠 𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕞 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕠𝕗 “𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕜.” 𝕋𝕚𝕞 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕪 𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨. 𝕊𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒 𝕁𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜. 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕕. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕧𝕚𝕓𝕖𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕚𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕖. 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕒𝕪, 𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤 <𝟛 ℙ𝕊: 𝕀𝕗 𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕥, 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕝𝕦𝕔𝕜. ℙℙ𝕊: 𝔻𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕤. 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞, 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫/𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐩, 𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐧, 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜, 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐞 (𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥), 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲, 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫-𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐇𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬, 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕 (𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬).

Tim Rockford was the bane of my existence. Choosing to be a detective after juggling thousands of other career choices, I thought my life would be easy, I’d be doing what I’ve always wanted to, putting bad guys where they belong.

It seemed simple at the time.

What I didn’t expect was that I would have to deal with my grumpy senior who seemed to get off on picking at every single thing that I did.

”You’re being sloppy, Jade.” he says, placing my file on my desk with a thud.

My brows furrow in confusion, “What do you mean, Sir? The victim claimed that the uncle was present during that event.”

He looks at me passively, “The victim may claim what they want, but you don’t ever, and I mean ever, state something without hard proof as a fact.”

Before I could get a word out, he leaves and I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to resist the urge to drive a sledgehammer through his head.

But the worst part?

He was hot.

Like, hot, hot.

And completely my type, such a fucking shame he’s an asshole.

I tried to steer clear of him mostly, then he called me in his office.

I knock on the frosted glass of his office door and wait, arms folded, lips pursed, the faintest tap of my heel filling the silence.

“Come in,” comes the deep voice from inside.

I exhale, turning the knob, and stepping in.

Tim Rockford is exactly where I expected him to be—behind his desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie loosened just enough to make it worse, eyes scanning a stack of files like they hadn’t just made eye contact.

“Jade,” he greets, glancing up for exactly two seconds before looking back down.

“Detective Rockford,” I return, flat, professional. Barely.

He gestures toward the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

I do, legs crossed, arms looser now.

“I need an extra set of hands tonight.”

I blink. “What kind of hands?”

He looks up again, brow arching. “Yours, Jade. The others are knee-deep in open cases. I need someone to review some evidence with me.”

I smirk internally, because of course he does. “I thought that you told me, and I quote, “I was as competent as musketeer riding a bicycle”?”

“I acknowledge competence when I see it.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes

He continues, eyes like granite. “You in?”

“Sure,” I shrug. “Why not ruin my evening with more murder and mayhem?” I whisper under my breath, offering a smile to him.

He doesn’t smile. Of course he doesn’t.

That night, the station is quieter. Too quiet.

We make our way down to the evidence room, a basement-level vault of fluorescent lights and aging metal shelves.

Tim walks with purpose. I follow, arms folded, trying not to stare at the way his shoulders move beneath his shirt.

“Box 472,” he mutters. “Suspected narcotics seizure. I need you to—”

I’m already pulling it out.

And then—

Pssshh—

A puff of fine white powder explodes into the air, coating my shirt, my neck, my lashes. I cough.

“Shit,” Tim growls, backing up, but it’s too late. He’s covered, too.

“What the fuck—” I gasp, trying to brush it off.

“Wash it off,” he snaps. “Now.”

We stumble into the nearest washroom, a dingy one-stall setup near the breakroom. We rinse it off, faces flushed, pulses high.

But something’s wrong.

We’re still flushed.

Breathing harder than we should be.

I grip the edge of the sink, chest heaving. “What was that stuff?”

Tim’s jaw is tight. “No idea.”

My gaze flicks to his neck. His veins. The way he’s gripping the edge of the countertop like he might break it.

“This is—” I start.

“—not normal,” he finishes.

The silence is thick.

“I can’t think,” I mutter. “Like. At all. Everything’s loud.”

He turns toward me, slowly. His pupils are blown.

We trudge back into the evidence room, the stale air thick with an invisible heat that claws at our skin like fire.

Tim doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes darken when he looks at me. He leans back against the metal shelves, arms crossed, his jaw set like a damn rock—unmoving, unyielding.

“Sierra,” he says, voice low, sharp. “Focus. We’ve got work to do.”

I shoot him a look, voice tight but defiant. “Right, because ignoring the elephant in the room is super productive.” I whisper underneath my breath.

He steps forward, closing the space between us with slow, deliberate steps. “Don’t start with me.”

I swallow, heart racing, trying not to flinch under his gaze. “Start what?”

“You know exactly what.”

His voice drops an octave, thick with something fierce and possessive. “You want me. I see it every time you look at me.”

My breath catches. “Yeah, well, you’re a pain in the ass.” I say, feeling the embers of anger gathering in me.

Tim’s smirk is ruthless. “Pain in the ass who’s going to fuck you senseless if you don’t watch yourself.”

My jaw tightens and my lower belly warms. “Try me.”

He’s on me in a heartbeat, his hand sliding to her hip, pressing hard, claiming.

“You’re mine to break, Jade. Don’t forget that.”

I bite my lip, trying to wrestle the fire burning in my veins. “We’re supposed to be working, not… whatever this is.”

He cups my chin, tilting my face up, eyes boring into mine like they’re burning a mark. “Work’s the last thing on my mind.”

I stare at him, fight and need clashing in my chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Not impossible. Just in control.”

His hand tightens on my waist, dragging me closer until I can feel every hard line of him.

“Look at this,” I try, waving a file between us, desperate for something—anything—to pull focus. “The timestamp doesn’t match the witness statement.”

Tim snatches the file, but his eyes never leave mine. “Good catch,” he murmurs, voice rough.

I swallow the lump rising in my throat. “You’re distracting me.”

His grin is dark and dangerous. “I’m doing the opposite.”

We’re circling, the room too small for the heat crackling between us.

My voice drops, shaky but bold. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to tear me apart.”

He steps closer, voice low and commanding. “Because I do.”

My breath hitches. “You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you.”

I’m caught—no, trapped—in his orbit.

“You think you’re in charge?” I challenge, voice dripping with a mixture of anger and something else, something desperate.

Tim’s hand slides from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. “I am. And you know it.”

My pulse hammers in my ears. “I fucking hate you.”

He leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Don’t I know it.”

The last thread of resistance snaps as his mouth crashes down on mine.

I melt, my claws digging into his shirt as the room spins and the world falls away—

Our tongues fight for dominance as he reaches behind me, pushing the files off the desk and picking me up, setting me on top of it.

His mouth leaves me as he trails my jaw with his mouth, leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses along it as he reaches my pulse point and sucks, nibbling on the skin there.

I let out a soft moan, my hands gripping the desk to resist the urge to run them through his hair and pull.

”Enjoying yourself, Sierra?” he asks, and I almost let out another moan at my name rolling of his tongue.

”You wish, Rockford.” I say, as I dig my hands into his soft and fluffy hair and press our lips together, dipping my tongue in his mouth, licking and sucking at his bottom lip like a cat.

”Fuck, Jade. You drive me crazy.” He breathes out, his breath brushing my lips as his hands find their way into my hair, pulling slightly, baring my throat to him as my breath hitches.

”I’ve been known to have that effect on people.” I say, a smirk spreading across my lips.

”Fucking smartass.” I feel him grin as he marks my neck, his fingers digging into my waist.

Suddenly a burning hot wave of arousal hits me and my hips buck up instinctively, an inhale escapes him too as the same seems to happen with him.

”Fuck.” he breathes as my control snaps. I push off the desk and push him on the burgundy sofa-chair as he smirks, a brow lifted, his canines glinting in the low glow of the lamp.

”You’re too slow, old man. You make me worry I’ll just have to fuck myself on your cock.” I say, a boldness unknown, flooding me.

I strip off my jeans and lean down, popping open the button of his jeans, and slowly and torturously, dragging the zipper down, the feeling of it dragging along each teeth echoing through the room.

”If you don’t hurry up, Sierra, I’ll fuck you on the goddamn floor.” he states, frustration marring his face.

I tut, “And what makes you think I’m gonna allow that, huh? I could just go home and fuck myself on my toys.” I suggest, tilting my head.

His mouth splits in a smirk he tugs me closer by my waist and starts peeling off my panties, “I know, sweetheart, but you’re too damn thirsty for my cock to settle for some toy.”

I moan as his knuckles brush my pussy lips, my cunt flooded with arousal.

My panties pool at my ankles, his finger grazes over my calves, his finger rubbing tenderly on the birth mark on my inner thigh.

His ring glints in the moonlight as he thrusts a finger into my cunt, my pussy clenching around it as I moan.

”So fucking wet,” he brings his fingers to his nose and groans, “and you smell so fucking sweet, babygirl.”

He adds another finger in my cunt, scissoring as he works me open.

He grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him and I sit on his lap, he brings the two fingers to my mouth.

”Suck.” he orders. My tongues darts out and I lick at the pad of his finger, and I swirl my tongues over it before swallowing around it and wrapping my mouth around both of his fingers, holding his eyes.

He hooks the both of them on my tongue and I moan, sucking at it and swirling my tongue around them, slicking them up and tasting the evidence of my arousal on his fingers.

”You’re sucking on it like a well-trained slut, baby. You imagining it’s my cock?” he asks and I moan around him, nodding shyly.

He takes his fingers from my mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. He attacks my mouth with his as he starts to take himself out of his boxers.

I shove my hand towards my pussy, gathering my slick and using it to slick up his cock.

His eyes meet mine as I stroke him, his mouth falling open slightly in pleasure, as I smile smugly.

He pulls me closer and positions my entrance above his cock, he looks at me, “You read-”

I slam myself down on his cock before he can finish, his words breaking off in a guttural moan. The sharp sting of the stretch soothing my buzzing mind, my head tilts back as I let out a sigh of pleasure.

His hands wind up on the buttons of my shirt as he expertly tugs them open, he throws my shirt across the room as his lips close on my nipple and suck over my bra.

I let out a needy whine at his action, my fingers pulling at his hair. He unclasps my bra, baring my tits to him as he pounces on them like a man starved. He licks and sucks on one of my nipples as he pinches and massages the other one, switching between them.

As my body screeches for more, I roll my hips, a groan escaping him and an equally erotic whimper escaping me.

His breathe feels cool on my slick nipple as I continue rolling my hips, both of us chasing our high.

”Oh my God, Tim, you feel…so fucking good.” I breathe out, taking in a shaky breath.

He groans, burying his face in my tits as I hold him impossibly closer to my chest, cradling his head in my hands, massaging his scalp. “You too, Jade. You’re so…fucking tight, fucking made for me, baby. My fucking pussy.”

I groan fastening my pace as I ride him faster, his hands digging into my hips as he guides me. I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and the furrow on his brow tells me that he is too, “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna cum all over your cock. Cum with me” I whimper out.

”Yes, Sierra. Milk my fucking cock like you’ve always wanted to.” he rumbles out as he starts thrusting up into me.

My head tilts back as I cum with a moan, I clench around him and he stills, his dick twitching in me as he spills his load deep in me.

We pant furiously, foreheads pressed together. His thumb comes up to my face and wipes away the tears that I hadn’t realized escaped. His hands feather over my face as he hooks it into my mouth, pulling my bottom lip and rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.

”I need you to tell me this wasn’t a mistake.” he says, looking at me with a vulnerability I had never noticed in the stoic man. My heart melts as my eyes well with emotion, “Fuck no, Tim. This is was the farthest thing from a mistake.” I pause, breathing heavily, “Though it was triggered by a suspicious powder that we should definitely send to the forensics to test” I reply, he laughs, shaking his head, pulling me in for a kiss.

I respond in kind kissing him back as we make out slowly, his saliva mixing with mine as our tongues dance together, pouring our emotions into the act.

He pulls away from me and I rest my face in the crook of his neck as he strokes my back. I lay there for a while, his cock still buried in me as it slowly softens, grounding myself in his touch and the distant sounds of the city as I relish in the after math of our mind blowing sex.

I smile softly, which he feels and he presses a brief and soft kiss to my mouth, bringing my hands to his lips as he brushes it over my knuckles.

A thought strikes me now that my mind is less blurry, “Wait, we still have to look at the evidence.”

He chuckles.

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋ℍ𝔸𝕋’𝕊 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕪 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝔻𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕖𝕤? 𝕐𝕖𝕤 𝔻𝕠 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖? 𝔸𝕓𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕘𝕘𝕪, 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 ℙ𝕝𝕤 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕠𝕣 𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕒 𝕌𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕪 𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤 <𝟛 𝕏𝕠, 𝕀𝕟𝕜𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖 🖤

[inkintigue]

𝐍𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐨

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <𝟹𝟹 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥. 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐀 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝-𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲—𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐭, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐍𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭... 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦. 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞? 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞? 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 “𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐨𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞” 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.

ℍ𝕖𝕪𝕪𝕪, 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕀𝕟𝕜𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠, 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕪 𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕠𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕀 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕪’𝕤 𝕕𝕒𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗. ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕒𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕? 𝔸𝕝𝕤𝕠, 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕜𝕖𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕪 𝕧𝕚𝕓𝕖𝕤, 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖. 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕓 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 — 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥. 💅🔥

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭), 𝐕𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲), 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫-𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭), 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

I knew this was a bad idea the second I agreed to it. Missy was basically vibrating with excitement once the last lecture of the day was over.

”Oh! This is gonna be so much fun, you haven’t been over in freaking ages!” she claims slipping her bag over her shoulder.

”Yeah, yeah. It’s been a while and I’ve missed you.” I reply, finishing up packing.

Moving into this small town to attend college with my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in years sounded like a great idea at the time, it was, don’t get me wrong, I just can’t believe I’d missed just how fucking hot her dad was.

It was too late to back down as we had already approached her dad’s jeep, he was in the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, his arms perfectly defined as veins run over his forearm, bulging almost temptingly.

The light scruff on his jaw and a mustache that sat snug above his lips, his intimidating aura and brooding stare made my blood rush southward.

Oh and his glasses?

Fuck

”Dad!” Missy calls, he turns to look at her, a smile tugging at his lips as he sees his daughter, his gaze softening.

”Hey, sweetheart.” he replies, “Dad, you remember Stelle, right?” she asks, turning to look at me.

His gaze shifts to me, and I think I hallucinate his gaze dragging down my body briefly before it snaps back to me.

A friendly smile spreads through his face, “Yeah of course, Mr. Ashby’s daughter, right? He called and told me you were in town.”

I return the smile, “Yeah, she’s coming over for a sleepover, is that fine, dad?” asks Missy.

”Yeah, of course it is, come on, get in, girls.”

Yep, that’s how we first met after I came to the town. It was nice. Innocent.

Aside from my horny ass, he was respectful, kept a distance.

Until…I needed a job to pay for the sudden increase in rent for my apartment.

”You should take it, Stelle. I’m not offering anything for free, so don’t go feeling all guilty on me now. Plus, I think you’re a great fit for it.” finishes Marcus.

You know what else I’m a great fit for?

”I don’t know, Mr. Moreno, I don’t want to make you feel like you have t-” I start

”Darling. Take it, you want me to beg?” he asks, a quirk in his eyebrow.

Yes, please. Fucking beg-

I chuckle, trying to dispel my awkward energy, as I nod, “Yeah, alright, I’ll take it, thank you, Mr. Moreno.”

”There’s nothing to thank me about, sweetheart.” he says as he leaves the diner and I grip the counter to keep my horny bitches at bay.

Everything was relatively smooth after that, the first day went really well.

Working as Mr. Moreno’s PA was easy. He was a hardworking man—focused, efficient, demanding in that calmly devastating way that made my stomach twist in knots.

And god, he looked unfairly good behind a desk.

Sometimes he’d take off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to the elbows, forearms flexing. Other times, he’d lean back in his leather chair, eyes scanning me from under thick lashes while pretending to read something on his monitor. Pretending, because I could feel it—that awareness. That slow, intentional nothing that men like him do just to see if you'll squirm.

I tried not to.

I also failed.

Most days ended with me flustered and tense, my thighs clenched under the desk, cheeks flushed like I’d run a mile. He never touched me. Never said anything inappropriate. But that was what made it worse. Because I knew he knew.

One Friday evening, I stayed back to finish some filing. The office was quiet, the rest of the office staff long gone, and the only sound was the occasional scribble of a pen and the dull whirr of the ceiling fan above.

“Still here?” His voice came from the doorway, lower, scratchier at the end of the day.

I looked up and my heart fucking stuttered. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a sliver of chest. His belt was loosened, his glasses off. His hair slightly mussed like he’d run a hand through it one too many times.

It was unfair.

“Just finishing up the invoices,” I said, too quickly, my voice not nearly as casual as I wanted.

He stepped in, boots heavy against the old wooden floors, and perched himself on the edge of the desk—not mine, his. The one I’d organized to perfection that morning.

He glanced down at the neatly stacked folders and then back at me. “You’re a damn perfectionist.”

I shrugged, not trusting myself to say anything coherent when he was this close.

He leaned forward, just slightly. “You always work this hard for everyone, or just me?”

That.

That wasn’t innocent.

And I didn’t answer right away, because I couldn’t breathe for a second. Because my thighs pressed tighter, and my mouth went dry, and all I could do was look at the way his veins curved up his forearms, at the shadow of his jaw, at his mouth.

My silence stretched.

He tilted his head, slow and knowing.

I swallowed.

He smirked—slow, devastating—like a man who just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar but decided to make you pay for it with something far filthier than embarrassment.

Then he said, voice low enough to make my knees weak:

“I don’t think you even realize what you’re asking for.”

He didn’t move closer. Not yet. Just watched me squirm.

The weight of his stare made my skin buzz, every nerve suddenly aware of how tightly I was gripping the edge of the desk, how shallow my breathing had become, how much I wanted him to close the distance and ruin me.

But he didn’t.

He wanted me to break first.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Marcus murmured, voice like velvet-draped gravel. “Where’s that smart mouth you always use when you’re not thinking about how I’d sound between your legs?”

My breath hitched.

He knew.

He fucking knew.

“You think I don’t see how you watch me? The way your eyes drop every time I loosen this—”

He tugged his belt slowly, the quiet click of the buckle echoing in the office—

“—or roll my sleeves up? You think I don’t know how many times you’ve left here needing to get yourself off before you sleep?”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Just watched, wide-eyed, thighs clenching.

He leaned forward finally, resting his hands on either side of my chair, caging me in without touching.

His scent—leather, aftershave, man—wrapped around me like a noose.

“You’re wound up so tight, darling. And I’ve been so fucking good…”

His breath ghosted over my cheek.

“...but you’ve been asking for this with every shy look, every stuttered ‘yes, sir,’ every time you bent over that desk like a good little tease.”

My breath was shaky now. I looked up at him, and for a second, there was nothing but raw hunger in his eyes.

Then—

“Stand up,” he said, low and firm.

I obeyed. Immediately.

He smirked again—darker now, like he’d won something.

“Good girl.”

The words made me ache.

He walked behind me, slow and measured, until I felt the warmth of him at my back. His palm slid up my spine, fingers dragging across the fabric of my shirt before settling at the nape of my neck.

“Bend over the desk.”

I did.

The cool surface met my skin as I braced my hands in front of me. My heart pounded loud and wild as his hands ran down my sides, thumbs pressing into my hips possessively.

“You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this,” he muttered. “Bent over my desk, dripping, obedient, fucking mine.”

Then he tugged my skirt up—slowly, almost reverently—and I heard the catch in his breath.

“No panties?” he asked, voice gone rough.

“No,” I whispered, heat rushing to my face.

He let out a soft, filthy groan.

“Jesus fuck, you really were asking for it.”

His thumb swipes through my folds as I let out a pathetic whimper.

”So fucking wet. This all for me, darling? I get you all worked up?” he questions, in mock sympathy.

I couldn’t help but take in a sharp inhale and nodding fervently, my pussy pulsing.

He’s quite behind me for a minute, my frustration bubbling over, that at this point I’d take out his cock and ride him myself.

He holds both my wrists in one hand tightly, the sudden movement making me shiver as hot arousal gushes between my folds.

I feel him kneel behind me, at eye-level with my pussy as his breath fans over my cunt.

His free hand spreads my folds, baring me to him, “All this,” he places a soft kiss to my throbbing cunt, “is mine.” he states as he runs his tongue over my entrance, pulling a shuddering moan from me as he breaks my pussy open with his tongue.

He laps up my juices like a starved man, every stroke of his tongue pulling me closer and closer towards ecstasy.

He pushes a finger in my entrance, my pussy clenching around it, “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking tight, you gonna strangle my cock when I fuck you, hon?”

”Oh, Marcus…” I moan as his fingers brush against my G-Spot.

”Yeah, darling. Moan my name while I fuck you with my fingers.”, his words help bring me dangerously close to the edge.

I try to wiggle out of his firm grip so that I can grip his hair and ride his face, finding my orgasm that he’s delaying.

He holds me tighter, giving my hands a warning squeeze. “Be a good girl, or you don’t get what you want.”, I bite my lip, controlling myself. “Please…” I whisper, and if I was in my right mind, I’d slap myself for how pathetic I sounded.

”Please what, Estelle?” he asks, his lips brushing over my cunt as his finger stays buried in my pussy, unmoving.

”Please let me cum.” his fingers twitch ever so slightly and I gasp softly, “Please let me cum, what?” he asks, stopping his ministrations completely.

”Please let me cum, sir.” I reply, resisting the urge to whine like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

”Atta-girl,” he says as he starts moving his finger stroking my walls as they spasm around it. His tongue finds it’s way to my entrance as he brings me to my orgasm with his tongue and fingers.

He removes his mouth from me and asks, “Think you can take another darling?”, “Please…” I whisper, hoping it’s an answer enough.

He adds a second finger and it brushes my G-spot and my walls close tighter around them, and I know that I’m close, “Marcus, I’m-”

”I know baby, cum for me, cum all over my face.” he says as he laps at my pussy, fingering me harder.

His words tip me over the edge as I cum with a cry, I pant heavily as he continues lapping at me, licking at my cum like it’s what he was born to do.

The stimulation from his mouth on my pussy and my orgasm that just left me, I was bordering the line of overstimulation.

I start to whimper helplessly, he places a final open-mouthed kiss over my fluttering cunt as he stands up, planting his hands over my ass and spinning me around.

He places me on top of the desk, our foreheads pressed together as we pant heavily.

He brushes my hair away from my sweaty face as he undoes the loose bun, my hair cascading down my back in waves, holding the back of my head, stroking my cheek with his thumb tenderly.

”Are you ok?” he asks, out of breath, still panting.

”Y-Yeah.” I reply, equally breathless.

I look up at him through my lashes, my eyes glassy and my bottom lip in between my teeth.

He rumbles lowly as he crashes my mouth to his, a gasp escaping me.

He uses the gap of my surprise to force his tongue into my mouth as his hands travel to the nape of my neck and the other to my waist as he tastes my mouth.

The taste of my arousal mixed with his saliva makes me let out a soft moan, he pulls me impossibly closer, and I’m sure they’ll be bruises the next morning the shape of his fingers.

My hands start to wander, finding the hair at the nape of his neck as I pull softly, making him let out a groan that I swallow with my mouth.

One of my hands stay on his neck, playing with the strands of hair, his mouth wrecking my lips, my other hand travels downwards and settle on his belt buckle, pulling him closer, the clink echoing through the room, he chuckles, “Getting impatient now, are we, princess?”

”Mhm…” I reply as I push him away slightly by his shoulder, I stand up and start undoing his belt. I take it off, discarding it on the desk and my fingers brush the hardness protruding from his dress pants, he shudders and captures my wrist, his other hand coming up to tilt my chin to meet his eyes.

”What do you want, princess?” he asks, his gaze darkened.

”You know what…” I say, a blush creeping up my neck.

”Maybe, but why don’t you use your pretty little mouth and tell me.” he says leaning in, his lips brushing mine with every word.

I feel a sudden surge of boldness as I lean in and bite his lower lip, sucking on it slightly as I say, “I want to suck your cock, please sir.”

”Get on your knees, baby.” he says, his voice like deep gravel.

I obey him, maintaining eye contact as I drop to my knees, at eye-level with his crotch. His hand rests on the back of my head as his voice drops to impossibly low octaves, “Go on.” he says, nodding at me.

I get to work as I slowly undo his pant zipper and take it off, his hand massaging my scalp through it.

Saliva pools in my mouth as I see the outline of his dick in his boxers. I place a few open-mouthed kisses over it through the fabric. A low groan from him makes my pussy pulse.

I take off his boxers, his cock springing free.

Ok, he’s big.

I choose to ignore the intimidating size of his manhood as I place soft kisses on his angry tip, licking my way up and down his length, the deliciously salt tang of pre-cum collecting on my tongue.

I stop at the base and drag my tongue on the underside of him, as he shudders. Pride floods through me at the sight of Marcus Moreno, intimidating CEO, my best friend’s dad, at my mercy.

I had a thought of teasing him more, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t like that, and I wanted to make him feel good.

I close my mouth around his tip as he takes an inhale, “That’s it, good girl.”, he praises as I take him in deeper, my mouth stretching but the burn and his praise making my cunt clench around nothing.

His hand tightens in my hair, “There you go, yes. Sucking on my cock like that’s what you’re meant to do. You like that, huh?”

I whimper, hoping he gets my answer, and he seems to as he smirks, and tilts his head back in bliss as I start swirling my tongues around him and pump with my hands where I cannot reach with my mouth.

His hips buck up unconsciously and I can tell he’s holding back, I reach my hand around to his hips and encourage him to fuck my face.

He seems to realize what I want as he chuckles and groans at once, “Oh sweetheart, you want me to fuck your face like the good little slut you are?” he asks.

I whimper helplessly, my pussy spasming at his praise and degradation.

”Yeah, that’s exactly what you want. My good little girl.” he says as he puts both his hands on my hair as he bucks his hips up.

My other hand hand snakes under my skirt and I rub my clit furiously, whimpering and moaning around his cock.

”Look at you, princess. Touching yourself while I fuck your face like you were starving for it.” he states with thrust after thrust as drool drips down my chin, my tears mixing with them.

He wipes at my cheeks and coos, “It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m almost done.”, his words reignite my fire as I bob my head up and down his cock, rubbing my clit as I feel his dick twitching in my throat.

”I gotta pull out, honey, I’m close.” his eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration.

I place my hands on his hips, keeping him in and let out a disheartening moan, wanting to taste him.

His hands continue massaging my scalp as he thrusts into my face, chasing his high, “My dirty girl,” he groans as he cums deep in my throat.

A bit of cum slips out of my mouth and starts dripping down my chin, I release his cock from my mouth with a pop as I gather his cum from my chin with my thumb and suck on it.

He seems to catch that and groans like he can’t help it. He picks me up off the ground and my legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to the sofa.

His mouth captures mine as he devours my body and soul whole.

He places me down on the sofa as he kneels before me, he picks up my leg and works on taking my heel off, he unclasps it with precision as he kisses the sole of my feet, and takes off my other heel, giving it the same treatment.

I surge forward, my fingers weaving through his hair as I pull him closer and crash out lips together like I can’t get enough of him.

My fingers make quick work of his shirt buttons as his fingers keep caressing my inner wrists, I shove his shirt of his body as my eyes take in his toned and slightly built body.

He tilts my chin up and places a kiss on my forehead as he pulls at the slip of ribbon holding my blouse together, and my top falls open, baring my half naked skin to him.

I massage the hair at the back of his neck as I try to control my breathing, he discards the blouse somewhere on the floor as he reaches behind me and unclasps my bra in one fluid motion.

Discarding my bra, he stares at my tits and runs his thumb over my nipple like a man who knows what he’s doing and knows how to make a woman crumble.

A shudder slips past me as he grins smugly. He latches onto my neck, licking, sucking and marking greedily, his hands close around my nipple and massages my tits, making me let out a symphony of moans.

”So fucking perfect.” he whispers, stating with a harsh pinch to my nipple that goes straight to my core.

He leans down, capturing my sensitive bud in his mouth as he runs his tongue over it and sucks.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I let out a shaky exhale, my fingers gripping tighter at his hair, he groans in response, nibbling at my nipple and turns to give my other breast the same amount of attention.

”M-Marcus,” I whisper, “Yeah, princess?”

”Please fuck me.” I grit out desperately.

He chuckles, “With fucking pleasure.”

He lays me down on the sofa as he sheds off his half-way down jeans and boxers and gets on top of me.

He kisses me, soft and sloppily.

He kisses along my jaw, sucking and nibbling gently.

He presents his hand in front of me, “Spit.”, he commands, I do so without questions and he uses my spit as lube to slick up his dick.

He positions himself at my entrance, “Wait, bab-”

”I’m safe, and I’m on the pill, please I need to feel you, Marcus.” I reply before he finishes

He chuckles softly at my impatience, “I’m safe too, baby. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.”

I bite my lip to prevent a pathetic whimper as he slowly enters his tip into me, the sharp sting that accompanies him working me open with his cock is soothed by the sweet nothing he whispers in my ear.

”More,” I whisper as the pain starts giving way to pleasure, he slowly pushes in at my signal, eventually bottoming out.

We both breath heavily, our breaths mingling together, taking a moment to relish the fact that he’s in me, he kisses me softly and starts to thrust in slowly and he groans as I whimper.

”Just like I imagined, so fucking tight and wet, baby. I’m never leaving this perfect little hole.” he grits out, thrusting harder and reaching spots deep in me.

I whimper, “How long have you imagined me, Mr. Moreno?” I ask, biting my lip to form a sentence without moaning.

He chuckles, “Back to formalities again, Estelle? Pretty sure you were screaming my name a few minutes ago.”

I clench around him at the memory and we let out a sound of pleasure in sync, I pull him closer by the neck, our lips brushing together, “That doesn’t answer my question, Mr. Moreno. How long have you been imagining fucking me?”

He chuckles, probably intrigued by my sudden boldness which even I don’t know where it came from, “Ever since I saw you that day on campus in that tight little skirt and your shy smile, just waiting and begging for me to ruin you. And that day at the diner, I just wanted to take you against the counter then and there, princess.”

I let out a soft gasp at his obscene words and I moan like a well-paid whore, “Faster, Marcus, please.” I beg, biting into my lips so hard I was afraid I might draw blood.

He starts thrusting faster and deeper at an inhuman pace as I feel my orgasm coming and he feels it too, “Cum on my cock, baby. Give it to me.” he rumbles out as he drives into me.

I cum with a loud cry and I’ve never been more grateful for the office being empty until right now.

”That’s it. My perfect fucking girl.” he states as he drives into me, chasing his high as he cums too, shooting hot ropes of cum deep in my cunt.

We stay like that for a moment, his cock acting like a plug for his cum as it stays buried in my pussy, as we come down from our high, he pulls out and I wince at the lack of being filled and he groans at the sight of his cum leaking from my pussy.

He leans in to kiss me sloppily and we lay there, out noses brushing, my stomach grumbles and I giggle, as he looks at me and smiles softly, leaning in to kiss my nose. ”You want to get dinner, princess?”.

𝕆𝕜𝕒𝕪, 𝕪’𝕒𝕝𝕝, 𝕨𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕚𝕥. 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕪, 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 ’𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀’𝕧𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 — 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕪, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕨𝕜𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤. 𝔸𝕝𝕤𝕠, 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕡 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕙 𝕠𝕟 “𝕕𝕒𝕕” 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖𝕤… 𝕀 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕫𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕓𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪. 𝕀 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤, 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥'𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣, 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪. ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤! 💖✌️