#hoe things

Livid doesn’t even cover it.

To say that Annie MacDuff had a strained relationship with Neal Sampat was an understatement. Since the day she had been hired, they had been at each other's throats.

He insisted on calling her Annie, which she was fine with. Marianne MacDuff is a bit long, and she’d used Annie before.

He insisted on getting the door for her, which she could live with. She was a feminist and it was a bit strange that he only did this for her, but she can live.

But the thing that they were squabbling, the world’s dumbest disagreement, was how Neelamani “Neal” Sampat kept changing the colors for the ACN website.

He’d ask her opinion, but he’d move the color up half of a shade. The difference in shade was undetectable to the human eye. Neal, in his limited wisdom, had become somewhat obsessed.

Outside of work, they were friendly, but not quite friends. 

Neal and Annie had been out for drinks after work, with the senior staff. It was simple, something they did every other weekday.

Everything was normal.

Jim had made it known that he was something of a “big brother” type. Any time a creep would start a conversation, he would intercept her and drive the creep off.

He dropped the ball.

She had looked to Jim across the bar, glaring and trying to telepathically summon him over, but Jim had simply made a U-Turn. Annie felt a jolt of panic when the creep in question put his hand on her knee.

Enter, Neal.

He had come in swinging, no plan, no idea of what to do next. It was just a reckless, reflexive action that resulted in Annie kicking the creep in the shin, and dragging Neal out of the bar. 

She had gotten them a cab, and the ride home was silent. 

Neal’s still quiet when he unlocks his door and flicks his lights on. Annie watches carefully as Neal slides off his jacket, and walks over to his half-kitchen to dig out his first aid kit. 

He hadn’t used that kit in two years, he hoped it was still stocked. 

She follows close behind, boots clicking on the wooden floor. Neal’s fumbling trying to get the kit open, and she doesn’t hesitate helping him. Annie unsnaps the case, and pulls out alcohol wipes and gauze. 

Neal’s holding his breath as she takes his hand in hers. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” She says quietly. Annie’s slowly dabbing at his bloody knuckles, while gently tugging on each finger. His hand was too puffy to tell if he’d broken anything yet. 

“He was all over you!” Neal tries, half-heartedly. 

Annie was a grown woman, and likely knew how to handle that situation, whenever Jim wasn’t around at least. 

“I had it handled.” 

“Then why didn’t you handle it?” He snipes back, making Annie clench her jaw. She’s glaring and her eyes could cut him in half. 

“You could have gotten killed!” Neal winces at this. Maybe he did overreact. It’s just that she looked so scared, he couldn’t not.

He huffs, taking Annie’s wrist firmly.

“Don’t be dramatic.” She finishes off the last bandage, scowl cutting deep across her face.

“People in this city have been killed for less.” She snaps, offset by the fact she hasn’t let go of his hand.

Her mind takes her to those terrible scenarios she’d gone over in the taxi.

What if the man had a gun? What if Neal had been stabbed? What if he died and no one could change the color on the website! It’s not like she knew how to do it.

He tries not to react when she tugs on his fingers again, almost mindlessly. Annie’s thinking about how his knuckles are as purple as his bedspread.

And his bed’s right there.

Neal’s not going to lean forward enough to smell her hair. He doesn’t need to, Annie’s floral perfume is soft enough to float up to him on it’s own. And yet he does. Her perfume paired with a coconut shampoo nearly kills him.

“You could have gotten killed!” Annie feels her throat start to tighten. Neal doesn’t even understand. She opens her mouth to say something, but halts and thinks better of it. Emotion crawls over her skin, crawling up and coiling around her neck, stealing the air. 

“Why did you do that?” Annie’s voice breaks, and it feels like Neal’s been hit in the face. She was about to cry, and he did that. He never wants to do that. 

Neal’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 

‘Say something. Tell her something. Explain why you did what you did.’ He tries to find the words, but the air is too thin. The words don’t come.

She lets his hand go, and turns to head for the door. If Neal let her go, he’d never have a shot like this again. If he wasn’t gin-drunk. If his hand wasn’t about to fall off, maybe he would have gotten his point across by now. 

Annie gasps as two large, warm hands, turn her right back where she was. Neal has two arms tight around her waist, and she’s not pulling him off. That had to be a good sign, right? 

“Explain.” She snipes flatly. 

“Do I need to say it?” How could she not know? He’s done everything he could to show her.

And the sinking feeling hung off his shoulders. He failed. 

Neal leans down quickly, pressing his lips to yours. The two of them take a step back, so Annie’s trapped against the counter. Neal’s puffed up to his full height, and yet she doesn’t feel trapped.  

All of the fear that had been sitting in Annie’s stomach turned to butterflies in a single moment. He’s soft. Softer than she’d thought. The tip of his nose is cold. 

Annie wasn’t sure where she was for a moment. 

Neal pulls back too soon. 

“Oh.” Annie gasps. Neal’s usual bravado had been flattened by fear. She’d seen him at every office party with some new girl, pawing at them like he was putting on a show. Neal’s not shy. 

But apparently, he is. 

“Okay.” Annie took a moment, letting her eyes focus, before standing on her tiptoes, and kissing him right back. The redhead wavers for a moment, only to catch a grip on Neal’s sweater. 

He moans softly into her, and it shoots right down to Annie’s toes. 

“I’m still fucking mad at you.” Neal laughs lightly, running his palms across her torso. Underneath, her skin was burning, but he didn’t need to know that. 

Neal’s pressing kisses all over your face and she’s not sure whether she wants to laugh or to cry. He’d had her so stressed and now this. 

“He was twice your size!” She protests, and yet with every bite, every touch, the trademark edge that Marianne MacDuff had worked so hard to cultivate, was being drained from her voice. 

It’s a distraction. Neal’s hands run down her sides, palms shaking even though he’s been plotting this in his mind for months. 

“He wasn’t!” Neal shoots right back, moving his soft mouth to her neck. 

“You’re a twig! He could’ve hurt you!” Annie tries again, but Neal’s more focused on how your hands feel, wandering under his shirt. 

“I’m invincible.” Neal realizes that Annie wasn’t mad, but scared. It nearly knocks him over. Annie’s not sure how she could be tangled up with someone who was this reckless. 

“I’m invincible!” He presses the words into her mouth, making Annie giggle. She’s arching her back into him and he’s meeting her in the middle. Neal’s trying to get her as close as possible, and it still doesn’t feel real.

He made a powerpoint for god sakes! He’d made twelves slides with half-baked logic as to why Annie MacDuff should go out with him. The two of them were solid enough, but now she was grinding against him, and he didn’t know how he got there. 

How did he get this lucky without the powerpoint? 

Everything is hazy and he doesn’t know what to do. 

Well he knows what to do, but he doesn’t know how to go to work tomorrow if this is a one-time thing. 

How is he going to look at her again if this was a one time thing? 

Neal’s going to cross that bridge when he comes to it, but if this was a one-time thing, Annie was going to remember him. 

But he had to move, he had to strike back. It felt like she was everywhere at once. Her hands in his hair, her teeth on his collarbone. 

‘Do something, Sampat.’ He tries to prompt himself, but Annie was taking hungry bites out of his exposed chest. He had nothing. 

But once again, Annie saves the day. 

“It was still dumb,” she snapped, only to be cut off when Neal took a tight grip on Annie’s hair. 

“Got us here didn’t it?” Neal lets his voice take a lower, quieter tone, making Annie shiver in the best way. The low, raspy accent made the fake indifference seem even harder. 

“N-Neal.”

The sound of his name in your mouth, barely more than a gasp, is what breaks him.

He’s back in his body with a bone-chilling clarity of where to start on the list of what he wants to do to you.

Neal drops to his knees. 

He hums as you push into his touch. You’re trying to push into him as hard as you can. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, and now...” I’m going to be worth it, I promise.

Annie doesn’t quite register when Neal dropped to his knees, or when he rolled up her skirt. She knew when Neal dipped two fingers inside of her, taking his sweet time dragging them out, and putting them right into his mouth.

He groans and Annie’s eyes close.

Annie’s arching her spine and trying to reach down, but the scrawny web designer was stronger than he looked, holding her back with a large hand on her torso.

“Can I put my face here? Can I make you scream for me?” She fights the urge to slap him for making everything sound so simple. 

“Y-yes.” Of course you can.

He takes a beat, resting his face on her thigh. The contact hits Annie all at once, Neal’s between her legs. 

Neal. 

“G-god.” He slurs when he takes his view, it’s unreal. She’s not real.

“You know you drive me crazy.” She’s so sweet and warm, and there’s so much of her he hasn’t touched. 

Neal cleared his roster for Annie the first day she came in to work. He never looked back. 

“I always wanted to bend you over my desk, but now we can just do … this.” The words flatten Annie’s lungs, breath leaving her in a gust.

Annie makes a sad, filthy cry as Neal drags a calloused finger over her slit, groaning at just how wet she was for him. Her legs tremble as he starts in with his mouth. He’s mumbling against her pussy. Just as usual, Annie doesn’t give a shit what he’s saying. 

He’s humming, satisfied.

Bastard, Annie thinks. He was sending shockwaves through her with so little effort. He could have gotten seriously hurt tonight! Just because he wanted her, that makes it okay? 

“I just think we’d be good together is all.” A low, raspy accent rumbles into Annie’s legs. 

“Quit distracting me.” She barely opens her mouth to speak, and Neal’s on there, pushing his fingers up into you, and drawing out everything that he can.

“I’m trying to . . . “ She wants to say words, but nothing is coming. 

Annie digs her hands into the counter, and whimpers. 

Marianne MacDuff from Minnesota doesn’t whimper.. 

Annie from ACN does. 

“Trying to what?” Neal smiles into her legs, this can’t be real. There’s no way the recipient of his affections was leaning against his counter, drenching his hands. 

It’s impossible. 

“Fuck,” gasps Annie. Neal’s digging his hands into the redhead's ass, and she’s realizing just how large his hands are. He’s also supporting her as her knees start to give, but Annie’s not focused enough for that. 

“What a coincidence, me too!” He’s so damn chipper. 

Annie leans down and smacks him on the back of the head. She’s shivering and he likes it. Asshole. 

He takes a bite of her leg to retaliate, earning a high-pitched gasp.

She gives him something between a whine and a moan, because Neal pushes his face into her with a kind of desperation Annie had only seen when he was pursuing a story. 

Neal is babbling about how tight she is, how good she tastes, and how he’s been dying for this, and she just wants more.

But then it shifts.

He tells her all of the things he’ll do to her if she wants. 

Fuck this boy has a mouth on him. 

She only takes in about half of it, as he was muffled by her pussy, but the rest she understood and took to heart. Annie’s blood runs hot, fingers scrambling for a grip on Neal’s shirt. 

She tries her best to brace herself, but the best she can do is a grip on his hair, and his strong support on her rear. 

Annie clamps down hard on his tongue. The only thing Neal feels is heat. He doesn’t let up, keeping pressure on her clit, curling his fingers inside her, trying to drink all that he can. 

The sob is strangled because Annie’s about to throw a fit. He’d been so good to her, his hands were amazing but she still needed more. 

The redhead opens her mouth to ask, but all she can do is whine. Neal’s nose pressing into her leg, breath puffing out over her skin.

He has to wait a moment to recover. She’s not one to tell a drowning man what to do. 

Neal uses the counter to get up off his knees. 

“Come to bed with me.” Internally, Neal cringes at how small his voice sounds. Annie opens her eyes to stare up at him. 

She exhales slowly, resting her head against his chest, before giving him a warm smile. 

“Okay.” Neal moves slowly, taking his time sucking at her lips. 

Annie takes this opportunity to push the rumpled plaid shirt off of his shoulders, not forgetting his injured hand. 

He loosened his grip on her waist, just enough to see if she could stand on her own. 

She does, but it takes a moment. 

Annie takes slow, deliberate steps toward Neal’s bed, pulling her skirt down, and her shirt over her head. 

Neal’s practically salivating.

Annie wasn’t sure where her underwear had gone to, but Neal sure seemed thrilled about the bra.

It was a demi-cup, white, unlined.

Annie was thanking every version of god there was that today was the day she was trying out a new set.

Neal could see everything, and he was fucking thrilled. 

“That-that’s quite pretty.” He calls across the room. 

“Thanks.” Annie runs both of her hands over her nipples, getting them hard through the sheer fabric. She might have put in an extra gasp or two, just for the sake of her audience. 

“Really good craftsmanship.” Neal says. ‘My hands can do that too’ He means.

Annie could have burst out laughing, she had never seen someone look that happy before. And she hadn't even taken it off yet! 

She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs. 

Neal’s over by her in an instant, kneeling down, taking off her boots. Annie gets up, and pushes Neal flat on his back, crawling on top of him. 

It was at this point that Neelamani Sampat was pretty sure that at some point that night, he’d died and gone to heaven. 

“You look pretty good on your knees, Sampat.” He’s smiling at that. 

“I know.” 

And with that, Annie leans down for a kiss. Initially, it was supposed to be soft, but it turned a bit more heated the moment she tasted herself in his mouth. 

Neal’s smooth and warm and Annie doesn’t want to leave. She likes being above him, and having him look at her like that.

Had he had that expression before? Or had she just missed it. 

Neal’s hands were starting to wander, grabbing and squeezing wherever he wanted. He was trying to work his way to her bra, without coming across like a complete teenage boy obsessed with breasts.

He was a 22 year old man who was still obsessed with breasts. Annie’s specifically. 

But he’s thwarted. The clasp required too much flexibility from his right hand. It felt as if his entire arm had been struck by lightning. 

“Aw FUCK.” Neal’s face twists in pain. Annie fights the instinct to panic, and instead redirects his arm above his head. 

Why did women wear those things? Why didn’t they just stop? 

Why didn’t Annie just stop wearing bras all together, to be … convenient. She’d save money at the stores too! 

“Are you okay?” Annie practically shouts. If Neal was going to die, she’d tell Jim he died from an impossible bra. Neal would like that, she thought. 

Annie curls over Neal, taking his injured hand in her own. She’s checking every finger carefully, being thorough like she always was. 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” He tries, finding it hard to breathe. Neal’s clenching his jaw and trying to act as if that jolt of pain from his hand didn’t go straight to his skull. 

Neal feels his cock twitch against his leg. Fuck.

“Do you need to stop?” She tries, but he vigorously shakes his head. ‘He looks cute on his back’, Annie thinks.

Annie puts his hand on his chest, arching her back, and unlatching her bra.

“Does this make you feel better?” Annie puts his hands on her chest, and arches her back, finishing the job of unlatching her bra. 

Gravity kicks in and Neal can’t respond to any logic. 

When Annie moved to New York, she’d tried to convince herself that her and her peers were ‘adults’. Neal looking at her chest like he’d just been set loose on the M&M store in Times Square was not helping this though process. 

She laughs at him, and he doesn’t mind. He grabs them, cupping them and pressing sweet kisses 

“It was still stupid,” Something flips behind Neal’s eyes, colder, more serious. He takes her wrists for a half-second, eye contact sending a chill through her. 

He takes a grip on Annie’s waist, and flips the smaller woman onto her back. The mattress takes the hit effortlessly. 

“Neal, I-” But he starts in on her chest again, biting and licking her in a pace and touch bordering dangerously close to vicious.  

The sounds falling out of Annie’s mouth are too pretty for him to slow down. But he has to. He has to ask a question.

The sparks sitting on Annie’s skin catch fire as Neal grunts getting on top of her.

“Neal what the fuck?” 

He was only slightly regretting what he’d done, but then Annie scrunched up her nose in the way she did when she was mad at him. 

Neal senses that she’s going to break him in half, so he takes each of Annie’s wrists and pins them up above her head. This plan backfires immediately. He feels himself start to shake, and he needs to close his eyes. 

“TellmeonlyIgettotouchyou!” 

Annie’s eyes widened, Neal was nervous? Weren’t these his usual evening plans? 

His breath made her feel hotter than she already was, and she wants to ask what the hell he’s doing. 

“Tell me only I get to touch you,” Neal brushes his nose against hers. Annie opens her mouth, as if to say something, but the words don’t form. 

“Kiss you, hold you, only us.” A broken cry makes its way out, and it makes Neal question everything. 

“I need to hear you say it.” 

“Neelamani Sampat, you better be serious.” Everything was too hot, too loud. Annie could have reached up to snap his neck, or kissed him until nothing made sense anymore. She’d wanted him since her first day on the job, and all of that time put them both here. 

Together. Like this. 

He just confessed feelings! Big feelings! 

“Fucking tell me, please.” He pleads softly, getting self conscious. Neal rests his nose in her neck, like it’s a good place to hide. His skin's starting to get cold, and Annie’s starting to wiggle against him. 

Nothing is fair. He’s an absolute fool to think she’d want him, especially with his reputation. 

“Please…” Neal’s voice sounds shattered. Annie’s head starts to buzz. 

“Tell me your mine.” His voice is just honest. It’s overwhelming. This couldn’t be a move he pulls with other women. Neal from ACN isn’t this good of an actor, there’s no way. 

It’s Neal

“I’m yours. I promise.” 

“Still want this?” He asks, and she practically rolls her eyes, soft hair clashing with his bedspread. She wants everything he has, but she won’t say that yet. 

“Of course I do.” Annie wants to grab at him, but her hands are still shaking. The kiss she manages to pull him into is messy. He’s ecstatic, like a puppy. 

“Let me get a-” Annie cuts Neal off, putting all of the days she’d walked to work to use, trapping him with her legs. 

“Birth control, wanna feel you.” Neal’s jaw drops, and Annie has to laugh. She takes advantage of his open mouth. 

Neal doesn’t waste any time pushing up into her, the blunt pressure of him… was almost overwhelming. Annie was already winded from being flipped on her back! 

But she was shocked, stunned, in disbelief. It felt as if he was somehow hitting the back of her throat, and Annie made a note to revisit the various pieces of office gossip she’d heard about Neelamani Sampat. 

Just a few short movements turn the backs of Annie’s eyelids into white. Neal’s hands stopped hurting a while ago, and he’d dig it into her ass for support. The other is still on her clit, determined. 

How could she feel like this in two moves? Extensive practice? Who cares! 

It was a simple command.

“Let New York know who fucks you like this.” Annie squirms under his weight, whining. 

So she does. Writhing, moaning, scratching because she wasn’t afraid of anything. Nea’s neighbors were going to hate him, but even if she was never invited back, they’d remember she was here. 

Even if he wouldn’t. 

Annie was a bruised, gasping mess, and Neal doesn’t let up. He fucks into her like it’s what he was born to do. 

“Fuck. That’s it.” Her back is arch, and yet the two of them can’t get close enough. Neal doesn’t notice that Annie’s practically pulling out his hair. 

Neal’s clearly gone, but he knows it. He’s murmuring a string of curses and compliments into her mouth and neck.

Annie wants to tell him how good she feels. How she loves this, how she wants more. But Annie MacDuff can’t speak. 

“Let me feel you come undone for me…” and as if on cue, she bares down around him again,” ...fuck… with me.” 

Neal follows her all the way down. 

He fucks her through the haze as best as he possibly can. The first words Annie hears for certain are,”no one else can have you, I’ll scare them off.” 

Neal leans into Annie’s neck again, teeth grazing gently, as if he was holding back. His teeth made Annie calm somehow, the little gasps in her ear felt like music. 

“You wanna mark me up, Sampat?” She mumbles into his neck. Her hands smooth over his chest. 

“You wanna let the people know?” 

“Know what?” Annie’s eyes widened for a moment, as she forgot what she was actually trying to say. 

“I-I forgot.” She feels Neal crack a smile in the crook of her neck. 

“Good.” 

Annie lets out a large yawn, and Neal’s eyelids are getting heavy. She could feel it, whatever it was. 

She has to force herself to get up, be responsible, even though the exhaustion said otherwise. 

Neal’s a little tired, but still afraid. 

“I need to go home and change.” The first clear thought of the night pokes through the haze that Neal had hung around the two of them. It must have been two hours before they were both needed at work again. 

Annie runs her hands around the bed, trying to find out where any of her clothes ended up. Being responsible sucks. 

“Annie tomorrow’s Saturday.” He grumbles, flat. If she wanted to leave, he’d be fine. 

Right? 

“Oh.” Annie cracks a smile, and it feels like the sun’s just come out. 

She doesn’t hesitate. Neal pulls his comforter back and she crawls right to him. Annie rests her head on his warm chest, he leans his cheek against her. A few heartbeats pass and she’s fast asleep.