For those who are here for the Wes content... friendly reminder that I have four fics (+ a blurb!) for him. I even just finished making moodboards for each of them!
Breakfast Run: (GN!Reader) Reader went for a breakfast run and came back with 6 new friends.
NSFW, 18+ ONLY BELOW
Bell the Cat: (Fem!Reader) Wes meets a girl dressed as a cat at a Halloween party and decides to tame her.
Baby Fever: (Fem!Reader) Wes wants to help you with your baby fever.
Baby It’s Cold Outside: (Fem!Reader) Wes has a rule about not dating coworkers. Well… had a rule.
Bound (Blurb): (AFAB!Reader) Wes gets a new collar.
Am I just making this post so I can end up back in the tags to reach new fans? Mind your business. But also - hi new fans! I'm considering writing another fic for him sometime this month (based on S2), so let me know if you're interested.
If you're interested in other characters, feel free to check out my Other MGG Characters Masterlist here!
I'm also considering making a masterlist of people who have/do/will write for Wes. If you are one of these people, please let me know!
Since the damned sun rose over the sill of your window you had been in a sour mood. Waking up and
looking in the mirror only to see your hair in complete disarray wasn’t any help to your dampened outlook. Your coffee tasted bitter, the toast dry, traffic seemed to feel comfy with it's foot up your ass and to top it all off once you finally arrived at the office every person in the building appeared to need something from you. Favor upon favor later you finally sat down at your desk. Preparing to finally!! get some work done.
Seconds later a mop of hair and a bright, toothy grin fell carelessly in front of your monitor, the back of your chair jolting back from your intruder's weight as he leaned over your head into your eye-line.
"Hey (y/n) So I have this really cool idea on what-"
Your eye twitched as you raised your head to look him in the eye. Normally the mere mention of the man would make your heart flutter and tie your stomach into knots even Houdini couldn't manage his way out of. But today you just wanted to play an exaggerated version of whack-a-mole with your coworker's heads or at least be alone.
But you listened patiently before excusing yourself to get a cup of coffee and a drop of sanity from the office kitchen. What you didn't notice was the way Wes's eyes followed after you on your trek to the kitchen, his footsteps trailing soon after.
Opening the fridge begrudgingly you jumped when Wes wedged himself into your view.
"So, what do you think about what I said earlier. Also, do you maybe want to grab lunch with me-"
"Wes." You missioned a dead-eye stare his way as you growled out your words.
"Move before I slam the door."
Widened eyes greeted you before he jumped out of the way; caught off guard by the quick switch in tone.
"Uh"
"Look, I'm having a rough day, and frankly if you could just leave me alone for five fucking minutes that would be so wonderful."
"Well I'm sorry for wanting to spend time with you"
His voice met your ears defensively. Your flat stare was all that he got as a response, you yourself were trying desperately to hide the fact that your heart melted at his words.
"We are in a building full of people you could easily talk to. Give me 10 minutes to my own okay? And then we'll brainstorm."
"But I don't want to talk to them I want to talk with you."
You were struck mute by his casual way of saying something that heartfelt.
“Um. I-I Uh”
The distinct sound of chair wheels rolling throughout the hallways stole your attention from the gamer that towered over you. Looking in the direction of the sound you instead noticed Mari was hiding behind a corner at the edge of the kitchen staring in at the scene Wes had just unknowingly manifested.
But she was standing with no wheely chair in sight, so she wasn’t what you had heard; although that definitely explained the quiet giggling you’d dismissed earlier.
The sound got louder as elated, rampant shouting joined it. Suddenly Mari was nearly knocked off her feet by a barrage of desk chairs adjourned by your coworkers and friends of smosh games. You laughed at their antics but were cut off by Mari chewing them out.
“You guys ruined it! Wes was just about to confess!”
Your eyes widened as you shifted your gaze to your office crush of the last few years.
“He was?” Joven cut you off with shock of his own. Sure he’d known about your guys' annoyingly sweet romance but figured neither of you had the balls to ever say something.
“You were?” Your questioned followed Joven’s seamlessly as you stared at the man you’d come to care for.
“Was I?” he tore his stare off of you and looked questioningly at Mari.
“Yes, dumbass. Now do it!” she stared on expectantly.
“Um..” he trailed off awkwardly followed by a forced cough in an attempt to hint at his friends to gtfo give him some privacy.
“Really? Oh, come on! Ok, fine. We’ll go, we’ll go.”
As they filtered out of the room you stared at him expectantly, still unsure of the unfamiliar emotional territory.
Quickly enough you realized your own stupidity. You had been waiting for him to make the first move this entire time and it was about time you actually took a step. More specifically a step towards him as you pressed your chest against his and melded your lips against his own. Fourth of July exploded in your stomach, casualties: 1. Your heart.. Okay, that was sickeningly cheesy but nonetheless, you sighed against him when he kissed you back. You stared at him when you pulled away, trying not to laugh at the way he trailed after you with half-lidded eyes.
This was the start of something unexplainably sweet.. And you couldn’t ask for better.
Summary: Wes wants to help you with your baby fever.
Request: Wes with a breeding kink?
Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Breeding kink, impregnation fantasy, unprotected sex, pregnancy talk, fingering, established relationship
Word Count: 3k
MASTERLIST
There was something special about the Springtime. If it weren’t for the pollen and loss of an hour of sleep, I might even dare to say that the season was perfect. In the very least, it was in the running for a comparable position to Autumn.
Of all the things to love about the season, though, my favorite was days like this. The sun hung happily in the sky, perfectly caressing the tiniest little faces. Puppies and kittens jumped at the opportunity to meet someone new, to fall in love with the future as it toddled over to pick them from the pack. I couldn’t help but stare at them with wonder, living vicariously through cheery, blissful smiles of every variety of little ones.
If my boyfriend had noticed, he certainly said nothing of it. Of course, he was a bit busy trying to manage the dozens of mewling creatures and naive fingers reaching through cages.
The sight of him, surrounded by new life that he somehow always handled delicately, stirred something inside of me. I watched how the others were charmed by him. I saw the way they smiled at him and I wondered what it would be like to carry some part of him with me. To create something with the gold of his eyes and the sweetness of his lips.
My attention was torn between him and the polaroid pictures that sat on my lap from the day. Every now and then, I swore I’d heard him chuckle, but I was never quick enough to catch him in the act. Regardless, Wes must have grown tired of my silent yearning by the time we pulled into the driveway, because he wasted no more time ripping me from my reverie.
“Baby fever?”
The sound of his voice shook me more than the words, and I reacted on instinct by blurting out a curt, guilty, “What?”
But then the words sunk in, and my face began to burn with embarrassment and something else.
Wes seemed pleased by the reaction. I couldn’t be certain, but I was fairly sure based purely on the way his hand settled on my thigh just above my knee. His finger slipped just beneath the hem, teasing out goosebumps that were worsened by the way his voice grew darker.
“Of which variety?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. I might have gotten away with it, too, if I hadn’t been stupid enough to look him in the eyes. I immediately became stuck in pools of honey and longing that rivaled my own.
“No?” he mocked, “What a shame. Here I was willing to offer my help.”
It was a trap I would fall for every time.
“Really? How?”
His fingers slid over skin slightly slick from sunscreen and excitement, dipping between my legs as he whispered close enough that I could feel it on my cheeks, “However you want.”
My only response was a whimper. It was the only thing I could trust myself to do other than opening my legs to accommodate his hand. But it became obvious to me that he didn’t intend to give me what I wanted just yet. No, he was continuing his trend of teasing me. His knuckles brushed over now underwear that quickly dampened in response to his ministrations.
“That tension you’re feeling right now must be unbearable,” he grumbled, adding more pressure to his fingers and his voice as he continued, “I feel it, too.”
Still not trusting myself to speak without begging, I resorted to communicating through my body language. My hips rocked gently against his hand and I felt his breath stutter the hungrier that my own became. The windows of the car were already fogging up, and I tried to stay looking at him and hoped that he would hear the pleas among my panting.
But it was Wes who spoke first, desperate and broken as he cried, “Let me help you.”
“Please,” I whined back immediately, “Help me.”
I’d never seen him leave a car faster than he did in that moment. While it hurt to lose his hand between my thighs, I knew that it would be worth it. I chased after my suddenly giddy boyfriend, laughing as he almost shut the door in his haste to beat me to the bedroom. Once we were safe behind the door, I turned to him with an attempt at a serious tone.
“Listen, Wes, I—“
Unfortunately, the words died against his mouth. With his whole body pressed against mine, he basically tackled me onto the bed. I tried to laugh, but it was hard to make any noise that wasn’t pure praise when his hands were tearing at zippers and cloth to try and strip me faster.
“You what?” he said between heavy breaths.
But any conversation could be had later. It seemed impossible to talk casually anymore when he pulled his shirt over his head and let his pants drop to the floor. Some part of him must not have liked my shameless ogling of his almost bare body, because the next time his hands found me, he stretched one over my jaw and pressed until my lips pursed.
“Speak,” he ordered.
“I want you,” were the only words that came to mind.
It wasn’t that my confession wasn’t appreciated — Wes clearly enjoyed the sentiment judging by the way his very obvious erection jumped at the thought — but he clearly meant something else. Something that he’d hinted at in the car but seemed bashful about now that we were close to actually achieving it.
“Tell me what we’re doing right now,” he croaked, crawling over me until our faces were almost together again. He hung there, with eyes full of love and longing that I was tempted to drown myself in. He audibly swallowed, softening his palm against my cheek and transferring the roughness back to his tone when he said, “Because I want to, but I need to know.”
Suddenly, the seriousness in his tone hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart, which had been pounding at a steady rate, became absolutely intolerable with its chaos.
“A-Are you asking...”
Wes just stared back at me and pressed his erection harder against my leg. I also found myself unable to finish the sentence, but that look in his eyes confirmed everything for me. We’d talked about having kids before, several times, really, but I’d never considered that he would actually be ready for it so soon.
“I mean... in theory, yes, it’s possible. It’s unlikely, but—“
“Are you willing to take that risk?” he interjected, his hand tracing the curves of my waist and hips like he was trying to touch me without poisoning my consideration. He kept himself at a distance, refusing to cross the last few lines that would bring us together until he was certain that I wouldn’t regret it.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
Although he smiled at my shy little nod, he maintained his more mature demeanor for a little while longer.
“Do you understand what I’m asking you?”
I nodded again, slower as I felt his fingers hook underneath my underwear. The fact he was doing something so distracting told me that he had returned to his usual teasing, but that didn’t make it any more bearable. Especially not when he finally succeeded in pulling off my underwear and tossed it to the side.
That sneaky bastard waited until he slipped two fingers inside of me before he whispered in my ear, “I want you to have my child.”
I continued to nod, although it was truly more of a nuzzle against his cheek. The sting of his stubble kept me grounded as his fingers tried their hardest to break me. Through the warbling, guttural moan that followed, I managed to say the two words he seemed to be waiting for:
“I understand.”
He removed his fingers, and while I whimpered at the loss, I was happy to see him finally removing the last remaining barrier. Once his boxers were off, his next movements were quick and practiced. Wes grabbed hold of my ankles and dragged me across the bed.
He didn’t stop until my ankles rested on his shoulders and the head of his cock was pressed just between my folds. I immediately started to squirm, but I had absolutely no traction on the silky sheets. He’d made sure I couldn’t do anything but look up at him and whine.
“Beg me to do it,” he said with the utmost nonchalance, as if I were asking him to do something he had every intention of doing whether I asked him or not, “Beg me to help you.”
I wondered which one of us wanted it more, but then decided it didn’t matter.
“P-Please, Wes,” I gasped as I managed to roll my hips to take in another inch of him, “Please, fuck me.”
He tried to keep his cool, but he failed spectacularly the second he moved and found no resistance.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he groaned before running his hands over my thighs, grabbing hold of my hips and forcing himself to the hilt inside of me.
I wanted to be more sophisticated in my pleading, to offer him the same salacious language that came so easily to him, but it seemed impossible. My words were blubbered between broken recitation of his name and a pathetic plea of, “Please, help me. Please.”
Luckily, Wes didn’t mind my repetition.
“I love the way that word sounds on your tongue.”
“Please,” I repeated again until a sharp pain shot through my lower half and I yelped, “plea—ah!”
The cry made him pause, but it was obvious he already knew what was going on. That’s why he kept his dick pressed against my cervix, gently rolling his hips to get me used to the sensation.
“Shhh. It’s okay,” he cooed as he held my hips down to stop them from instinctively moving away from the intrusion.
The feeling of his nails dug into my skin sparked an entirely new fire in my loins. Because I couldn’t shy away from the fact of what we were doing. That he was trying his hardest to ensure that our fantasies came to life. He held me down against him, taunting that future in front of me and showing me that he was more than ready to do whatever it took to make it real. He could be so harsh, so in control, but still he stopped to press a kiss to my ankle.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I knew he genuinely cared about my answer.
Unfortunately, I was in no state to give him anything other than yet another enthusiastic nod. It succeeded in eliciting a delirious chuckle from the both of us, which did comfort him enough to allow him to move again.
“Of course you are,” he purred, “You were made for this.”
He chose a slow pace, drawing out the sensations as my body came to terms with my wishes. The longer he spoke about it, the harder my body resisted his leaving. My back was arching, chasing after him every time he tried to leave.
His eyes were laser focused on my stomach, although they would occasionally make their way to my chest, tracing the outline of my breasts the way he clearly wanted his hands to do. But they couldn’t, and instead he settled for pressing one hand over my belly button before pressing down.
“Do you feel that?” he laughed, the sound almost cruel as the space inside of me seemed nonexistent, filled entirely with him, “How fucking deep inside of you I am?”
“Yes,” I called when he started to leave. My body hardly let him, my walls gripping him like a vice and my legs trembling to try and buck harder against him.
“Do you feel how badly your body is begging for me to fill you up?”
“Yes!” I cried louder. I threw my head back among the pillows, but I could still hear his laughter taunting me. It grew closer as he folded me in half, lowering my ankles to his elbows and lifting my lower back from the bed.
“You thought the fantasies would be enough, but your body knows,” he hummed. When I was about to answer, he thrust into me hard enough to take the breath from my lungs. Each frantic, desperate breath I sucked in was stolen away the same way, leaving me sobbing and whining for something more.
Something he wanted to give me.
“It knows, just like it knows that I can give you what you want.”
Despite the gruff, grumbly nature of his voice when he ground out the words, there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he was touching me. He fucked me hard, but he still found a way to kiss me gently. Our tongues tied together, and his scruffy cheeks creating a perfect friction to mirror the tension forming between my legs.
“Say it,” he begged once our lips had enough room to make the words.
I waited until our eyes met, burning with an overwhelming intensity. I felt the world around us melt away, our bodies melding together to create something new.
Because that was… exactly what we were doing.
“Please. Give me a baby,” I whispered, surprising myself with happy tears pooling at my lashes before I pleaded, “I want to have your baby, Wes.”
Everything about him changed in that moment. His lips met mine so carefully. Any feigned arrogance faded away, replaced only with a painful amount of adoration. A pure, saccharine affection that drew me to him in the first place. That heavenly honeyed smile broke our lips apart again, and although he could barely talk, he continued to force the words out with each thrust.
“Fuck, yes, I want to give it to you. Gonna show— fuck — show everyone that you’re mine.”
If my legs could move, they would have wound further around him. But instead they just froze within his embrace before breaking out in trembling waves of tension. I cried out his name and other sweet nothings, but I couldn’t hear them over the sounds of pounding hearts and skin slapping through the slick.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he barely managed to ask.
That time when I nodded, I grabbed hold of his face to watch the way his pupils dilated when I answered, “Do it.”
Wes had no problem following my directions. When his cock pressed against my cervix that time, I again cried out from the pain, but it was quickly quelled by the feel of warm, thick fluid coating my insides. My jaw was stuck open, but Wes still kissed each lip like he was afraid the smallest touch might shatter me.
He didn’t seem at all worried about the effect his word would have on me, though. When we were both at the height of orgasm, he laid one more soft kiss against my cheeks before he spoke, low and proud.
“This is what it feels like… to be truly satisfied.”
The words stuck with me, repeating on loop until I managed to finally catch my breath. Wes lowered my legs even more carefully than he’d kissed me, but first took the time to prop my hips up with a pillow. When he heard my chuckle in response, he returned to that seriousness from before, although there was a hint of my playful boy within it.
“Stay still,” he ordered, and I gave a tired nod before I closed my eyes.
The last thing I expected was to feel his fingers between my legs. I immediately jumped, and his other hand forced my hips back down like he’d been expecting it.
“I just told you to stay still,” he casually reminded. But it was sort of hard to pay attention to his orders when he was gathering the semen that had started to drip out of me and shoved it back in with two of his fingers.
“W-What are you doing?” I breathlessly called.
I couldn’t have ever prepared myself for the answer, nor the devilish little smirk he wore when he said it.
“I am… increasing my odds.”
Then, with two fingers still inside of me, Wes pressed his thumb hard against my clit. With each small circle, his other fingers beckoned to me.
“Fuck!” I cursed as he drew a second orgasm out of me with barely any effort, and I wondered if he had been right — if there was ever any coming back from this. If I’d ever be satisfied without the taboo and the risk.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it happen,” he uttered between chaste kisses against my cheek that continued long after my legs stopped shaking. Eventually, the happy hums shifted back to words whispered in my ear.
“You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”
I let the praise sink in, along with the reality of what we’d done. Wes kept his hand firmly on my lower stomach, his thumb continuing circles that were now more comforting than erotic.
“W-What now?” I asked, scared that when I looked at him, I’d find something resembling regret.
But I didn’t. In fact, I’d never seen him quite as calm and content as he was right then.
“Now we wait,” he answered vaguely.
“For what?”
He smiled, and I realized that I’d fallen straight into yet another trap he’d laid for me. Inching impossibly closer to me, Wes granted me one last kiss filled with nothing but unadulterated love. But when he pulled away, he took my bottom lip between his teeth for a second longer.
“I’m not done with you yet tonight,” he whispered before adding on an even more delicious threat, “And depending on what happens after that... I might just not be done with you for a while.”
“I can’t wait,” I answered with a little sweep of my tongue over my lips. Wes took it as a request for a hungrier kiss that he was more than happy to provide.
His hand smoothed over my stomach again, drawing out a happy, bubbly little giggle from my chest. The joy it brought to his eyes was familiar; it was the same look I’d given him that started this whole mess.
And I realized for the first time how much he meant it when he replied, “Me either.”
Summary: Reader and Wes bond over mistletoe and spend a wintry night together.
A/N: This is technically a holiday fic, but only Mistletoe and Baby, It’s Cold Outside are referenced, so everyone can enjoy!
Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Marking, biting, bruising, fingering, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 6.3k
MASTERLIST
Traditions are interesting things. From barely held-together ornaments hanging on carefully curated fir trees to curling up with a cup of hot chocolate to watch the same old movies despite knowing all the words by heart, the holidays were the perfect time to exercise the bounds of age-old traditions. Some were more interesting than others. This season I was particularly fixated on the Saturnalian tradition pertaining to suspended shrubbery.
Mistletoe, the twig and berries meant to represent love, peace, and… well, some other, more lewd things. It’s questionable backstory aside, I decided to focus on the first of the things: love.
Because traditions aren’t unique to the holidays, and you needn’t look further than our company break room to see what I mean. Every single morning, without fail, one resident veterinarian would stumble in with only half-brushed bedhead and make a beeline for the coffee machine.
This time, though, he would find an extra obstacle in his way before he could make it to his beloved beverage. Hung just above the pot, dangling rather obviously from the cabinet, was a small bundle of berries. And next to those berries was me, idling around the kitchenette and waiting for opportunity to strike.
Of course, when Wes walked in, his response was about what I expected. While he did almost make it all the way to the pot, he’d stopped just before he could be considered under the mistletoe, turning to look at me with a mischievous little glint that was just begging for me to join him.
So, I did, gliding over and pouring myself another cup like there wasn’t an ulterior motive to my existing in that space with him.
I’d expected the story to end there, with him teasing my blatant attempts at flirting as nothing but harmless fun. But to my genuine surprise, Wes put his hand over mine on the handle of the pot before he took one very purposeful step forward, placing the two of us squarely under the branch together.
It wasn’t the action that made my heart skip a beat, although it certainly didn’t help its already panicked pace, it was the way he looked at me as he stood there. Our chests were pressed against each other and our hands still together as he challenged me with nothing but a smirk and narrowed eyes.
I couldn’t let him get away with it, though. Not after all the work I’d put in so far. Standing just a little bit taller, I leaned ever so slightly forward while I managed to whisper with just a little bit of pride, “Caught you.”
Again, Wes caught me off guard with absolutely no fight to his words. Instead, a soft and still sleepy, “Why, yes you did.”
But then his devilish playfulness kicked in seconds later, and he started to close the gap between us much faster than before.
“What are you going to do now?” he asked through a wicked grin, “Kiss me?”
For a moment, I considered it. I thought about all the different ways this situation could end. I imagined how it would feel to finally feel his lips against mine, and I pictured how sweet it would be to see his eyes half-lidded and filled with a similar desire in my own.
But then I chickened out. It wasn’t entirely my fault, either. It was his fault, really. Since the first day on the job, I was repeatedly and sternly warned that Wes did not tolerate workplace romance. I couldn’t blame him; it was a recipe for disaster. It didn’t make me want him any less, though. And on some days, I would swear he felt that same magnetism. But that day wasn’t one of them. I was too nervous from the intensity and proximity.
“Yeah, right,” I said with a chuckle and a step in the opposite direction, “You’d never let that happen.”
That hand that had covered mine so boldly slid to my wrist, gripping just enough to halt my retreat. The unexpected momentum brought me back to him, our chests flush together in the creeping dawn of a day I’d only dreamed about.
“No?” he dared, “Try me.”
The whole world came to a screeching stop, and I blinked once, twice, three times before I managed to sputter out an incredulous, pathetic, “What?”
“You don’t want bad luck, do you?” he teased, his hand continuing up my arm and cupping my chin in a way that couldn’t be interpreted any other way. All I could think about was how they were so soft it was sinful, and the scorching heat from my flushed skin still felt cold in comparison to him.
“So, kiss me,” he dared, and I really believed that he meant it. Brown eyes burned through all of my defenses and doubts, leaving me nothing but an open book trapped by fingers that I bet were well versed in much more than flipping theoretical pages.
“C-Close your eyes,” I stuttered. He didn’t buy that there was any confidence behind the order for a second, but he followed the direction, nonetheless.
I missed those expressive eyes the second they were closed. I couldn’t dwell on the loss, though, because my thoughts were absolutely racing. There were a million warnings blaring through my ears and forcing my heart forward in my chest.
Kiss me, he’d said. He never said where.
And I was a coward, but a coward that hated to be bested. So, with every ounce of courage I could muster, I closed the gap between us, connecting with the scratchy surface of his cheek. The stubble tickled my lips in a way I knew I’d feel forever.
His fingers under my chin slipped from the surprise, and I heard the smallest little inhale when he’d realized what I’d done. If I’d stayed around longer, I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen him blush, too. But — as we’ve established — I am not a brave person in the slightest.
As soon as I pulled away, my feet carried me out of the room. The stunned silence that I fled from told me that there was a similar confusion about what had just happened over the abandoned coffee.
When I went back in a couple hours later to collect my cup and my shame, I noticed a berry missing from the branch.
My first kiss with Wes was, in a word, unforgettable. Literally. From the second it had happened, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That damn peck on the cheek consumed my thoughts so much that it was hard even being in the same building as him, which made work basically unbearable. I suspected that my reaction was exactly the kind of thing that made him create the rule in the first place.
But still, I didn’t regret it... and I don’t think he did, either. If anything, he seemed even more content as we went about our normal routines together. He said nothing about it, except for one brief tease when he almost tricked me into getting stuck under the berries with a snake and the time he succeeded with a puppy. Although, he did make a rather cheeky comment about how it wasn’t fair the dog got a proper kiss. When I asked him to explain what about his kiss was improper, he just shook his head like I should already know.
Our dynamic was still just normal enough that I could have pretended the mistletoe mishap never happened, if not for one thing: the annual company holiday retreat. A weekend in which I would be trapped in a beautiful ski lodge resort with one of the most wonderful men I’d ever met, knowing full well what it felt like to kiss him.
Well, sort of. But that only made it worse, really. Knowing that I only barely knew; knowing it would probably be better when he could return the gesture with his own fervor.
I couldn’t think about it. Not while everyone we worked with sat beside us in arguably one of the most romantic atmospheres known to man. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The softwood crackled and spit from its place within the brick, causing the smell of Christmas to drift through the room filled with laughter and copious amounts of alcohol.
I blamed the cursed liquid for the way my thoughts found their way back to the man sharing a loveseat with me. Surely, I thought, he knew what he was doing when he put himself next to the only girl in the room that he’d ever let kiss him. He must have known that his arm that rested over the back of the seat and hovered over my shoulder would drive my heart wild. My suspicions were confirmed when the limb would dip as he readjusted, inching almost imperceptibly closer to me while his fingers brushed over my shoulder.
When I finally moved to grab a blanket, I returned to find him close enough that he stole the other end of the fabric without even needing to ask. I swore I could feel his body heat but convinced myself it was just the glow of the wine I’d been downing in the hope it would grant me some courage to just talk to him.
Wes didn’t look at me, but he didn’t need to. I could tell by the way he smiled each time I looked up at him with wonder, wishing he’d do something more, that he knew the effect he had on me. I hated it. Because if I truly believed that he knew what he was doing, I had to ask myself another question...
Why the fuck wasn’t he doing anything about it?
The question plagued my thoughts for the entire four hours we spent together, only made worse by the way people left one by one until there were only three of us. That last person was the quickest to make their departure, and I tried not to feel guilty about how excited I was when they did leave the two of us alone.
But once it actually happened, I was struck by that same pesky, paralyzing fear. The two of us sat together, looking at each other and only barely escaping the other’s touch, and we were silent. The only sounds in the room were a crackling fire, the howling winds outside, and my frantic heartbeat trying to escape my chest.
“I guess I should get going, too,” I muttered, unable to think of anything else to say.
Wes’s eyes fell to my lips as the words made their way out, but that was only half as exhilarating as the way his hand that had been dangling over my shoulder dropped to fix my sleeve. That contact, no matter how slight, was enough to cause my eyes to flutter shut and a smile to grace my lips before he even so much as answered my threat to leave.
“You could stay a bit longer if you want,” he whispered in a voice much too inviting, “Have another glass of wine with me.”
“I could,” I hummed contently just before I took the last sip of my bittersweet drink. “But are you just suggesting, or are you asking me to?”
He chuckled, a gentle yet low sound that made goosebumps ripple down my arm in a path he soon after followed. Almost like he could see them underneath my clothing.
“I’m asking you to stay.”
I didn’t expect the words to make me as flushed as they did. The blood in my veins seemed almost uncontrollable, much like the fire still burning away in the background. But the sparks between our bodies were much more interesting.
The longer we stayed, the closer we became. After another hour of the two of us enjoying the atmosphere and company of no one but each other, we were tangled together so tightly under the blanket that I wondered how we’d manage to separate again. Despite already having been essentially sitting on his lap, Wes watched me cautiously as I set my wine glass down. That hand was the only part of me left that wasn’t wrapped around him, and I very much wanted to change that. Judging by the way he pulled me closer, I think he agreed that the move was necessary.
Still, he couldn’t let the desperation slide. Dragging a hand over the sliver of exposed skin of my thigh between the slit in my dress, Wes playfully mumbled, “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
“I will, thanks,” I returned quickly.
Continuing with the theme of rather rude callouts, Wes tightened his grip on my thigh as he drawled, “You seem very… touch starved.”
I didn’t reply because my throat closed the second his hand had started its ascent. He didn’t need any other response than the way my breath hitched and my nails dug into his shoulders.
“I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
“Mmm. Is that your medical opinion?” I asked between nervous but happy giggles.
“It’s wishful thinking,” he answered before tacking on the most genuine plea I’d ever heard, “And me, hoping that you’ll stay with me.”
The advance was so blatant that I almost thought I’d imagined it. But the longer I let the silence sit, the stronger his eyes and hands pulled me in. He was only a couple inches from my face by the time I managed to croak out a response.
“I thought you had a rule about not dating coworkers.”
“That’s a stupid rule,” he said so quickly that I had to accept he’d been waiting for me to mention it, “Let’s break it.”
Still stuck in a disbelieving daze, I narrowed my eyes like that would let me see into his soul easier. As if it wasn’t already displayed so openly before me. “You’re very easily persuaded,” I muttered.
“I can play hard to get if you want me to,” he responded without pause.
But we both knew I didn’t want that. I wanted nothing more than I wanted this- than I wanted him. My body was practically begging for his touch, my muscles already starting to tremble from anticipation. The signs became more obvious the closer our faces became. When our noses bumped into one another, I almost closed my eyes. But I didn’t want to just yet. We were stuck in the most torturous game of chicken I’d ever experienced, scrutinizing each particle of air that dared stay suspended between us and stopped us from giving into everything we wanted.
I didn’t kiss him. Not even on the cheek this time. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, it was because I knew once our lips connected, there would be no letting go of him. I turned away at the last second, but Wes stayed, his lips brushing over my cheek before he dragged his cheek against mine in a way that was arguably even more intimate than any kiss we might have shared.
“Hmm. There’s no mistletoe here,” I whispered into his ear.
Wes chuckled, and I felt it more than heard it as the hot breath burst over my ear. “I think there might be some in the bedroom,” he suggested with a hunger burning through the words.
“Really?” I asked with a sarcastic little gasp that was made worse by the kisses he started peppering over my jaw. “Will you show me?”
There was no time left to waste. With those four words I’d given him everything he needed to understand just how easily he could have me. We scrambled up from the couch with a teenager-like level of excitement, stumbling through the communal areas making way too much noise and not caring who heard.
He held my hand the whole way out into the snow and through the wintry mix to the cabin he was staying in. Even once we were safe from the storm outside, he didn’t let me go. His hands just moved, spinning me around and grabbing hold of the zipper on the back of my dress with absolutely no hesitation. In any other situation, I would have chastised him for rushing it, but in that moment I was grateful that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. Even with quick hands working the fabric off my shoulders, I couldn’t get in his bed fast enough.
And he didn’t let me, either. His hand was heavy on my shoulder, and when he needed to move it, he simply wound it through my hair. With that grip, he tilted my head to the side to bare my neck to him. The reason why became obvious within seconds, as his mouth connected with the skin with feverish kisses that nearly brought me to my knees.
While I did manage to stay upright, I certainly wasn’t silent. I couldn’t have stopped the moan that spilled from my lips even if I’d wanted to. It filled the room alongside the sloppy sounds as he continued to suck and nip at the sensitive skin until I almost delirious with a lack of oxygen from singing his praises.
“Interesting…” he mumbled, clearly mocking my unescapable responses from his efforts.
“Shut up,” I whined, tilting my neck to grant him better access despite my feeble protest.
I should have known better than to think him being quiet would prevent him from torturing me. He had the same idea, nipping at my earlobe before breathily replying, “If it means I get to hear more of those noises, I will gladly find other things to do with my mouth.”
Deciding that his snark, while fun, was best reserved for another time, I fought against his grip in my hair just enough to spin back around to face him. His eyes were quick to appreciate the newly exposed skin, blocked only by thin lace that revealed just how much I’d wished this would happen. While he took his time memorizing what he saw, I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.
It wasn’t until I got to his pants that he snapped back to the present, grabbing my wrist and positioning my hand over the obvious bulge underneath the fabric I’d wanted to free him from. That little action alone brought a smile to my face, and I looked up at him to see the desire painted over his features just like I’d imagined so many times. His other hand grabbed hold of my face with enough pressure to ignite a spark deep inside of me.
“Can you feel what you do to me?” he asked lowly. I wasn’t given a chance to respond with words, not with him kissing me seconds later, but I granted him an answer in the form of my fingers stroking him through his pants until his own moan broke through our still joined mouths.
“Fuck... I want you so bad,” he groaned just before he shoved me back away from him. I let the momentum carry me onto the bed, spreading out among the sheets and enjoying how much better they felt knowing he would join me there shortly.
“I’ve been waiting forever for a chance to get you alone,” he admitted with an undeniable honesty. I felt it in the way he practically tore his pants off and crawled on top of me within seconds.
“What’re you going to do now that you have me?” I purred. As if the answer wasn’t already obvious.
“Make sure you never want to leave,” he explained as he dragged fingertips over the curve of the fabric that remained in his way. Before I could tell him that he’d already succeeded, he demonstrated just how unfinished his answer was. His fingers worked underneath me and popped my bra open with a skill that even surprised me.
Lowering his mouth and tugging the material away at the same time, he chuckled as my skin perked at the feel of his hot breath brushing over it.
“And I’m going to make sure…” he started before he fondled me with an almost bruising grip, “that everyone knows who you belong to.”
Just like that, he took the pebbled peak into his mouth. The gentle suckling was nothing compared to the way his tongue expertly explored the impressive area he managed to cover. I had a similar reaction to when he’d let that dastardly mouth leave marks all over my neck, and I could feel the smirk on his face as he continued through all of my dramatic cries.
My hands tugging on his hair did nothing to stop him. He continued with his persistent marking across my chest, teasing me every few movements by taking in the sensitive center of my breasts for just a few seconds before he shifted to another spot.
I didn’t look down, simply because I was already on the brink of insanity just from feeling alone, but I knew that I would find a number of angry marks in his wake. It was by design, too. He made it clear with each not-so-gentle love bite over my shoulder and neck as he worked his way back up to my lips. Even then, he took my bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on the supple skin already bruised from being worried between my own teeth.
“I love how fucking sweet you are,” he growled, and I couldn’t tell if he’d meant it literally or was merely referencing my demeanor, but I decided it simply didn’t fucking matter. All that mattered was being able to feel him more. Wes must have agreed, because no sooner had the thought hit me than his fingers hooked under the elastic of my underwear and began a torturously slow descent. Even then, he took the time to leave teeth marks and bruises along my thighs.
I knew once he’d started coming back up that he would take yet another detour, but we both decided that it was one worth taking. Sure enough, once he lined back up at my hips, he stopped. His breath against me felt cold compared to the heat I felt inside, and a chill shot through my body and elicited yet another pitiful whine.
“You want to feel it here, too, don’t you?” he cooed, mocking the way my hips bucked against him, seeking out the kisses he was so willing to give.
“Please,” I squeaked. I hoped it would be enough to earn his mercy. Thankfully, it was.
His mouth was every bit as talented there as it was everywhere else. I tried to keep my sounds muffled, but it was the most fruitless effort I’d ever given. I was already practically sobbing from the way I could still feel him in every spot he’d left evidence of his praise, and he didn’t relent in the slightest. He was just as persistent and powerful in his worship, dragging his tongue through the slick folds and trying to feel me as deeply as he could. When his tongue couldn’t reach far enough for him, his fingers took its place.
The feeling of any part of him inside of me drove me mad with lust. My body was moving outside of my control, and I honestly didn’t know how he managed to breathe once my legs wrapped around his shoulders. My hands were rooted firmly in his hair, trying to hold on to reality for just a few seconds longer before I let it all go.
I almost expected to see him staring back at me with that daring, flirtatious stare, but when I looked down, his eyes were closed. I wasn’t upset by it, because I quickly realized that it meant I could watch him without scrutiny or judgment.
And I did. I watched each muscle on his face twitch and tense as he continued his ministrations even when it should have been impossible. I could see the sweat on his brow and the red tinge to his cheeks as he chose me instead of air. And when he did take a breath, I felt that, too.
“Wes,” I finally let myself cry out, “Wes, please. I’m so close.”
Brown eyes opened to reveal a smile hiding behind them. His mouth was too busy to try, but I could practically hear the smug chuckle that was hidden as a content humming against my skin. Luckily for him, I was not at all in the right mind to call him out. Not when he was so busy destroying any semblance of dignity or self-preservation I had left.
So, when Wes left his eyes open and straining to look up at me, I met them for as long as I could. But the sounds of sex and his smothered moans forced me over the edge. The orgasm I’d been battling to prolong hit me so quickly that I didn’t even have time to call his name one more time.
He didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even particularly seem to notice. He was simply too busy continuing the quick, rough thrusting of his fingers and the harsh suckling at my crest to do anything else.
But when the white light and euphoria faded into a manageable haze, his eyes were still locked on mine. He waited until I could hold that gaze for a few uninterrupted seconds before he finally withdrew, leaving me a soaked, twitching mess beneath him. I wondered if it looked as pathetic as it felt, but I also didn’t care. Because even as my muscles rioted against any conscious movement, I still wanted more.
Wes agreed, or at least I hoped that was why he had returned to kissing up my abdomen and chest. Once his lips found mine again, still covered with me, I must have looked absolutely out of my mind. Still, he didn’t look at me like a disaster. Just a little bit helpless.
“It’s okay if you need to stop,” he offered with grace and only a little bit of mockery, “I’ve put you through a lot tonight.”
“No, roll over,” was my almost incoherent response. If he didn’t understand it, the context of me struggling an incredible and embarrassing amount, surely helped. Unfortunately for my pride, it also made him laugh.
“Oh, you are just too cute. Look at you.”
I glanced down at his instruction, spotting what he was referring to immediately. My legs shook with every attempted movement, making them all as clumsy and uncoordinated as ever. But that wasn’t enough to stop me, and Wes didn’t seem to care as much as he acted, because as soon as I knocked into him, he fell back among the pillows with ease.
“I can do it,” I whined through his laughter, “I want to do it, please.”
For all of my begging, I was rendered speechless seconds later at the sight before me. Wes’s hair was wild among the pillows, and his half-lidded, lust-filled eyes looked just as beautiful as I thought they would. The pillows propped him up just enough to put us on almost equal playing ground, and he ensured that I wouldn’t get a swelled head with his arm around my waist pulling me down to him.
“You tell me when you can’t handle it anymore, alright?” he whispered, and I felt the genuineness behind the tone. That soft, compassionate demeanor that I saw him utilize every day at work. I never expected him to look at me like something to be cared for, but now that I’d had it, I wanted nothing more than to see it every day for the rest of my life.
That look didn’t fade even when I reached between us and guided him to my entrance. It only got stronger the deeper he pressed into me. With every inch, I felt closer to him in a sense past the physical. The subtle changes in his expression revealed sides of him I’d never seen, and I loved each of them more than I thought was possible.
“Shit,” he hissed, his hands finding my hips and trying to hold them steady to prevent his bucking hips from forcing me past my limit. His body’s hypocritical actions spurred me forward, though, and with both of my hands over his, I finally forced myself down to be fully seated on him with a broken cry that only barely resembled his name.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” the man underneath me answered just before he buried his mouth on my neck once more. That didn’t stop him from talking, though. He’d taken the time to read exactly what kind of woman I was, and so he knew what I needed to drive me even wilder than he already had. “Keep going, baby,” he sighed, “You’re doing so well.”
And as much as I appreciated the praise, which was a lot, I also couldn’t help but think about the consequences of his actions that I’d let slide thus far. When he latched onto a very visible spot on my neck, I managed to whimper between the moans, “Wes, I’m gonna have to wear a turtleneck for a fucking month.”
It managed to distract him from his current ministrations just long enough that his spiteful little laughter filled the room. Pulling back to draw my attention back to those cruelly beautiful eyes, he smugly answered, “You fucking love it.”
He was right. I did love it, but I also knew that it was a dangerous game to say the least. My pace slowed to a gentle rocking in his lap. It was partially out of fear that the encounter was coming to an inevitable conclusion, but also because I wanted to see him clearer. I was fascinated and entranced by the way the pleasure showed on his face.
“I thought you wanted to keep romance out of the office.”
To my surprise, he didn’t debate the romance aspect of the tryst, instead focusing on the latter half as he answered with a shrug, “We aren’t in the office.”
As if to prove his point, Wes held my hips down before thrusting up roughly. I cried out with nails digging into his shoulders. After all, if he got to leave marks, then I should be able to, too! He took the time to tilt his head to the side and lay a gentle kiss onto my forearm, but then continued with his previous demeanor.
He’d abandoned the plan to mark every inch of my skin with his mouth in favor of kissing me. His hands took over for him, pressing angry crescent marks and bruises in the shape of his fingers over my hips that he brought down on him at a brutal pace.
But as much as I loved kissing him, I couldn’t fight the urge for revenge stirring in my chest. He’d teased me so much so far, it was only fair that I got a chance to return his sarcastic quips with my own. And considering how much he loathed the idea of interwork relationships, I knew exactly how to get back at the resident veterinarian who insisted on not bringing sex into work.
I’d bring the work, instead.
Throwing my head back and forcing his lips to meet my neck once more, I let out one last whorish moan before I cried, “Oh, Doc, you feel so good!”
The affectionate nickname earned another dark laugh from the man whose force only grew as he realized what I was doing. His teeth sunk into already bruised skin, and he dragged them over the swollen skin before he growled, “Fucking brat.”
He could feel the laughter in my throat, but silenced it with a hand gripping me by the scruff so tightly that I actually lost my breath.
“Keep running that mouth and see where it gets you.”
“You can hurt me, Doctor,” I purred, earning another merciless thrust, “And you can fix me up after, too.”
“What makes you think I’d want to fix you after?” he whispered, letting his fingers brush over his marks and apply pressure to each of them just to watch me squirm in response. The more that I moved, the quicker his motions became. Soon enough, his hand had made it all the way down to the space between our thighs, and he locked eyes with me once more.
“Maybe I like you better when you’re broken.”
The pure force, the undeniable truth behind those words did exactly what he wanted. They broke me. All of the tension in my body shattered. I fell forward onto him, and Wes caught me without any hesitation. His hips never once faltered, and his lips alternated between gentle kisses against my temple and soft sounds made directly into my ear.
It was not the broken I was expecting to be, but one that was far more devastating. I felt so overwhelmed, so lost in the sensations he created within me, that when I became cognizant again, I didn’t even want to move from the blatantly intimate embrace. I just clung to him, burying myself in his arms and trusting that he would keep me safe from everything else.
“Not so talkative anymore, are you?”
I didn’t even have the strength to answer, but I knew he already knew what I would have said. There was no denying it. He took my defeat without any sympathy, continuing with his playful ridicule even as he used my body for whatever he needed.
“Are you tired? Have you had your fill?”
The noise I returned was more akin to a whimper than a moan, and he took it as my last attempt at defying his tongue-in-cheek attempts at authority. At that, his touch grew more possessive. His hips worked harder, and his hands slammed me down onto him hard enough that my whole body shook from the impact.
“That’s too bad if you’re tired, because I’m not finished marking you yet,” he chuckled darkly in my ear. I could still hear him over the sounds of rushing blood, but I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything as I let the feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure consume me one final time.
“Mine,” Wes cried, sinking his teeth into my shoulder before he growled, “You’re fucking mine.”
I felt what he meant in every sense of the word. I was his, to hold and bruise and break. I was his because he laid claim to every part of me that he pleased, with his teeth and fingers imprinted in my skin surrounded by mottled marks. He wrote his name with petechiae that he wrapped around my neck so I would never forget how easily he could have taken me. How easily I would have let him.
It seemed inconsequential in comparison, to feel the way his release filled me in a way I’d never let any man do before. I hadn’t even really thought about it, because I’d already given myself to him. And when I lolled my head over to look at him, I found a bliss in his expression that I would give anything to see repeated every time I closed my eyes.
It felt like home, tangled in the cabin with damp skin and tired eyes. We stayed exactly like that, still connected in more ways than one, for as long as we could. We let the residual heat from our fast beating hearts and frantic breath keep us content until the mountain air still creeping through the cabin became too much to bear.
Leaving him was hard, but necessary. I stared at my body in the mirror and found myself admiring all of the new additions he’d left behind. The evidence that it hadn’t been some wild, wine-induced dream. He’d touched me and held me and had me to his heart’s content.
I wasn’t sure what would happen when I returned to his bed. I knew I would either find myself heartbroken or happy, and just wanted to let it happen. Of course, Wes had to continue on his trend of being unpredictable. He welcomed me back under the covers with his arm extended. It wrapped around me in seconds, dragging me closer to him again.
I’d suspected it was just to keep warm, but then he pulled his other hand from under the covers to reveal what he’d been hiding. Dangling from his finger was a delicate piece of lace that we’d so carelessly thrown on the floor before.
We both laughed as I snatched the underwear from him. The longer it took me to put them back on, the more hilarious Wes found my struggle. But soon enough we were tied up together again, with my head resting against his chest where I could hear his heart’s gentle rhythm.
“You know, I really shouldn’t stay here,” I mumbled, drawing patterns over his arm.
Wes put an end to the action and the idea, grabbing hold of my hand and bringing it to his lips for yet another round of what seemed like endless kisses.
“It is quite a risk, isn’t it?” he said in the most unconvincing voice I’d ever heard.
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” I murmured back.
A smile crept over cheeks still pink from our escapades, and Wes just shook his head at the familiar old excuse. Playing along with the hopeless romantic he pulled closer, he drawled back, “But baby, it’s cold outside.”
Despite my giggles, I broke character of the timid, modest woman that we both knew I wasn’t and said through a pout, “It such a long, cold walk back to my room, though.”
“You should probably stay here, then, huh?” he returned. Our faces drifted closer, his arm around my waist urging me forward and supporting our terrible decisions.
Once our lips touched again, tenderly and tired, I reminded myself of the mistletoe and how right I was that it was so much better when he could kiss me back. Even when I tried to pull away, he followed me, stealing one more kiss before I happily concluded, “Baby, it’s cold outside.”
Summary: Wes meets a girl dressed as a cat at a Halloween party and decides to tame her.
Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: D/s dynamic, leash, collar, degradation, oral (male receiving), edging, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex
Word Count: 7.2k
MASTERLIST
Halloween is an interesting time of year. The one night when you can truly be whatever you want. You can learn so much about a person based purely on the costume they choose to wear. In my case, it meant that I was quite possibly the most basic bitch in the house.
I say almost, because there was another person in the house that might have had a bigger claim to that title. The costume in question was a single sticker stuck to the front of a shirt. The man wearing it, however, got away with wearing such ridiculous attire for one reason, and one reason only: he was, by far, the most attractive man in the building. Possibly the whole world.
Unfortunately, he also happened to be ruining the image. In the middle of a house filled with people looking for any possible distraction from the life we led during the other 364 days of the year, this man was lounging on the couch and staring intently at his phone. It simply would not do; I would not let this beautiful man spoil my idealistic expectations for the night by being hung up on something else.
So, discarding any remaining inhibitions that persisted despite the copious amounts of alcohol, I marched right up to him and took a seat on his lap. Somewhat surprisingly, he didn’t immediately push me off. In fact, he didn’t really react at all. He just sat there, staring at me with raised eyebrows and a slight smile.
“Can I give you a word of advice?” I asked, wrapping one arm around his shoulder.
He watched the precarious hold I had on the plastic cup in my hand, but then looked back up at me with a chuckle. Again, he didn’t make a single indication of discomfort. He just maintained that goofy look with a smile that continued to grow wider.
“Uh... Sure?”
“What’s your name?”
His tongue swept over his lips before he answered me. “Wes,” he said, finally bringing a hand up to rest against my hip and keep me from falling.
“Okay, Wes,” I started, scooting even closer to him now that he had displayed at least a sliver of interest. “My word of advice: stop checking your phone. She’s not going to text you back.”
“Well—" he started, but I swiftly cut him off with a finger on his lips. The little smirk had stretched into a full, toothy smile. It shouldn’t have been possible to literally be attracted to someone’s teeth, and yet all I could think about was him sinking them into my skin. I tried not to let it distract me. It barely worked.
“No, okay, listen. I bet I know exactly what kind of girl this is.”
I paused to clear my throat and take a drink. Once I had finished, he held his hand out to me. I slowly lowered my drink into his hand, which he then rested against the seat next to us.
“Please, continue,” he instructed.
“Okay. I bet you met her recently and she seemed great; the total package. Then something sort of weird happened and now she’s totally ghosting you, and only calls you when it’s convenient which seems super random.”
The subtle sadness covering his features told me that I was right. I almost felt bad about it, too, having obviously dampened his spirits, but I also knew that I could lift them up again. And that part would be way, way more fun for both of us.
Pressing on, I let my now free hand follow the patterns on his shirt.
“And when you do see her, it’s never really all that satisfactory, but you let it go because you really want it to go somewhere it was never going to go.”
Wes tilted his head back and forth, contemplating something that I couldn’t really figure out. The way his grip loosened over my hip told me one thing, but the playfulness in his eyes told me another.
“Come on. How close am I?” I asked, shifting my hip to bump his lightly. That made his hand move again, and it certainly didn’t get gentler. His fingers dug into me for just a brief second before he let go again.
“I’m... actually texting my mom,” he explained through stifled laughter. “But I really love your confidence.”
I cringed despite joining in the giggles, “Wow. Swing and a miss.”
“A really good swing, though. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, what can I say? I’ve got quite an arm.” I held up my arm to show my impressive lack of muscles, but I watched the way his eyes fell straight to my chest, instead. A hilarious but adorable lack of subtlety that I would excuse for him, for now.
“Okay, so, new advice for you, Wes.”
“Lay it on me,” he responded without hesitation.
“Instead of texting your mother, who I’m sure is an absolute gem, how about you leave your phone in your pocket and try to enjoy this horribly tacky Halloween party with me?”
Gesturing to the party surrounding us was probably not the best idea while drunk, because even with his arm around me, I still almost managed to topple backwards of his lap. Luckily, I didn’t fall too far, and when Wes pulled me back up, he didn’t stop at my previous position.
He pulled me much, much closer.
“I don’t know,” he whispered in the little space that remained between us, “it’s a very riveting conversation.”
“What’s it about?”
“I…” Wes paused, his mouth hanging open for a moment before closing in a pout that quickly flattened. “You know what, yeah, let’s hang out. No more texting.”
And that, my friends, is what we call a terrible cover.
“Oh, no, now I want to know!” I said through an excited gasp. To think, he was considering hiding something interesting from me, the most interesting person in this room by far.
“Fine. I’ll tell you,” he sighed. Before he continued, though, he brought my drink back to me along with an accusing finger. “But only if you promise not to give any more advice. So far it has been very questionable.”
“I promise,” I giggled, grabbing my drink and beginning to sip it in hopes of stopping any commentary I might otherwise want to give. But then he just had to say the one thing that was guaranteed to get a response.
“I’m texting my mom... about the girl you described.”
After almost choking on my drink, I pulled both arms back just to wave them in front of him in something that was supposed to demonstrate just how much I hated everything he'd just said.
“Boooo!” I yelled.
“Hey! You said no advice!”
“That’s not advice!” I corrected, “it’s festive and appropriate commentary! Boooo!”
“I know, I know. But hey, look on the bright side. I agreed to hang out with you instead.”
There was something about the way he said it, the way that his body relaxed again after the excitement; for the first time since I’d sat down, I realized just how comfortable I was with him. And it wasn’t just the alcohol or attraction — it was like there was some weird pheromone he put off that made me docile.
While I was coasting somewhere in the clouds of my thoughts, Wes had taken it upon himself to fix my cat ears that had shifted as a result of my theatrics. I barely noticed he’d moved until his hand ran down my jaw in its retreat.
“So what do you want to do?” He asked, earning an immediate scoff from me.
“I have to entertain you?”
“The tacky party itself isn’t going to do it.”
It was a compelling argument. I looked around at the fake cobwebs already covered with glitter from the girls' costumes and the sticky surface of the table, and saw potential.
“You wanna bet?” I dared him, and with a scrunched up, mischievous stare, he nodded.
“Yeah. I do.”
The next couple of hours went by in an alcohol-induced blur. I might have stopped to regret that I would forget so many details of the night, but I was having too much fun to even think about it. In those hours, the two of us managed to lose terribly at three rounds of beer pong, only barely avoid darts thrown by very drunk idiots, and judge a very secret costume contest that no one knew about besides us. It was more fun than I’d had in a very long time. I guess when you’re with the right person, even the most inane things can be fun.
That was the only innocent thought still running through my head by the time we returned to the same couch at which we'd started. Having both hands free and a bolder mindset now, I was able to touch him like I’d wanted to before. One hand ran up the back of his neck, tangling in the mousy brown curls while the other traced the edges of the name tag on his shirt.
“Are your hands normally this impulsive, or is it just because of the alcohol?”
He didn’t ask the right question. If he’d asked, ‘or is it just because of me?’ I wouldn’t have been able to lie. But he didn’t ask that, and so I took an easy way out.
“Always. I’m a wild creature,” I purred, pausing to take a minute to read the name tag. Of course, once I did that I was barely able to speak through the laughter. “… Franklin.”
His chuckle at the fake name was short-lived. I wasn’t complaining, though, because in its place came a suddenly serious, somewhat contemplative look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that stirred something inside of you, warning you to run away. But like a deer in the headlights, I stared straight into the light of his eyes.
“Why do I feel like taming you would be like belling the cat?”
I swallowed hard to try and remove the lump in my throat, and in the process, I drew his eyes down to the collar around my neck. It was enough of a jumpstart that I was no longer paralyzed by his gaze. Knocking into the small bell I wore, I deadpanned, “What are you talking about? I already put a bell on for you.”
“Is that what you’re supposed to be?” He laughed, “A cat?”
Trying not to take offense at his obvious mockery, I stuck my nose in the air before I answered, “Rude. I am obviously a kitten.”
I already missed those eyes on mine. Even as I felt them burning into my skin strongly enough to leave scorch marks, I craved more from him. As if in response to my stray thought, Wes dug his hands into my hips, dragging me closer until our chests were pressed against one another.
“Oh, obviously?” He teased.
Unfortunately for him, I was much better at that.
“Yeah. Didn’t you see my ears and adorable little tail?” I asked innocently, sliding my hand over his on my hip and guiding it to the tail that hung over his leg. Our eyes stayed connected, and I saw them soften for just one flickering second before he returned to that steely yet somehow goofy demeanor.
“I’ve never seen a cat of any age that looked like you,” he said, leaving his hand where I’d left it.
“What are you, a cat expert?”
“A little bit, yeah,” he answered almost immediately.
The quickness managed to catch me enough off guard that I couldn't offer a quick comeback. So, scrunching up my nose and waving a white flag, I sighed, “Fine. Tell me how to be more feline.”
“For starters? You have no whiskers.”
Wes’s hand on my face felt like fire on already flushed cheeks. My eyes fluttered shut in response. I had a feeling that was what he’d wanted to happen, because when they only opened halfway, full of longing, he smiled.
“Yeah, that’s on purpose,” I mumbled back through a lopsided grin.
“A cat with no whiskers on purpose?”
I was prepared for that question. Still, I took the time to clear my throat and wrap my arms around his shoulders before I responded. In that very brief amount of time, his hands were roaming over the thin, smooth spandex I wore, and his burning eyes kept falling to my chest.
“I figured it would be awkward, you know?” I asked, leaning forward to whisper the rest of my answer into his ear, “I mean, wouldn’t that be awkward if I ended up fucking someone tonight and I had that make up on?”
His reaction, while not what I’d hoped for, caused butterflies to fill my stomach and flutter into my chest. One lithe finger slid between the soft skin of my neck and the velvet covered collar. In a voice I wouldn’t have heard over the music if my attention had been on anything but him, he whispered, “Seems sensible, but...”
Suddenly, he pulled me forward by the collar, my lips almost crashing into his before he jerked me to a stop. He could feel my pulse pounding against him while my chest heaved with short, heavy breaths.
“What about this?” He asked like it was the most innocent question in the world. He’d underestimated me again. He hadn’t considered just how ready I was to tease.
Dropping my tone and volume, I tilted my chin up so that my lips brushed against his when I said, “That’s not part of the costume.”
The bulge I’d been resting against in his pants was impossible to ignore, but somehow Wes's demeanor remained almost completely unaffected. I say almost because I could still make out the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“No?” He whispered, and I heard the second question implicit in the word.
I shook my head no to confirm, our noses brushing against each other and his stubble tickling my lips. I thought my desire was obvious in every fiber of my being, but Wes still took the effort to lock our gazes again. His finger slipped from the collar and he cupped my face in his palm, the touch burning through me.
“Do you want to...?” He breathed, but before he could finish, I had already answered.
“Yes.”
An only slightly awkward Uber ride later, we ended up at his place. The two of us stumbled up his driveway similar to how we'd roamed the party— a mess of laughter and clinging to each other for equally unreliable support. I would blame it on the alcohol, but I honestly think most of it was just the two of us genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
When we finally, thankfully made it to the door, Wes paused. Clearing his throat after fishing his keys from his pockets, he spoke lowly and clearly in a way that made me laugh harder, “I don’t mean to ruin the mood, but my dog Ollie is definitely going to jump on you the second I open this door.”
“Is that supposed to be a dealbreaker?” I asked as the excitement took over the rest of my expression.
“I’m a little worried you might be more interested in the dog,” he explained.
“You should definitely be worried about that,” I confirmed.
The words had a somewhat unanticipated effect. Wes swept his tongue over his bottom lip, bringing it into his mouth before releasing it slowly into a smile. Some part of me wondered if it was just anticipation for the general prospect of sex, but another voice warned me that he seemed excited by the thought of me existing in his home like I belonged there.
Once the door opened, his prediction came true. Even in my drunken stupor, I was able to avoid falling and give Ollie a little bit of properly earned attention before Wes called him away. The loud whistle caused us both to react, and I was left in the foyer watching Wes control a giant dog with the sound of his voice alone.
Interesting.
The butterflies in my stomach were restless, and the feeling was only stifled by the way my heart started to pound impossibly hard when he led me to his room.
As soon as he closed the door, Wes turned to look at me with a remarkably animalistic stare. In the silence of the room, our breath and our steps seemed so much louder. I could almost still hear the party in my mind, but it stopped as soon as Wes backed me against the bed.
“You are way too good at controlling that dog of yours,” I mumbled with a little grin.
“It’s important to have well-behaved pets,” he whispered. His lips hung just over mine, and it still took me a few seconds longer to realize that in all of our flirting, we’d never actually kissed.
“Boy, do I have some bad news for you,” I teased. I didn’t mean much by it, considering all of my interactions with him so far had been... well, normal. It wasn’t until then that things started to change.
With both hands on my hips, Wes forced me to turn around. When I stumbled on my heels, he didn’t hold me steady. Instead, he pushed me forward until my hands hit the bed.
“That’s okay,” he muttered, coming up behind me and cupping my chin. He forced my face up to bare my neck before he finished with a low growl, “I’m fine with training you.”
There was no time for me to ask what he meant, or to even be surprised by the sudden darkness that he’d flipped on like a switch. As soon as my brain was finally able to register what he’d said, I heard the distinct ‘click’ of a leash being clipped into place. Seconds after that, he held one hand on my chest and the other tugged on the lead. The pressure against my neck caused another pressure deep in my gut, and it only got worse when Wes pressed my back against his chest.
“Some brief ground rules…”
My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, even before nimble fingers started to pull the zipper on my dress.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Please, don’t stop,” I immediately panted as my dress pooled at my feet, quickly followed by my bra. My shoes and underwear, however, remained on.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he continued with the utmost nonchalance.
I hope it does.
I still hadn’t moved by the time he was apparently done undressing me. His hands started to roam over the newly exposed skin, testing my reactions before he finished his rules. The leash wound tighter over his hand, and I knew that because it caused my collar to rub harder against me each time.
Wes must have been watching me. He must have felt the way my thighs began to rub together and heard the almost imperceptible whimpers on my lips. Because when he was finally sated by the exploration of his hands, he pressed his lips just below my ear, giving one final rule.
“And behave.”
The words should have been rough and overtaken by the sound of his breath on my ear, but I heard them with perfect clarity. It was the first time in my life I’d ever wanted to follow such a blatant order, my normally rambunctious stubbornness fading into the dark of the room.
Wes took my silence as consent to his rules, and when his fingers danced over my breasts, goosebumps followed in their wake. From his low little chuckle, I’d say he liked how much my body responded to him.
“If you can do those things for me, I’ll take very good care of you. Got that?” He sounded so sweet when he said it. All I could do was nod dumbly in response, arching my back when his hand finally passed over my belly button.
“Good girl. I like it when you’re quiet,” he spoke against the skin of my shoulder, laying hot kisses up my neck. “But I bet you also make some really pretty noises.”
This man. This unbelievable man I’d met only hours before had such control over my body that I was convinced I might actually be just another animal to him. Then again, he showed such an interesting duality I wanted to chase so badly. Because while his words were rough, the hand slowly creeping into my underwear was anything but.
He ran one finger between my folds, gathering the slickness that had formed in a matter of seconds and a heavy breath left him. “Someone’s excited,” he said in a mocking sort of way, but it was clear from the erection pressed against my ass that he was just as excited as I was.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from moaning when his finger finally dipped into me. It wasn’t just the movement, but the way Wes paired it with his own moan, his kisses against my neck becoming more involved with each step. Like he was getting off purely on the fact that I was available for his consumption. I hadn’t even touched him, and yet I got the feeling he was experiencing an even greater euphoria just from commanding me however he wanted.
“Don’t tell me this is the first time you’ve ever let yourself get caught.”
I tried to laugh, but Wes chose that exact moment to tug back on the leash. “I-I...” I choked. When my hands raised, I think he expected them to go to my neck, but they didn’t. Instead, they reached back to tangle in his long curls.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good enough grip for what came next. Before I knew what was happening, Wes had managed to slip another finger into me, but that wasn’t the only thing that doubled. The thrusts became ruthless in their power and speed, and his hair slipped from my fingers as I fell forward against the bed, only barely stopping myself from face planting.
And of course…
“You can barely stay up. Guess it’s a good thing I have this.”
The leash helped.
I wanted to be snarky and clever, but my mind had turned to nothing from his ministrations that showed no sign of stopping. It wasn’t until my breath picked up in short, quick bursts and my stomach tensed against his arm that Wes spoke again.
“Are you gonna come, kitten?”
“Y-Yes!” I shouted back, chasing that final hill to break the tension when it happened.
Everything stopped.
The pressure around my neck disappeared and Wes abruptly halted his hand before slowly removing it from my underwear.
“Wrong answer,” he mocked in what was quite possibly the cruelest tone I’d ever heard.
“Wait, please—“
My mind was still broken and my thoughts absent beyond the intense, soul-crushing desire to fall apart at his hands. I wanted — no, needed — him to touch me again, but he kept moving further away. Barely staying upright on my heels, I spun around to chase after him when the leash wrapped halfway around my neck.
Wes saw it before I felt it, and his hands held me in place before he used the same fingers that had been inside me to turn the collar to face forward. There was a tenderness in his eyes again as he inspected the way my eyes had watered from the overstimulation and his knuckles ran over my flushed cheeks.
“Get on your knees.”
It wasn’t what I had expected to come out of his mouth, but I wouldn't complain. On shaky legs, I slowly lowered myself to the ground with his guidance. I can only imagine what he saw in that moment, as I bit down hard on my bottom lip and rubbed my thighs together in search of any reprieve from the lack of attention.
Whatever it was, it brought the smallest little smirk to his face when he ordered, “Stay there.”
I watched with bated breath as he turned to walk away from me, the leash slipping from his fingers and hitting the hardwood beside me. My heart rate skyrocketed at the sound, and I wondered if this was all just a test of how much I would behave. He’d told me to stay, but then granted me the freedom to follow.
Against all of my normal impulses, I listened. I fell back on my heels and waited, not even turning to follow his body. I stared straight ahead at the dresser in front of me and waited for his voice, his touch, his anything before I allowed myself to breathe again.
His next order came in the form of a sharp whistle. Without even thinking about the connotations, my body turned to answer his call. He was still smiling as he sat on the chair in the corner of the room beside a window.
I swallowed hard as he raised his hand and curled one of those impossibly long fingers, beckoning me closer to him without ever saying a word. Like I was stuck in a trance, my hands pressed against the cool floor before I slowly padded over to him on all fours. The soft sounds of the dragging leash trailed behind me, and I tried not to seem too eager in my movements.
It was impossible. The second I’d made it to him, my face found its way between his spread legs and nuzzled against his thigh. I sat up, my fingers only barely grabbing hold of the zipper of his pants before I heard it— the distinct sound of him clicking his tongue at me.
Part of me hated the way it immediately made me stop, my hands receding despite how badly I wanted to continue.
“Awwwe,” he cooed as he reached forward, grabbing my face and looking into my eyes with a suffocating intensity. “You would do anything for me.”
From underneath his hand, I forced my jaw open, revealing my mouth and my tongue to him in what I’d hoped would be a clear indication of what I wanted. Truthfully, my desire to please him wasn’t even solely out of a hope for him to return the favor; I wanted to please him because I felt that he had deserved it.
“You already know exactly what you’re good for.” There was a dreaminess in his tone, then, as he undid his own pants with his free hand. He chuckled again at the way I whimpered when he let go of my face to pull himself free without removing any of his clothes.
But my ability to hide my zeal hit its limit, and as soon as I was able to, I leaned forward to try and get the contact I desired.
I didn’t make it. Wes immediately grabbed my hair with another loud click of his tongue, and I let out a pained whine at the sensation.
“You don’t do anything unless I tell you to,” he warned. I believed him, but it didn’t stop me from pouting when his hand slid down the back of my neck until he could grab the leash once more. Before he could move to add any pressure, I let a beg fall from my lips at the fullest volume.
“Please.”
He ignored the request almost entirely, instead withdrawing as he continued with his commands, “Show me your hands.”
I presented them to him with my wrists together and palms up, but he guided each to rest against the edge of the chair on the outsides of his legs. When I made no move to change their position, I earned the praise I so desperately sought.
“Good girl. Now leave them there. You don’t get to touch yourself.”
Although I normally would have been frustrated by the latter half of the order, I couldn’t think of anything beyond those first two beautiful words. They played on loop in my head as his hand laced through my hair until he had a firm enough grip to pull me up to where I wanted to be. Still, I waited until he pressed my mouth against the head of his dick before I parted my lips, closing around him and wrapping my tongue around him.
“Do a good enough job and maybe I’ll fuck you,” he said, somehow still composed despite my best efforts. There was a small hitch in his breath that caused pride to stir in my chest, but all attention went to my desire seconds later when he growled, “Maybe.”
It was something to work towards, and work I did. With his hand pressing hard against me, I started to take him into my mouth as quickly as I could without also appearing ungrateful. I think he knew what I was doing, too, because every time I got too eager, he would pull on the leash just enough to provide the necessary feedback.
That pressure, the friction around my neck was more erotic than when his hands actually touched me. I couldn’t explain why, but for whatever twisted reason my mind wanted to settle on, the truth was that I loved the prospect of being so unequivocally his. There was nothing else on my mind in that moment outside of pleasing him.
And judging by the sounds he was making, I was succeeding. As my head bobbed, Wes let out a string of curses under his breath. At some point, my movements were less my own and more him moving my head with his grip around the lead and my hair.
When I finally felt him hit the back of my throat, I gagged. It was either the wrong move or very much the right one, but either way, he held my head down for just a second longer before he pulled me off of him entirely.
“Good girl,” he said through heavy breath, watching with a clear adoration as the spit snapped back onto my chin. He smiled, that same smile from before that made goosebumps cover my skin and cause my lungs to cease working.
“Get up and bend over the bed.”
There was no need to repeat himself. I got up so quickly that I almost forgot he was still holding onto the leash. I choked myself in my haste, earning a soft, genuinely entertained chuckle from the man. Even when I pouted, he just shook his head as if to tell me that I would get no mercy or pity that night.
That certainly didn’t change when I was finally where he wanted me, bent over and only barely keeping my heels on the floor. I realized then that must have been why he’d wanted my shoes to stay on, to spare me the torture of not being able to reach the floor if I happened to push too far up the bed.
The leash provided a new form of anticipation, albeit the opposite of what I’d gotten used to with it. That time, when the leash loosened, it meant that he was closer. When it fully slackened, I waited for the moment where he’d finally touch me again.
I still gasped when he did.
Smoothing one hand over my side, Wes hooked his thumb into the side of my underwear to start to drag it over my hips. He didn’t bother taking it any farther than necessary for his needs, but I made the effort to help shimmy them down to the floor. It made it even more satisfying when he dug his nails into the back of my thigh, dragging it up over one cheek before he roughly grabbed hold.
“If you’re already so well behaved, I wonder what else I could make you do with a little bit of discipline...”
That was the only warning I got before he let go, bringing his hand back down with a loud slap. I sobbed on a moan, which was clearly what he was after, considering he didn’t help the pain by digging his nails into the now burning skin.
He waited to let go until another pathetic plea fell from my lips, although this time it was in the form of incoherent whimpers. He didn’t say anything — just slipped his hand between my thighs from behind and drew those damned fingers between my folds.
“You’re being too quiet,” he mumbled with obvious amusement in his voice, “I want to hear how grateful you are.”
If he was expecting anything graceful or intelligent, he would be sorely mistaken. However, judging by the way his breathing picked up at the sound of my wanton moans, I’d say he was very happy with what he got. Happy enough to reward me with his fingers slipping into my heat once more.
It was even easier for him to work me up that time. He cared less about the actual pattern of his fingers and settled for sheer force and speed of the thrusts, and before I knew what was happening, I was putty in his hands.
Clearly unsatisfied with the way I buried my face into the sheets to scream, Wes tugged on the leash until my mouth was free of obstruction. But the noises that continued to spill from my throat were not what made his hand slow down and come to a halt. No, it was the way my stomach started to tense again, my legs shaking uncontrollably when he curled his fingers inside of me.
“Beg.”
I took too long to answer, and suddenly my air supply was even more compromised by the pressure that I was starting to form a Pavlovian response to. My breath was short and frantic, and soon enough he withdrew his hand from inside me just to wrap it around my neck over the collar.
“Beg.”
“Please, sir.” It was so fucking pathetic that I think he might have pitied me for just a split second before he started to laugh.
“Oh, I’m sir now?”
“Please fuck me, sir,” I begged as he'd demanded, suddenly unable to stop myself from repeating the words over and over, “Please. Please let me come.”
There was a pause, and it didn’t take me long to realize that the commotion behind me was from Wes stripping off his pants.
“It’s interesting that you think one will necessarily lead to the other,” he teased with his words before he began to tease by pressing himself against my entrance. I should have paid better attention to what he was saying, but it was impossible when my body was screaming for him to fill me in any way that he was willing.
“Please!” I yelled with a raw, scratchy throat.
“Fine. But you don’t get to come until I tell you to,” he said, finally releasing his grip on my throat and granting me some freedom from the tightness of the leash. It wasn’t much a reprieve, though, when his voice dropped down into that dangerous register again.
“Do you understand, kitten?”
“Mmhm,” I mumbled.
My enthusiasm was, apparently, not appreciated. Just barely breaching my entrance, Wes once again paused before giving me what I wanted. “Use your words,” he practically sang in my ear.
“Yes, sir,” I keened, “Yes, I understand.”
Then, with one swift thrust, Wes bottomed out inside of me. Immediately, my body was trembling, still on edge from the last time he’d touched me. I realized, a bit too late, that it would be much, much harder to keep my promise than I'd thought. I couldn’t be blamed for it, either. Although I knew logically that his hands were nothing compared to the size of him, it still surprised me just how well he stretched me, and just how far he reached.
My moans were more like whines at that point, and part of me hated myself for making so much noise. Wes certainly appreciated it, but I was so desperate to hear the noises he was making. Underneath my own, I heard the labored breathing mixed with grunts and moans that sounded enough like praise for my purposes.
That was, until he gave me actual praise.
“Good girl.”
It was the push I needed for my muscles to begin to tighten again, my hands desperately clutching the sheets to try and reroute the tension somewhere else. It was only barely working, and Wes must have felt the struggle as my walls closed around him and begged him to let me fall apart.
He saw how hard I was trying to follow his instruction, and he decided to make it much, much worse.
“Look at you taking it all in so well,” he groaned, “You like to act feral, but you’re really just a little lap cat, desperate for attention from your owner.”
“W-Wes...” I whimpered more than said, trying to turn to see him over my shoulder but feeling him correct the movement with the leash.
Slamming into me with full force, I felt his hand bruising my hip while he brought me down against him even harder with each thrust forward. Through all of his labored breathing, he still managed to land another taunt.
“That’s right, kitten. I own you. You’re mine.”
I couldn’t argue with him.
“I’m yours,” I purred, wishing more than anything that it would be true long after the night ended. And if the way his thrusts began to falter was any indication, that ending was coming soon. It was a mercy and a shame, because while I desperately craved release, the idea of this experience coming to an end was equally devastating.
Wes must have read my mind, because with a tenderness unlike what he’d shown to me thus far, he let the tension leave his hand long enough to stroke my side when he asked, “Are you ready, sweet girl?”
Without a single second of hesitation, I screamed back, “Yes! Yes, God, please!”
“Come with me, kitten.”
My toes were already curling when he was able to answer, but I was glad that my body managed to hold on for just a second longer. Because just before the orgasm was about to wash over me, Wes forced my body up so that he could turn my face and capture my lips with his own.
I would call it a kiss, but it lacked any of the grace or romance typically associated with such a word. It was more like our tongues were seeking any sign of the other, our bodies fighting to be as close as they possibly could as he filled me one more time. The warmth that bloomed in my stomach was nothing compared to the flushing in my face that almost made his hands feel cold.
Realistically, I knew the moment was less than a minute, but it really did feel like a lifetime. Even after our bodies started to go limp, he kept pulling me closer and continued to kiss me until he could be sure that I was back to Earth.
My feet, however, were not back on Earth. Just as I had expected, I had been pushed far enough up the bed that when I tried to find the ground, I immediately stumbled. Luckily, Wes was ready to catch me without relying entirely on the leash that was still attached to my neck.
All it took was a swift move of his hand for that to no longer be true, and he actually took the extra step of removing my collar. I didn’t say anything — all of my efforts were dedicated to trying to will my lungs to work right again and for my heart to stop trying to race with my thoughts.
In that delirium, I somehow managed to mutter a single, stupid, “Wow.”
Wes didn’t care much for my poor attempt at praise, though. After he had pulled out of me, he spun me around to rest against the bed. We would address the mess running down my legs later, since he had bigger concerns that were obvious enough by his fingers gingerly trailing over the column of my throat.
“How’s your neck feeling?”
“Who cares?” I giggled dreamily.
“I do,” he replied with his own laugh.
Still struggling to stay upright, I tried to make it clear to him that my exhaustion was not in any way bad. My hands managed to make their way to his arms, and instead of grabbing hold like he’d expected, I ran my nails along his forearms. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I felt the way goosebumps followed.
“My neck feels fine,” I reassured with my own clever little grin, “You’re very talented with a leash.”
“You should see what else I can do with it,” he answered without skipping a beat.
Immediately, my imagination was filled with ideas from him binding me with the rope to the sounds it would make coming down on my skin. “Oh, I really should,” I slurred.
That was enough of a satisfying answer to earn me another kiss, and I took the opportunity to really enjoy the way his lips parted in an invitation to come closer. In fact, everything about him begged me to stay, to lose myself in him and not look back.
And I didn’t want to, either.
“Fuck, that girl is so stupid, Wes,” I said without thinking the moment the kiss ended, “I would marry you today if you asked me.”
Thankfully, he took it as a joke from a sex-addled brain and not a serious suggestion. Although, if it was always like that with him, I might have actually considered it. I think there was something else on his mind, too, because he looked uncharacteristically shy when he finally stopped laughing.
“I think a proposal would be strange considering, you know...” he mumbled.
“Considering what?”
With a cringe and yet another nervous chuckle, he cautiously replied, “I… still don’t know your name.”
Silence fell over the room. My jaw was dropped open so far that I honestly felt like a cartoon character, and I only barely squeaked out the word, “What?”
Wes just nodded in response, trying to stifle his laughter by biting down on his lips while I tried not to look as horrified and embarrassed as I felt.
“Are you serious? I never told you?” I asked one final time, trying to remember anything to prove him wrong. But of the very few perfectly clear memories, none of them included my name.
“Nope,” he said with a pop of his lips. “You’re just a little lost kitten.”
The humor was only a little appreciated. At least one of us thought it was more funny than humiliating that I had just let a man completely dominate me without ever even sharing my name.
I guess he hadn’t needed it. But I figured I should share it, anyway.
“It’s (y/n),” I murmured through a pout.
“Well, (y/n), it’s very nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.
I took it with an absolutely ridiculous smile as I said, “Likewise.”
Summary: Reader went for a breakfast run and came back with 6 new friends.
A/N: Inspired by an adorable Tiktok! Wes is too cute and deserves domestic life.
Couple: Wes/GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warning: None! Just cute.
Word Count: 1.3k
MASTERLIST
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and thanks to rigid work schedules, it was rare that I had the chance to make a big to-do over it. So, on a particularly lazy Saturday morning at my boyfriend’s house, I took advantage of the opportunity to surprise the still-sleeping Wes with breakfast when he woke up.
Well, sort of. I really just planned on getting us something to-go from his favorite local cafe. After all, it was still a morning, even if it was a Saturday. I was lazy. And while I did manage to get the flapjacks and coffee, by the time I finally got back to the house, there was something else that caught his attention.
A few things, actually. Six to be exact.
I know that he had some suspicions because the tone he used when he called out from the couch told me as much. “Hey, babe,” he said in a quiet, slightly hesitant voice.
“Hey!” I chirped back, having already happily drunk both all of my coffee and half a smoothie in my limited time awake. I immediately regretted not having decided what else to say, because in the silence we both heard a small collection of muffled mewls.
Wes eyed me suspiciously, his head tilting to the side in a half-hearted attempt to skip over my figure to see the crate sitting behind me. “What’s that you got there?” he asked.
“Breakfast!” I replied, waving the crinkly paper and plastic that was somehow still warm despite a teensy-tiny detour I'd made on the way home. Unfortunately for me, Wes didn’t seem all that interested in the food. And when he got up from his seat and started to approach me, I tried to remember the years of practice I’d had at making puppy dog eyes.
I would need them.
“And?” he continued, pausing just in front of me with his eyebrows raised.
“A smoothie,” I scoffed, feigning confidence. “Which is still breakfast, which I already said. What a silly question, Wes.”
“Right,” he said with a bit of a disbelieving laugh.
It wasn’t until he went to move past me that I spoke again, louder and more excited, “They gave me two straws, isn’t that crazy?”
“That is crazy.”
He wasn’t talking about the straws.
With one large step, he finally made it to the closed crate that was literally begging to be opened. Even as he bent over and undid the latch, I continued to talk like none of it was happening.
“We can still share, though, if you want. And we can share the one straw.”
Wes stood again, this time with a tiny kitten squirming in his hands. And as hard as it was, I somehow managed to avoid looking at just how small and fragile it looked in his hands. I resisted the urge to squeal at the sight of my boyfriend holding an adorable little fur ball, and offered him a sip from my smoothie, instead.
Wes accepted my peace offering, but then shattered any semblance of a treaty immediately.
“Is there maybe something else you’re forgetting to mention?” he asked with a half-full mouth.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head before I preoccupied my mouth with the smoothie straw again.
I almost got away with it. There was a moment where the two of us stared each other down with slightly narrowed eyes and pursed lips. There was a moment where he thought about letting me off the hook and accepting the collection of crying critters. But then he opened his mouth, and I panicked.
“Wes they were all alone!” I whined loudly, dragging out the words until they slurred into the next, “They need our help!”
“Naturally,” he nonchalantly replied.
Still, he didn’t put down the kitten in his hand. In fact, he had only cuddled it closer as the conversation went on. I could hear its soft purrs, and I saw the strain on his face as he tried not to smile at the sensation against his chest.
“They’re just fosters! It’s only for a few weeks! I swear!” I pleaded, hoping the kitten would bolster my puppy dog eyes and seal the deal.
There was no such luck. In the most sarcastic way possible, Wes laughed.
“Oh, I definitely believe you.”
Requiring more ammunition, I ducked down and scooped up another kitten from the free-for-all in the crate below us. The pathetic, broken cries mixed with my whimpers as I held the critter besides my cheek.
“Lookit their little face!” I whined. It elicited a soft smile from my boyfriend. The kind of tender look that meant I was very much on my way to winning.
“They are very cute,” he whispered. He wasn’t talking about the kitten. His free hand reaching out to pet the kitten’s forehead. Before he pulled away, he dragged the back of his finger over my cheek, too.
It was just enough to make me feel guilty.
“Are you mad at me?” The words slurred together under my breath, and I brought the kitten to my chest. As it scrambled to earn my attention back, I noticed the way Wes’s eyes flickered back and forth between my face and my chest. I wondered how many similarities he saw.
“No, I’m not mad,” he finally concluded. But he could tell from my stubborn pout that I didn’t entirely believe him. So, with a dreamy sigh he continued, “I love that you want to help everyone and everything. You’re very kind.”
It was enough praise for me to perk up, although I soon learned that it would be premature. Because just as soon as he told me that he loved my altruism, the catch was coming.
“That being said, we can’t foster all the kittens in the world.”
“But—“ My attempt to cut him off was quickly silenced by a finger over my lips. I scrunched up my face in an early attempt to protest, but Wes finished first.
“But,” he drew out the word before he added with a nod, “we can do a few.”
My demeanor flipped so quickly that I was almost dizzy with it. The bag hanging from my wrist crashed into his side as I tried to hug him more quickly than I was properly coordinated to handle. Luckily, though, the kittens and flapjacks were fine.
I was even more content, nuzzling my face into his shirt and enjoying the way his laugh resonated in his chest. And just like the kitten, Wes held me closer.
When we did finally part, granting mercy to the squirming babies, he gave me a stern look. I narrowed my eyes back at him in a playful challenge, and eventually he said what I had been waiting for.
“You have to promise me not to be a foster failure, though.”
“I won’t!” I shouted, bringing the buddy in my hand to cross my chest in a promise. “Kittens forever!”
“Kittens forever,” he returned with a chuckle before we sealed the deal with one final kiss.
Weeks later, when it was time to say goodbye to our furry little friends, I held true to my promise not to be a foster failure.
The same couldn’t be said for Wes. When I called him out on it following his refusal to let go of his favorite of the bunch, he pointed out very rightly that he'd never made the promise himself.
Still, every couple of weeks, when things finally settle back down and the house falls quiet again, he asks me to go on another breakfast run.
I knew. I knew the day that “Danny Phantom” showed up (though at the time they were calling him Invisobill) that he was my younger cousin, Danny Fenton.
Danny and I are two years apart, and we run in completely different social circles; me with my varsity basketball friends and him with the freshmen geeks. I see him get picked on a lot. I’ve never done anything about it. That’s just how it is, the popular kids pick on the unpopular kids. I was picked on during my freshmen year too, that is, until I made the basketball team. Also, I don’t really want any of my friends to know that we’re related. I mean, let’s be honest, his family is weird (except Jazz, she’s okay. We’re in the same grade and have a few classes together).
Still, I know him well enough to pick out the similarities between Danny and Phantom.
First of all, they look alike. Duh. And even though I have pointed this out to literally everyone no one else seems to notice (but for some reason they think I look like Phantom though).
Secondly, I know his parents inventions are dangerous and would definitely have the ability to give him those powers.
When I was little, before my parents got divorced, my family used to spend a lot of time over at his house, and I was always warned to stay away from the “ghost stuff.” For a while, I thought my mom was just biased because of how much she hates Uncle Jack; but after Aunt Maddie accidentally brought Thanksgiving dinner to life one year, I realized that my mom was right.
Thirdly, my cousin’s hero complex is a dead giveaway.
Being that he is my only male cousin (and given the fact that he used to idolize me a ton) I used to play with him. We played superheroes a lot. And Danny was always, always the hero who had to save the city. I guess that’s just who he is.
What has perplexed me the most about all of this is that it seemed to take a while before Jazz picked up on Danny’s secret. I mean, she’s always been the know-it-all and it still took months for her to notice (I only know because one day she came into class with her laptop researching ghosts and writing notes about them in a word document instead of doing her assignment, which I figured meant that she had figured it out). Perhaps she just thinks about things too logically, or maybe she had been so focused on her grades that she didn’t pay much attention. At any rate, I was not going to be the one to tell her that her brother was Danny Phantom.
Not like she would have believed me in the beginning anyway. Nobody does.
But maybe one day, if or when Danny decides to come clean about his secret, I’ll be able to say “I told you so” to all the oblivious idiots in this city.
Until then, I’m not going to tell him I know. I’ll just let him keep doing what he’s doing; protecting the city, fighting ghosts, hiding his secret.
I guess it is kind of cool that my geeky cousin is a hero.
