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Joe MacMillan (Halt and Catch Fire)/ Lee Pace Fan Fiction
18+, nsfw, all that jazz (it’s smut, people)
It was late. The office was empty. I thought I was the only one still there. Which was why I was barefoot, with my nylons off, and my hair out of it’s normal french braid. I was on my way back from the bathroom when I heard a door slam. Then the heavy tread of boots on the polished floor. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that it was him. Joe MacMillan. Not that he had any idea who I was, but I sure knew who he was. He was kind of hard to miss. Not too many guys are almost 6 ½ feet tall, but it wasn’t just his size, he was one of those guys who just took over the room when he was in it. He looked a little less polished than he normally did too. His jacket and tie were off, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up and the top couple of buttons were undone. His brown hair was messed up, like he had been running his hands through it, and he looked tired. He even had the stubble of a beard on his usually clean shaven face. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand that he was frowning down at as he walked toward me, his heavy eyebrows drawn together with a deep wrinkle forming between them.
I was frozen watching him, afraid to move and have him notice me staring at him. So, I was still standing there, like an idiot, when he walked right into me. I knew he was tall, but I had never had the opportunity to be so close to him before, so I was shocked at the sheer scale of him. His rib cage hit me square in the upper back and his shoulder bumped me in the back of the head. He looked up with an expression of annoyance on his face and I was sure he was about to tell me off. His chest was rock hard and I could feel the bulge of his muscles against my back. I couldn’t move away from him if I had wanted to, so I just stood there pressed against him. All I could do was turn my head to the side to look at up at him over my shoulder. I could feel the muscles in his shoulder flex slightly as my head leaned back against him. His eyes met mine and his jaw tensed. His eyes were a gorgeous hazel color, green along the outside with a brown ring around his pupils. He glared down at me, unblinking.
I couldn’t look away from him and was half expecting him to shove me out of his way at any moment. Or ask me what the hell I was doing. Instead he tossed the sheaf of papers onto a nearby desk with one hand and reached the other hand into the hair on the back of my head and grabbed a fist full of my hair. The ache of anticipation was already starting to build deep inside me. I took a deep breath, and caught the faint scent of the expensive cologne that he had probably applied that morning. He tipped my head further back, pulling it harder against his shoulder as he continued to glare down at me. He wasn’t hurting me, but I wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted to rip out a handful of my own hair. I was starting to breathe faster and I’m not sure what look I had on my face, but he leaned down and dropped an open mouthed kiss on my mouth. He tasted like coffee and oddly, chocolate. He was tugging a little harder on my hair now and his lips were hard against mine. His breathing had become a little uneven as he kissed me. Suddenly he pulled back, eyes hooded, with his jaw slightly jutting out.
He studied me for a moment, then his mouth was back against mine, even harder and more demanding this time. I couldn’t help myself and let out a moan as I felt his tongue against mine. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he explored every inch of my mouth. He still had my head pinned against his shoulder by my hair in his fist, but now his other hand was sliding along my hip, pulling the rest of my body back, tight against his. His belt buckle was digging into my back about half way up and I could feel his heat and hardness pressing against my lower back. A matching wetness was growing between my legs. His breath was hot in my mouth as our tongues twisted together. We were both breathing hard now and he was pulling my arm up, over my head, and on to his unoccupied shoulder. I ran my hand up the back of his neck and buried it in the hair on the back of his head as he ran his hand down my arm and across my collar bone. Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t going to try to escape, he untangled his fist from my hair and ran that hand down the outside of my other arm to my hip.
He slid slowly down against my back, spreading his long legs apart so he wasn’t towering over me quite as much. He broke the kiss and without moving his huge hand off my collarbone, reached up with his thumb and pressed gently against my chin to turn my head to the front. He took a ragged breath next to my ear and then trailed a series of hot open mouthed kisses down the side of my neck to my shoulder. His other hand was holding my hip firmly against him as he started grinding his hips slightly against me. By this point, I was grasping his forearm with my unoccupied hand and breathing heavily as I started moving own hips in rhythm with his, pushing against him as he pushed against me. His was already as hard as steel and I could feel the fabric of his pants straining as he rocked against me, each time a little harder than the last.
He was almost gasping for breath as his mouth got harder and hotter against my neck. The stubble on his face was chafing my skin every so slightly, and I could feel a hint of teeth in the last kiss. His hand fumbled at the top buttons of my shirt, eager to expose more skin. I couldn’t hold back another moan as he slid his hand down my leg and started yanking up the knee length skirt I was wearing. He had enough of my shirt undone to expose my entire shoulder and he was moving along it now, leaving a hot trail behind his mouth. He finally found the bottom of my skirt and his hand slid up underneath it to caress the skin on the inside of my thigh. I still had one hand on the back of his head, feeling the muscles in his neck flexing as he kissed back up my shoulder to my neck. My other hand was still on his arm, urging his hand to move higher up my thigh. There was an undeniable fire between my legs now.
The hand on my thigh paused for a moment, as the hand on my collarbone moved back down to the buttons on my shirt. He undid a couple more buttons to allow him to slip a hand down the front of my shirt and slide it over my breast. I gasped as he brushed my already hardened nipple with his thumb over the outside of my bra. He cupped my breast in his large hand and slid a couple of long fingers over the top of my bra and down inside drawing yet another moan from me as he gently pinched at my nipple. There was no doubt about the teeth grazing my neck now in addition to his tongue. He was still rolling his hips against me and if possible he had gotten even harder, when suddenly the hand on my thigh was in motion again. He slid it all the way up and in one motion hooked the top of my panties and gave them a yank downward, so that they slid down my legs to land on the floor. I stepped out of them with one foot and then his fingers were sliding down between my legs and plunging inside of me.
At that point, I gave up any pretense of being quiet and started moaning out loud. His fingers felt amazing as they slid in and out of me. I started bucking my hips harder, wanting as much contact with his hand as possible. He slid his other hand out of my shirt and slid it down to my other hip, holding me even tighter to his body as he continued to grind against my back. His kisses and now bites to my neck were becoming erratic as he focused his attention on the hand between my legs. Everytime he slid his fingers out of me, he ran them up and over my clit, making me cry out. Then he would slide them back down inside of me, reaching deep inside me. I was so close already and he had barely started touching me. Suddenly he gave a groan, the first noise I had heard from him, and slid his hand out from under my skirt.
Before I could protest, he was pulling me around to face him. He looked down at me for a moment, then lifted me up like I weighed nothing at all. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as he kissed me full on the mouth again, his tongue insistent. I didn’t even realize we were moving until my back hit the wall. He hoisted me up even further, pressing me against the wall with his body. He reached up and with both hands began fumbling with the rest of the buttons on my shirt. When he couldn’t get the last couple undone quickly enough, he simply gave my shirt a yank and the rest of the buttons went flying. I had managed to unbutton his shirt while he was working on mine. I ran my hands over his chest, wondering at the ropey, raised, flesh my fingertips encountered. Then he was kissing down the side of my neck and I forgot to wonder about it anymore.
His lips traveled down my neck and over my collarbone. By this point, I was almost incoherent, reduced to nothing but whimpers as his mouth moved even lower, towards the top of my bra. I had both my hands buried in his hair and was rolling my hips against him as he slid down a bit lower to get access to what he wanted. One hand was sliding underneath me and starting to fumble with his belt, as his other hand slid the bra strap down my shoulder. He unceremoniously yanked the front of my bra down, exposing me to him, as he moved his mouth ever lower. I don’t think I had ever been so turned on in my life. I was practically dripping and frantically rubbing myself against his stomach as he finally ran his tongue over my nipple. It was like being on fire and having gasoline dumped on the blaze. As he teased me with his tongue, sucking gently at first, but then harder and harder on my nipple, I heard the rasp of his zipper and the soft sound of fabric puddling on the floor.
He released my nipple and slid his mouth slowly back up to my mouth and kissed me urgently again. Then he let my body slide down the front of his until I could feel the tip of him pressed against me. He stopped, holding me at that point, and pulled his head back to look me in the eyes again. Whatever he saw in my eyes must have been what he wanted to see, because he started slowly rocking his hips, sliding bit by tiny bit into me. I was moaning and gasping for breath and he was breathing so hard it was almost a gasp each time he slid a little further into me. He never broke eye contact with me until he was fully seated inside of me. With a groan, he pulled almost all the way out, braced his arms on the wall on either side of me, and then slammed his full length back into me. We both cried out and he dropped his head onto my shoulder.
He slammed into me again, but I could feel that he was holding back. I wrapped my legs more firmly around his waist and rolled my hips against him as he thrust into me again and again. He was gasping and moaning against my shoulder and I didn’t think he would last much longer. Suddenly he slowed, visibly gaining control of himself, and put a hand on each of my hips. He pulled my hips toward him, changing the angle and hitting something deep inside me. I cried out and thrashed my hips, but he wouldn’t let go. He raised his head from my shoulder, his hair damp and curling with sweat, and looked in my eyes again. I cried out again as he hit that spot inside me with another thrust of his hips. His lips found mine again as he set a steady pace. My legs were starting to shake as the pressure built inside of me. He could feel it too and his rhythm started to falter a bit as I shook and moaned. He didn’t let up though, not until he could feel my muscles start to clench around him. Then he took a deep breath and slammed into me as hard as he could as I screamed. As the waves of pleasure rushed over me, he gave one final thrust and moan and I felt the hot gush of his release inside of me.
He let go of my hips and pulled me slightly off the wall so he could wrap his arms around me. He dropped his head to my shoulder again and I rested my head against his damp hair. We were both breathing hard and it took a few moments to catch our breath as we held each other. As our heartbeats returned to normal, he lifted his head off my shoulder and kissed me gently. He had softened inside of me and he shifted gently to slide out, without letting go of me. He looked at me, almost tenderly, and said in a low voice, “I’m Joe.” I smiled shyly back at him and said, “I’m Lily. Nice to meet you.”
The echoes used to be distracting. Obi-Wan remembered the days when he could cross the entire third level corridor just listening to the ring of his own footfalls, and even then it would take a near-collision at the end of it to recall him to his present mission. Not today. He hardly noticed his own booted tread, mingled as it was with a few others as he shouldered his way past the Council Chamber, and entered the conference room.
He was awaited. He’d been told that a solitary messenger had asked for him on a mission of utmost secrecy. What he wasn’t prepared for was the sight of a young woman, clad head to toe in black, her hair a fiery cascade that still made his throat clench for reasons he dare not name. He cleared his throat, partially to clear the uncomfortable reminder, and partially to announce his presence.
It’s raining again, the great spout of water in the sky had opened up once more, and that just meant one thing for the slightly dismembered Wade: more mud in his unattached arm. “Goddamn, probably already have gangrene in this thing”, Wade muttered, shaking his limb around like a sock puppet. ‘You can’t get gangrene you idiot’ a box prompted him. He rolled his eyes through his torn mask, trudging his way onto the brick pathway through Charles’s garden, the thick treads of his boots leaving watery tracks. He didn’t even spare a moment to glance down, and instead, focused on the small wooden side door to the laundry room, hoping to pull the raggedy pile of flesh that was his body into a dry area.
All of this should have been no surprise to Charles, who had seen him in rougher conditions, hell, he’d seen Wade dead before. So when the soles of Wade’s boots hit crinkly tarp instead of stone tile, Wade almost smirked at how predictable he was becoming. Hell, he might as well don a briefcase and a tie. His mind wandered to visions of a scantily clad Charles waiting for him, martini in hand. Oh hot damn, if that didn’t mean home, he didn’t know what did. He slid his feet out of his boots with one hand, throwing the arm haphazardly onto the tarp, before closing the door behind him.
“Lucy, I’m hoome” He called out, excited to be back early. He had made more of a habit of staying at Charles’s manor, hell, he was almost living there. He kept a spare rubber ducky in the shower, and he had made himself and Charles more than a few pancakes on more than a few occasions. He picked up his arm and walked down the hall to the kitchen in his rainbow toe socks, giddy with a craving to give Charles one hell of a smooch.
The owner of the voice that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last two weeks was standing in front of him. If Thranduil wasn’t mistaken, Bard was nervous. Given the way he’d reacted the last time they’d spoken, that wasn’t terribly surprising. What was surprising was that Bard was still willing to talk to him at all. Squashing the little voice of doubt that questioned his motives, Thranduil gestured to the bench, and then felt it give a little under the extra weight.