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bjwmastermind-writes · 3 days ago

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ch.1 - fences and cities- dbf! joel miller x oc! miriam

Chapter One of "Fences and Cities" dbf! joel miller x reader

To check out the series and what it's about click here!

mentions: girthy age gap (24-47), dad's best friend, joel miller is a warning on its own!

Minors stay out or read at your own risk! I'm not responsible for your consumption!

divider by @cafekitsune

Montana

The old, familiar smell of Montana—pine trees and fresh air—mingles with the dust of the small airport parking lot. Your heavy and unwieldy suitcase pulls at your shoulder as you trudge toward the terminal doors. Your stomach growls loudly, betraying your irritation. Where is he? You glance at your phone, but there are no texts.

Rolling your eyes, you mutter under your breath, “Where the hell is he?” Your voice is tight, a mix of frustration from travel, hunger, and something deeper—an unease about what’s ahead. Montana was never a bad place, but leaving New York had been… complicated.

A voice calls your name, and you lift your gaze to see him stepping out of the truck.

The sound of a truck engine rumbles in the distance, and your eyes snap to it. Relief floods you for a moment, but it quickly sharpens into something else as the truck pulls to a stop in front of you. He’s finally here. But, of course, he doesn’t seem rushed. He flashes you a half-smile, like he’s entirely unbothered, and you feel the urge to roll your eyes again.

"Sorry," he calls from the truck, his voice still casual. "Got caught up with some things around here." He leans back against the side of the truck, looking at you in a way that suddenly makes you feel a little off-kilter. It’s Joel, for crying out loud—your dad’s friend, someone you’ve known for years. But there’s something about him now, something different.

"It’s okay, just don’t do that again, okay? I waited so long," you say, your voice carrying a hint of frustration, but with a playful undertone.

He grins, leaning against the truck. "Oh, please, it was only a few minutes, Miss New York. Have you forgotten what it’s like here?" His tone is teasing, but there’s a soft warmth to it that catches you off guard.

His smile is the same, his voice the same, yet there's an intensity in his eyes you’ve never noticed before. A teasing glint, sure, but also something more—a quiet pull that makes your stomach flip. You never saw him like this before.

As he drives, you can’t help but steal glances at him from the corner of your eye. You’ve always known Joel—your dad’s friend, the guy who always had a joke ready or was fixing something around the house. But something’s different today. You notice the way the light hits his profile as he concentrates on the road, the way his jaw tightens when he makes a turn, and the easy confidence in the way he moves.

“So, how’s New York treating you lately?” he asks, his gaze flicking to her briefly before returning to the road.

“It’s been good. Work has been killing me, for sure, but there’s something about it I like as well,” you say, leaning back against the seat. “The people I’ve met so far are nice—we go out often. The city is lovely, very loud, but it doesn’t take away from its charm.”

Joel huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “New York is lovely? Never heard anyone say that before.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “It is if you know where to look. It has this… energy, you know? Everything is moving all the time, and I kinda like that.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Sometimes,” you admit, glancing out the window. “But it makes you feel alive.”

Joel hums in response, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “And yet, here you are. Back in Montana.”

You go quiet for a moment, exhaling softly. “Yeah, well, I guess one can get a little homesick after all. Plus, I had to be here for my dad.”

Joel chuckles, a low, knowing sound, and glances at you. “Yeah, I get that.” Without thinking, he reaches out, his hand landing on your shoulder in a brief but solid squeeze—comforting, familiar. His touch is warm, and steady, and for some reason, it lingers in your mind even after he pulls away.

The truck falls into a quiet lull, only the hum of the tires against the road filling the space between you two. It’s not awkward, but it feels… different. Why does it feel different?

Just as you’re about to get lost in your thoughts, your stomach lets out a loud, unmistakable growl.

Joel smirks, side-eyeing you. “Hungry much?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my god, that was so loud.”

“Loud enough to scare off the wildlife,” he teases. “Guess that answers where we’re going next.”

That makes you laugh too, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

He smirks, eyes still crinkled with amusement. “Guess that answers where we’re going next.”

You peek at him between your fingers. “Let me guess… the diner?”

Joel grins. “Best damn burger and fries in town.”

You sigh dramatically but can’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

Joel chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s on me”

By the time you reach the diner, your thoughts are tangled. You don’t know why you’re suddenly noticing him differently, but it’s all you can think about.

You slide into a booth, the hum of conversation around you two. As you both settle into your seats, you clear your throat, unsure how to bring it up.

“So,” you start, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the edge from your voice, “When did you turn into this?” You gesture vaguely, not sure how to articulate the thought. “It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time or something.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What are you talking about?”

You take a breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “I don’t know, just... you. You're different. I don’t know if I’m just imagining it, but you look different.”

His smile fades a little, but there’s a glimmer of something behind his eyes. “I’m the same. Maybe you’re just seeing things.” He looks at you, his voice quieter now. “Maybe you’re different.” He looks back at the menu like he didn’t just shake something loose inside you.

Your pulse quickens at his words. You weren’t expecting that response. It hangs between you, heavier than the usual banter, and suddenly, you’re not so sure how to navigate this space between the two of you anymore.

The silence stretches out just long enough for it to feel a little too much, and you, ever the quick thinker, decide to break it. You clear your throat, leaning in a little with a playful smile.

“Hey, did I tell you what happened at the airport?” you ask, your voice light but eager to shift the energy.

Joel looks over at you, eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued. “No, what happened?”

You smirk, your eyes lighting up as you launch into the story. “They took my bagel. Like, actually took it.”

Joel laughs, clearly amused, shaking his head. “So that explains why you're starving, huh?”

You nod, your face scrunching with playful frustration. “You have no idea. I was ready to fight for it, but I just didn’t have the energy after the whole ordeal.”

You are mid-sentence when the waiter stops by, setting down your food with a polite nod. You barely notice, too caught up in the story you’re telling, hands gesturing slightly as you speak.

“So there I am, at JFK, running on zero sleep and way too much airport coffee, and I swear, the TSA guy looks at my bag like it’s personally offended him. He pulls me aside, right? Starts digging through my stuff like I’m smuggling national secrets, and then—” You pause for dramatic effect, a smirk tugging at your lips. “He pulls out a single, perfectly wrapped bagel. Just one. Like it’s contraband.”

Joel huffs a quiet laugh, watching you. Not just listening—watching. The way you lean in slightly, how your eyes light up when you’re caught in the middle of a story, how you always talk with your hands just a little.

“What did he do?” he asks, voice low but amused.

You grin. “Looks me dead in the eye and says, ‘Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to explain this.’ Like I’m running some underground bagel operation.”

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “And what did you say?”

“I panicked! I just went, ‘Sir, it’s a bagel. I swear I’m not dangerous.’” You lean back with a laugh, shaking your head. “I think he was just bored, honestly. But for a second, I thought I was gonna end up on a no-fly list over a poppy seed bagel.”

Joel watches you as your laughter lingers, your shoulders still shaking slightly. There’s something different about you—he’s sure of it now. Not just the way you carry yourself, but the way you fill the space around you, like you belong in it. It’s new.

Joel, though—he’s still looking at you. The story’s over, but his gaze lingers like he’s turning something over in his mind. Finally, he says, “You always talk like that?”

You raise a brow. “Like what?”

His mouth quirks, but there’s something thoughtful in the way he watches you. “Like you belong wherever you are.”

The words catch you off guard. There’s no teasing in his voice, no hint of the usual back-and-forth. Just a quiet observation.

Your heart skips, pulse-quickening as you force a smirk. “Montana air,” you say lightly. “Does wonders.”

Joel doesn’t press, just lets out a small hum, but there’s a weight to his silence now. Something that lingers.

Neither of you moves to shake it off.

You finish your meal in silence, the kind of quiet that’s not uncomfortable but feels different—charged, maybe, or just heavier than usual. You keep your focus on your plate, unsure of what to say or do next.

After a few moments, you stretch your legs out under the table, not thinking much of it, until you accidentally brush your foot against Joel’s. Neither of you pulls away immediately. The brief contact makes your stomach twist, and you’re suddenly aware of how close you are, how you can feel the warmth of his presence even through the table.

You glance up quickly, your face flushing slightly as you pretend it didn’t happen. “Oops, sorry about that.”

Joel’s lips curl into a small, teasing smile. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice is steady, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer than usual. The tension between you feels different now, thicker, and you feel a shift in the air, one that makes you unsure of how to move forward.

Finally, breaking the silence, Joel shifts in his seat and looks at you with a more casual tone. “Ready to get going?” He gives you a teasing glance. “Let’s get the bill. Your dad must be wondering what took so long.”

You force a laugh, grateful for the change in pace. “Yeah, he probably thinks we’re getting into trouble or something.” You reach for your purse, trying to shake off the moment’s weight.

Joel pulls into the driveway, the sound of the gravel crunching under the tires as he stops. He glances at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll let you settle in, and spend some time with your dad. Bet he missed you,” Joel says, turning off the engine.

You grab your suitcase, struggling to pull it out of the trunk, the weight of it catching you off guard.

Joel raises an eyebrow, still seated in the car. “Need some help with that?”

You shake your head, forcing a smile as you maneuver the suitcase out of the trunk. “No, that’s okay. I got it.”

As you manage to free it, you turn back to him. “Thanks, Joel. For the drive. And the food. Good actions, all around.”

Joel chuckles, the sound low and warm. “You’re welcome. doll”

The word catches you off guard, a flicker of surprise tightening your chest. You don’t expect that nickname from him—rough and practical as he is—but there’s no time to linger on it. You shake it off quickly, masking whatever it stirs with a small nod before stepping out of the car.

The night air is cool against your skin as you start toward the front door, your pulse still a little quicker than usual.

Joel stays in the car a moment longer, his gaze lingering on you. He tells himself it’s just for security—making sure you get inside safely—but somehow, it feels like more than that. He watches you until the front door opens and your dad steps outside, arms outstretched.

“There she is!” Your dad grins, enveloping you in a hug. “Welcome home!”

You laugh and hug him back. “I missed you, too, Dad.”

Joel leans back in his seat and clears his throat, a brief, awkward moment hanging between him and your family. “Take care you two,” he calls out with a quick wave, as he shifts the car into gear.

Your dad waves back, calling out to him. “Thanks again, Joel! Really appreciate the help.”

Joel gives a small grin, rolling his eyes playfully. Your dad laughs as he steps back into the house, and Joel pulls away, disappearing down the street.

You watch him leave, feeling a strange mix of emotions you can't quite place before heading inside with your dad.

Welcome to the first chapter of my series Fences and Cities! I’m so excited to share this story with you. I hope you enjoyed the beginning, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment—it really helps the story reach more readers. Stay tuned for what’s to come!

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doggirlnarcolepsy · 1 year ago

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#wish I had someone to talk other than my partner but I haven't had a real friend besides her in literal years #I'm so bad at reaching out to people and when I finally work up the courage to try to make friends real life stuff always gets in the way #and then I spend so much time dealing with that that I end up drifting apart from everyone. even if everything was going well #or I end up fucking the entire thing up irreparably because of my BPD episodes make me push people away to self-destruct #or i just end up becoming too obsessive which also usually pushes people away in the end #I just wish I could stop feeling this soul-crushing loneliness and have a friend that really cared for once #and that I could stop falling in love with everyone who's shows me even the smallest thread of kindness because I crave affection like air #because that always ends terribly..#I barely feel real. I just sit around day in and day out feeling completely empty and non-existent. like I'm not even there to begin with #I just don't know how much longer I can keep that up for.. I just feel so exhausted

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luvyeni · 4 months ago

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PERSONAS ,, 이제노

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeno is surprised by your persona... both of them ヾ

PORNSTAR!이제노・ CAMGIRL!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ 6.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning... sex on film, rough-ish sex, oral sex ( M ), unprotected sex, facial

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 finally did a fic based on this photoshoot , doesn’t he look like a 80’s pornstar?

camgirling was only supposed to be something you did for fun, and the cash you got from it wasn't too bad either — you never expected to blow up like you did, the people really liked you.

when you first started it was slow, but that didn't last long and soon you gained a small following. it wasn't until you did a face reveal that you blew up — the fans loved you; that day alone you gained 100k new followers. from that day on you only grew more; more money rolled in which granted you the ability to move into a bigger apartment, pay off your debts and live comfortably without stress.

“it's your persona” your friends would say; you weren't shy about you did for work; you felt like you didn't need to be — no you weren't telling a stranger on the street you did camgirling , but you didn't hide it from your friends. “you're a walking porn trope.” donghyuck; your best friend said. “innocent girl next door look , but we all saw you deepthroat a 6in dildo without gagging.”

that should've offended you but you were used to it. “yeah , that pigmented blush bows and wide puppy dog eyes is cute and all, but it's that and the fact that you bounced on a 7in strap-on attached to a stuffed bear that turns people on.” ryujin said. “you have a face for porn.”

“is there a difference?” your friends looked at you. “duh , of course!” haechan said. “camgirling is mostly done in the comfort of your own home , low production.” he said. “porn is different, with porn there's a script almost like a movie with a crew , and another actor.” you and ryujin both looked at each other. “uh you seem real passionate about that…” he shrugged. “I'm a man of course i do , that's why i know you would be perfect for porn.”

“what would i get out of bad acting in room full of men with hardon watching me be badly fucked by another macho man on viagra and red bull?” you scoffed. “expect a sore clit and a cumshot to the face that tastes like battery acid?” ryujin looked around the cafe where you were sitting , making sure no one heard the conversation. “would you both keep it down?”

“more money, a new following.” he responded nonchalantly , your ears perked up. “go on.” you said now listening. “well the website you use now, it's big but it's niche , only a few new visitors monthly.” he started. “you do one porn video with a good actor with a good following , bingo! you get a new following from his following and it reaches a bigger audience who stumble across your video.” you had to admit although he was loud and you're pretty sure the sweet old lady walking past heard everything, he talked a big game.

“what are you a porn star scout?” ryujin laughed while taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “wait is that a thing?” he asked, you shook your head. “that does sound good, my rent just went up and there's a new pair of shoes that have been sitting in my cart.” you said. “yn don't do porn for a pair of louboutins and rent , get a roommate.” ryujin said, trying to be the voice of reason. “would you do it?” you asked her.

“i love you so i would never lie to you.” she said. “yeah , give me the script.” the three of you busting out into a fit of laughter. “plus if you don't like it then you can easily go back to camgirling.” she said. “and i don't think all male pornstars are bad.”

“and you know this how?” she looked at you. “you think i don't watch porn?” she questioned. “the acting? horrible but who's watching porn for the plot.” haechan raised his hand. “haechan be fucking for real.” you snickered. “what big dick delivery man and hot lonely milf is a work of art.” he said with a serious face. “oh he serious i think.” ryujin said. “that's the scary thing.”

“you know not all the acting is bad either.” ryujin spoke up. “yeah jeno is good even my dick gets hard when i listen to him speak.” you choose to ignore him. “who's jeno.” you asked. “you don't know jeno? the lee jeno, he's huge in the porn world.” ryujin said, you scoffed. “sorry im not familiar with the ryan reynolds of porn.” you said. “you think ryan reynolds would do porn?”

“lee jeno is a huge pornstar; he doesn't even just do porn , he's a model, he walks on runways as well , he's invited into classy spaces despite showing the world his dick.” the girl explained. “and i heard the girls he fucks on camera…” she said. “those orgasms are real.” haechan nodded in agreement. “i heard that too.”

“if you could get with him, you'd be set.” you rolled your eyes. “if he's as good as you say why the fuck would he film a video with me?” you scoffed. “pussy is pussy and money is money.” ryujin shrugged , the horrified worker walked past making the three of you laugh. “my god ryu , you sound like a man.”

“check him out; i swear you'll understand why he's famous.”

“come in , come in.” you flashed a smile to the camera; this wasn't a camgirl video, but a regular live that you sometimes did because your fans wanted you to — for what? you don't question, they pay you to just talk half naked. “how was everyone's day?”

you read through the comments; thanking the commenters for the donations. “what did i do today?” you read off. “well i ran some errands, got a few new toys.” you smirked. “oh and i had some coffee with some friends.” you said. “they told me i have a face for porn.”

the comments blew up with people agreeing. “i guess you guys agree as well.” you giggled playing into that act they loved so muched, reading more comments.

6inchking. what i would do to film a video with you.

user34.52. fuck yes , i would kill to see you fuck someone else.

allsizesmatter. you should film with lee jeno.

“oh? i keep hearing that name, my friends said the same thing.” you said. “is he really that good? maybe i should watch some of his videos.” you said, rolling your eyes at the comments that were in disbelief that you watched porn. “guys don't be ridiculous , why wouldn't i watch porn?” you laughed, grabbing your phone. “let's look him up.”

you typed into the search bar; waiting for the screen to load. “let's see if he lives up to what everyone says he is.” the screen finally loading, the most finest fucking man popping up on your screen. “oh he's really good looking.” you said scrolling through the many pictures. “really good looking.” you almost forgot you were on live — not only was his face godly , it looked like he was sculpted by the gods himself.

user24.52. look at her , already turned on just by his photos.

user22.63. to be looked at by her liked that.

“guys stop.” you giggled, cheeks red. “he is cute though.” you said. “im already so tired from the day.” you said; and yes you were tired, but you also wanted to watch on of his videos. “am i gonna watch one of his videos?” you smiled innocently , before shrugging. “i guess you guys will never know will you.” you blew a kiss to the camera. “bye bye.” you turned the camera off.

after that you wasted no time, climbing into your bed. your phone in your hand as you get comfortable, reaching over into your nightstand grabbing your rose toy; taking off your panties , pulling down your bra , sighing as the wind hit your nipples. “fuck.” you scrolled through jenos account— he had 5.5 million followers; way more than your messily 345k, he was a big deal.

you scrolled through his videos , settling on the most recent one. clicking the video — normally you'd skip the whole “acting scene” but this guy was known for his good acting so you decided to see for yourself.

you were a little bored at first, but as the scene went on you came to the realization that it was one of the best scenes you'd ever watched when watching porn, even though the actress was good , it almost seemed like regular video — besides the bright production lights and 4k hd cameras , and the fact that the beautiful actress herself was dressed in expensive lingerie and heels. her makeup done to the nines.

and then there was jeno; he was just as fine on video than in camera. his voice alone had you itching to touch yourself, which you did— fingers ghosting over your nipples; eyes closing. you almost forgot about the video, until you heard moaning. you opened your eyes to jeno sticking his cock into the girl. believe it or not , you weren't fucking just anyone , you actually only had sex with a few people , but their sizes compared to his were vastly different.

you understood why he was so famous; jeno was extremely good at his job. it was like you were watching a real couple fuck in their bed; jeno was rough; but not like those horrible videos where it looked like the girl wasn't enjoying it — the way the actresses eyes were crossed, it looked like she was very much enjoying it.

you curled your fingers up into your g-spot, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping hole. your moans , jenos and the actresses filled your empty room. you wanted to drop the phone and just finish already, desperate to cum , but you couldn't, it was like you were in a trance. the actress came with a loud scream. “oh fuck.” you moaned as jeno brought the girl to her knees , cumming all over the girls face — lord how you wished it was you.

your legs crossed over your hand as you came, back arching off the bed. “fuck!” you sighed as you came down from your high , the next random video playing on your phone. you turned it off , desperately trying to catch your breath. he had this effect on you and all you did was watch his videos.

getting up to clean yourself off; washing your body and your hair. getting out , drying off. you threw on an oversized shirt not bothering to put on underwear, it was just you. grabbing a snack before making your way back to bed to watch tv.

meanwhile a few miles away; jeno sat in his chair scrolling through his feed. he hated night shoots , everyone was tired and ready to go home. the actress today just wasn't good , her acting sucked , she was bitching about everything; how she hated the script; how the outfit was ugly — how she wanted him to cum. he was all for women wanting to what they wanted , but damn how was it his fault he wasn't turned on enough to cum as much as she wanted.

“jeno?” his manager and best friend jaemin , walked into his dressing room. “is it time to go?” he said, not looking up. “well … no, she's still complaining, something about you being too big.” jeno smirked. “so we're figuring that out now.” he said. “can we just sat fuck this shoot and go home?” he said. “im doing them a favor, i don't need the money.” he said. “yeah sure.” jaemin said. “what can they do?” he told the assistant on hand to tell them they were leaving. “what did you want?” he said, putting on his sweats. “when? oh to just show you this.”

he pulled the sweatshirt over his head; taking the phone from his friend's hand. “what am i looking at, who is this girl?” he stared at the screen , watching you talk. “she's cute , new girlfriend?”

“i don't date, she's a camgirl.” he scoffed at his friend. “her?” he looked at you once again. “stop fucking around her?” you looked so innocent, dressed like a doll , cute makeup, cheeks extremely pink from blush, normally jeno thinks that makeup look is crazy, but you made it work. “she doesn't even look like she's seen a porn film.”

“not everything is what it seems my friend look.” he clicked another video— and he swore he was watching another girl. “did she just?” jeno was shocked. “yes , she did.” his friend smirked while he stared in shock as he watched you take a 9in toy down your throat without gagging. “no gag reflex , if she has a boyfriend he's a lucky fucking bastard.”

jeno pushed the phone away; not that he didn't want to see it, but he also didn't want to cum in his pants to a video in front of his friend. “why are you showing me this?” he said. “you know i don't do camming.”

“yeah , but people want you both to collaborate. apparently she talked about you today and the internet is going crazy.” jaemin said. “she has good following , not as big as yours , but that shouldn't even matter , bro she doesn't have a gag reflex , i’d do it for fun.” jeno picked his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. “does she even have a manager? does she even want to do porn? why am i asking the questions that i pay you to already have answered before coming to me?”

“she's a independent artist i think, but I'm sure she'd answer a dm.” jeno lifted his eyebrow. “yeah , because she'd answer a random message asking her does she want to do porn , bro she gets those messages daily.” he said. “im sure i could work it out.” he said. “well then come back to me when you do.” jeno slapped his friends chest. “now let's go im hungry.” he said. “i’ll send you that link to the full video , you have to see it.”

“which one did you watch?” haechan asked. “why are we having this conversation right now?” you said cheeks red. “you've literally told us about how you — the recent one.” you interrupted ryujin before she embarrassed you. “i watched the recent one.” she nodded. “oh that one is good, that actress is hot.” she said , hyuck nodding in agreement. “she is.”

“she was, they both were.” you said. “and the acting was good , i actually watched it.” haechan pointed. “told you sometimes the plot just hits.”

“i thought i was watching a couple fucking, either one , that actress is in the wrong business or two , he's a good fucker and she wasn't acting.” you said. “she actually looked excited for him to cum on her.” you could still hear the moans playing in your head. “okay snap out of it , no one wants to watch you get turned on in public.” ryujin said , haechan scoffed. “speak for yourself.”

you laughed , your phone buzzing making you break away from the conversation; it was a message from twitter dm. you ignored it , thinking it was a normal everyday dm from a fan. you sat your phone down only for it to go off multiple times. “girl you got a boyfriend we don't know about? who the hell is texting you like that?” ryujin picked up your phone. “probably a weird fan, im gonna close my dms”

that didn't stop ryujin from clicking the messages, ready to troll the person. “oh girl , i don't think so.” she handed you the device back. “what is it?”

reading through the text messages. “what is it , don't leave me out.” haechan whined. “it's from jenos manager.” ryujin said , haechan sat up from his seat. “what let me see.” he snatched the phone. “oh my god , jeno wants to film with you.” he said. “it's like the porn gods answered us.”

“must you act like a neanderthal? it's probably a fake account.” haechan clicked the account. “it's verified and there's pictures of them together , they seem close.” he said. “he wants you to call him , he gave you a number to call.” he gave you back the phone. “oh my god let's go back to yours so you can call.”

they basically dragged you back to your apartment after that, forcing you to call the boy. “you both have to shut the fuck up if i put it on speaker.” you said typing down the number into the keypad. “probably about to call a random guy just so he can jerk off to my voice.” you pushed the call button. “don't you do that already.” you scoffed. “yeah but i get paid for it.”

the three of you sitting around the bed waiting for them to answer. “hello?” you picked up the phone. “is this na jaemin?” you said. “yes is this yn? i know your voice— wait, not like that.” your two friends snickered. “it's fine, i almost didn't call you, i thought you were a weird fan.”

“understandable; it's probably a weird text , but it me and everything i sent was true.” he said. “it is?” your eyes widened. “s-so he really does want to film with me?” you asked. “yes , he does.” you wanted to squeal , but you didn't want to seem desperate. “oh that's cool.” you said. “oh that's cool?” ryujin whispered to herself. “shut up.” you gritted through your teeth. “excuse me.”

“oh nothing.” you said. “oh okay, well first thing, we set up a meeting with you both.” he said. “just so when you film it won't be too awkward , then we film.”

“that's it?” you said. “that's it , you both show up to film, we'll provide everything else for you.” you looked at your friends who nodded their heads. “how does that sound?” he said. “i guess that's fine.” you said. “great! i’ll let him know, are you free tomorrow?”

“tomorrow? uh yeah sure im free.” you said. “great i'll send the address where to meet us see you tomorrow!” you hung up the phone. “oh my god i can't believe that just happened.” you tossed the phone down on the bed. “this is crazy , you get to film with lee jeno.” haechan said. “i almost want to be in your shoes.”

the next day you got ready for the meeting; putting on your best outfit — so you wouldn't feel so nervous, and maybe to impress them a little. jaemin had sent you the address the night before and lucky for you it was in walking distance from your place. “im almost there's , so I'll call you back when it's over.” you said the restaurant in your view. “you better and be careful , just cause there hasn't been a serial killer porn star, doesn't mean there can't be one.” ryujin ordered. “okay im here.”

you quickly said your goodbyes, before hanging up. you reached for the door , walking into the restaurant. you looked down at your phone, ready to send the man a text when someone tapped your shoulders. “yn?”

“oh hi.” you smiled. “i was just about to text you.” you put your phone away. “you're right on time , jeno is over there.” he said “let's go.” your hands were sweating from nerves as you approached the table , the man himself coming into view. “don't be nervous, he's not as intimidating as he looks on camera.” he said. “jeno.”

the boy looked up from his phone; and he almost did a double take. you really didn't look like what you did for work; gorgeous? yes. but he just couldn't see you doing what he saw you do the night before. “oh shit.” he stood up. “hey.” he said , holding his hands out. you reached for his hand , shaking it. “h-hi.”

“both of you sit down , sit down and get comfortable.” jaemin said. “before i give you some space , let's go over the details.” he sat down. “okay.” you smiled.

jeno didn't need to listen; jaemin would just repeat it over for him — instead he just looked at you, studying you. he watched you fiddle with your nails while listening to his friend intently. his eyes traveling down to your lips, biting the bottom one. “jeno?” jaemin knocked him out of his thoughts. “what?” he watched you shuffle in your seat. “i said you understand all that?”

“yeah , yeah i do.” he said. jaemin knew he didn't , but he'd explain later. “we filming on wednesday, it will only take one day , but it's a all day shoot is that fine?” you nodded. “of course.” you said. “that works for me.”

“good , now i'll give you both some time to get to know each other.” he stood up. “i’ll get you both some food as well.” he walked away. “thank you.” you called out, it fully hit you that you were left alone with jeno again , he smirked watching you shy away once again. “i guess this is the real you.”

“h-huh?” you asked , he sat up; putting his elbows on the table, watching you. “the bows really do change how one would look at you.” your hand came to your head. “no , keep them in , don't take them out.” your hands immediately went to your lap. “cute.”

“me-me?” you gulped. “is anyone else sitting there love?” your cheeks were flushed , to jeno it was like your already pink cheeks were now red. “here you guys go.” jaemin came back with two plates. “i ordered enough steak for you to share , and some pasta.” he said. “i’ll leave you two , jeno play nice , she's perfect for this and we don't need you scaring her off.”

“go ahead.” he said. “eat.” you picked up the fork nervously, picking up a slice of the meat. “now put to your mouth and eat it.” it felt like he was gonna eat you alive , you put the steak to your mouth , biting it. “good girl , i can already tell im gonna like you.”

“so tell me , why'd you want to do this?” jeno asked. “do-do what?” you asked. “do I need to spell it out baby , porn what made you want to do this?” he said. “most camgirls stick to that.” you sat the fork down , taking a sip of water. “well it's kinda stupid.” you said , he waved you off. “tell me.” he said. “well my friends told me i’d be good at it.” you said. “and you just listened to them?” he raised his eyebrows. “you must agree with them.”

“i guess.” you said. “i didn't really understand what they meant by that.” he sat back listening. “i do.” he really did , truth is jeno spent the night before watching your past streams , and fuck did you put on a performance. he had to force himself to put his phone down before he started shooting blanks , his hands and his cock covered in his cum as your moans played over and over on his phone. “well why do you do it?”

“me?” he asked , shrugging. “because i like to fuck.” he laughed, watching your eyes widen. “don't look so surprised baby it's really not that surprising,” he said. “i like to fuck and i like making money , why not do both?” jeno never wanted to be a pornstar , his main dream was to be a model , turns out it wasn't that easy — but it was easy to pick up a camera and film himself fucking. “b-but you're a model , you don't need to do this.”

“you're right i don't , but here we are.” he eyed you up and down , eyes shamelessly stopping at your bust. “just like you.” he said. “y-yeah.”

“you've watched a few of my videos haven't you?” he asked. “i watched yours.” you wanted to lie , but how could you when he was being so truthful. “a few.” you gulped. “so you know im not gonna go easy on you right?” the way he talked so confidently it sent shivers down your spine. “but im sure you can take it right?” your body hot. “i mean im bigger than what you've taken but im sure you can learn to take it right?”

“i can take it.” you said, quickly covering your mouth. “yeah? let's see on thursday.” he bit his lip. “give me your phone.” he said. “here.” you handed it to him. “you listen well , i fucking love that.” he typed down his number. “i don't give my number out to every actress.” he said, handing you your phone back , jaemin returning back to the table. “we have to go soon.”

“that's too bad , we were just getting to know each other.” reaching for your card. “relax , im paying.” jeno said. “i-i have money.” you said. “i'm sure you do , but i didn't ask.” he said. “yn do you need a uber?” jaemin asked, but you were too busy making googly eyes at jeno. “oh no , i-i live a few minutes away.” jaemin nodded. “well it was nice to meet you , why don't you head out first and we'll stay behind and settle this.” you smiled. “thank you.”

“just show up on wednesday as you are ready to film.” you nodded. “of course!” you smiled, about to walk away when jeno grabbed your hand. “your phone love.” you took it from his hands. “thank you.” and just like that , the boys watched you leave out. “you done making googly eyes?” jaemin said. “can i take you home so i can get to my date?” jeno rolled his eyes. “hey don't get upset with me, nothing stopped you from following behind her and getting a pre show of wednesday.”

wednesday came quick; you have a busy few days before — you wanted everything perfect , getting your hair done; waxing your eyebrows and other areas. you hadn't used the number jeno gave you , scared to use it , even though your friends encouraged you too. “you're about to have his cock inside you , this phone call would be nothing.”

still you didn't budge; it probably didn't even bother the boy, he could've easily called someone else.

the production had arranged for a car to pick you up from your place to take you to a location; you read the script on the way there , it was a simple script since it was your first project on this scale — something about neighbors. it really didn't matter to you, you were excited but nervous. “we're here miss.” it was an actual house; a nice one.

you got up to the car , thanking the driver. “okay.” you said to yourself. “let's do this.” you said, the door was open so you just walked in , people running around, cameras and lights everywhere. “you must be yn?” a woman came up to you. “hi?” you said. “you are?” she smiled. “im kim , I run the production company that films the videos jeno is in.” she said. “you do?”

“yes i do; is it a little weird because im a woman?” you shook your head. “no of course not!” you said she laughed. “we're all about comfortability, to make sure you and the actor are both comfortable.” she said. “jeno is already on set , he's normally never here early.” she said. “actually he's normally late.” she said. “but enough about him , let's get you to your dressing room.”

she guided you to your room, opening the door. “this is your first shoot so i wanted to make sure everything was perfect.” she held your back guiding you in. “we have a stylist that will help you , along with make up who will make you even more beautiful.” she was extremely nice. “thank you so much.” you said. “don't worry about it , just get relaxed and ready to film some scenes.” she said. “the stylist will be in here soon , make-up as well.”

she left you alone after that , you looked around the room , she laid out a display of snacks that made you smile — your phone ringing , you took it out of your pocket , furrowing your eyebrows at the unrecognizable number. “so your phone does work.” you recognized the room , whipping around. “je-jeno.”

he walked into the room. “it's been a busy week.” you said. “yeah?” you nodded. “you aren't wearing the bows today,” he said. “gonna tell the stylist to change that.” you nervously took a step back. “i like the bows , let's put them in the movie.” you nodded. “ok-okay.” he was close enough to smell his cologne. “relax , im not gonna bite.” he said. “at least not now.” you squeaked as he pressed against you. “later im not promising anything.”

“i could definitely take you right here right now.” he confessed. “give you a quick training on taking me before later.” he said, his body looming over you. “but i kinda want to wait until later.” he smirked , your knees almost buckling under you. “let's wait until later, yeah?” he said. “ye-yeah.” you sighed in relief when he stepped back , finally letting you breathe. “i’ll see you in a bit love.”

you didn't have time to process what just happened before the stylist and the makeup artist both shuffled in. “out jeno out we have to get her ready.” he was quickly pushed out. “gosh.” the stylist said. “he's never here this early all of sudden he's early.” the makeup artist turned to you. “well there's the reason right there, you are gorgeous.” you smiled. “th-thank you.”

“let's get you ready.”

the outfit wasn't much different from what you normally wear , just a lingerie version meaning it was much shorter; so short you could see your ass , poking from your panties — but it was still cute. “you look pretty.” the stylist said, picking up the bows. “per jenos request, hope you don't mind.” she placed the bow in your hair. “done.”

they left , kim returning soon after. “you ready.” you nodded. “let's go.” she guided you to the front where the scene would take place , the cameras ready. “yn , hey.” jaemin said. “oh hi.” you waved back. “you look nice , you ready?” you nodded. “i'm a little nervous , this is much different than my room.”

“don't worry about it; it's your first big production.” he said. “just do your best.” he reassured you. “jeno is done with make-up so we should be starting — five minutes!” someone shouted , you giggled. “in five minutes.” he said. “good luck.”

“the scene starts with you in the kitchen.” the producer guided you to the kitchen , leaving you alone. you leaned over the counter , scrolling through your phone while you waited. “you look too good right now.” jeno caged you in between his arms. “th-thank you , you smell nice.” it just slipped out your mouth. “oh , i-i di-didn’t — you smell nice too.” he said , your cheeks were already red enough. “makes me want to eat you up right here.” he didn't know how much he really was effecting you , anymore of what he would be doing and you'd be begging him to fuck you right there. “okay actors , get in position!”

“good luck princess.” he walked away, leaving you to pull yourself together and get ready for the scene. “are they actors ready?” everyone got into position. “okay, rolling in 5…4…3…2…1 , start !”

the scene went exceptionally well; it was build up scene that leads up to the actual sex scene — but even those scenes were hot and heavy; at least jeno made it like that. it took a few hours to film , making sure to get every angle. “okay great, the next scene jeno you what to do.”

jeno didn't know if he had it in him; the resistance as the camera guy yelled for the scene to start again — the strength to hold himself together once he got his lips on you; he was a professional, but with you it felt like his very first scene.

“you can do what you want.” you spoke up , back into character , you were a natural — almost like you were talking to him outside of character. “what did you say?” he said , damn near forgetting his line. you looked down at your fingers. “to me , you can do what you want to me.”

there was the girl from the streams; it flicked just like that; your other persona , the one from the restaurant that told him you could take it — and he was about to put it to the test. “i can?” his big hand wrapping around your neck. “you don't know me that well but you'd let me do what i want to you?”

that was basically your current situation with the man; yeah you had only met him four days ago, but you'd let him do whatever he wanted , on and off camera. “y-yes.”

“that's real whore like of you.” his hand squeezed your throat. “real whore like.” he said, slamming his lips against yours. unfortunately the scene took place on a couch so he didn't have much room to work with , but it didn't mean anything to him — besides he'll just fuck you into your mattress on another day.

the kiss was rough; his hand squeezing your throat as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling away. “get on your knees.” he pushed you down , the camera close to your face as he unbuckled his pants. “gonna fuck your face.” he pulled his cock out , it was definitely bigger than the dildos you were use to. “hey.” he slapped your face. “come on, be a good whore and suck my cock.”

he grabbed the base of his cock , slapping it on your cheek. “open slut.” he shoved his length inside your mouth , and much like your previous streams , you took him into your throat without gagging. “yeah , fuck swallowing my fucking cock like that.” he groaned , holding the back of your head moving you up and down on his thick length , also moving his hips. “cock sucking slut , how many cocks has this throat taken?”

he was using your mouth; the cameras all there filming it turned you on even more , the many people watching in the room as he fucked your face made you hornier. “yeah fuck!” he had to force himself out of you so he wouldn't cum fast. “get up.” he pulled you up , throwing you to the couch. “ass up, now slut.”

he pulled the dress up , revealing the matching color set they put you in. “dumb slut is wet from sucking cock.” he slapped your ass , you moaned , he pulled your panties down , your folds covered in your slick. “messy pussy , gonna stuff you full of my cock.” he maneuvered your body on the small couch. “arch your back.”

he pushed your head down on the couch seat. “gonna make you take it all at once.” your whimpering turned into screams as he abruptly shoved his entire length into your pussy. “hell you're fucking tight.” he groaned , pulling out slamming back inside. “fuck!” he began to fuck into you , holding the back of your neck. “such a whore.”

his thrust were brutal and unrelentless; the camera catching everything — his cock stretching you out more than you've ever been, the squelching sounds from your cunt it was embarrassing, having people hear that ; but the embarrassment soon was forgotten as he went deeper. “my fuck -oh my- oh my fucking god.”

he let out a lust filled chuckle. “so stupid baby.” he slapped your ass. “my cock really made your brain turn to mush.” he abruptly pulled out of you , slapping your ass , your legs shook. “turn around.” he flipped you on your back.

you looked up at him with teary wide eyes. but he could see the lust in them. “that innocent look doesn't work on me.” he slapped your cunt. “i can see through whores like you.” he lined his cock up with your hole. “innocent looking but ready to take any cock they can get.”

this new angle had you reaching for anything , jenos arm; the couch cushion — his cock had you grabbing at the air. he pulled down the front of the lingerie , your tits now bouncing along with his thrust. the rumors proving to be true as you felt your orgasm approaching. “you're clenching around me , fuck your pussy is suffocating my cock.” he growled. “fuck im gonna cum!” you screamed out. “cum slut , wet my cock with your cum.”

he had your legs open wide , holding your shaking thighs. “cum.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, soaking his stomach and the seat below you. a high pitched moan coming from your mouth as he kept going. “fuck keep cumming on my cock.” he slapped your poor clit rubbing rubbing it. “yeah im gonna - fuck - im gonna cum.” he groaned. “fuck im gonna cum all over your face.”

he pulled out of your twitching hole , standing over your face , stroking his cock. the camera was up close again as he came — and he came a lot. he groaned, throwing his head back as he covered you in his seed. “fuck.”

you laid out on the couch , his thumb still rubbing at your clit as your reached your final orgasm , your thighs shaking uncontrollably. “cut!”

jeno almost forgot about the camera; ready to bring you to another orgasm. “je-jeno.” your shaking voice pulled him from his horny state. “shit im sorry.” he pulled away , desperately wanting to taste you. “almost made you squirt again.” he smirked. “now how would we explain that? because the camera is off.”

“get her a cover.” he shouted , someone running over to you both , he covered your body. “jeno.” they handed him a robe. “you did so good.” the staff handing you fluids. “felt like watching a couple have sex , you're a natural girl.” you nodded with a smile. “are you a natural princess?” jeno spoke up once they were gone. “or is it because those screams were real?”

you lowered your head , shying away from his gaze. “don't hide from me now , i know your real persona , and these cameras maybe done rolling, but i'm not done with you yet.” he whispered , just as you were pulled from your seat by a staff member and whisked back to your room. “you ready to go?” jaemin came over. “no need to drive me home tonight,” he said. “why not?” asked Jaemin.

“because im not going home tonight.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #nct fanfic #nct x female reader #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct dream x female reader #nct dream x reader #lee jeno fanfic #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno fic #jeno hard thoughts #jeno hard hours

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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in.

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night.

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations.

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold.

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused.

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone.

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter.

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled.

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white.

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here.

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress.

Wonderful.

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall.

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that.

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head.

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes.

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on.

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react?

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes.

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door.

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do.

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore.

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood.

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot.

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours. You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you.

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up.

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around.

Fuck.

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words.

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show.

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it.

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide.

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier.

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul.

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you.

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise.

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here.

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up.

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you.

And you still feel terrible.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, just as quietly.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away.

“My neighbor said he c—”

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you.

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing.

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand.

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it.

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that.

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off.

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become.

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself.

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.”

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy.

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff.

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice.

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment.

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words.

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him.

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates.

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it.

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise.

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh.

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth.

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him.

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do.

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it.

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh.

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded.

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it.

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good.

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely.

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile.

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips.

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find.

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty.

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous.

“You can come in,” you call.

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today.

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair.

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod.

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point.

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned.

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes.

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended.

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now.

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh.

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown.

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it.

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you.

He just washes your hair.

part ten

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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your-internet-bf · 9 months ago

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I have a bad habit of looking at other people's phones in public. Someday, I think I'll look at a cute girl's screen and see the sorta shit I like - bondage, rape, deep, strong fucking. You'd scroll past as quick as you can, of course, since it's embarrassing to be caught looking at that in public... But I'd know.

It's not hard to follow people, especially in a city. Nobody expects to be followed; you'd never even notice. Maybe you catch a glimpse of me through the corner of your eye, but it's just a coincidence that I've been behind you the past eight blocks, right? Right?

I've been camping outside your place, watching through the window. It wasn't hard, and you haven't noticed anything more than a shadow. But it's dark out now, and very late, and I climb up to your window to get a better view.

I see you reclined in your bed, rubbing and pounding as hard as you can, your brow furrowed and your lips open in a silent moan as you try to hide your, what, fourth orgasm of the night? I watch, every inch of my cock throbbing, aching, waiting for my turn.

You turn off your phone, close your eyes, and you - raw, red, exhausted you - try to sleep. I wait a few minutes just to be sure, feeling myself over my clothes, before trying your window. It's a rush when I find it unlocked - you are EXACTLY the kind of girl I thought you were. Silently, the window slides open, and I follow the cool night air into your bedroom.

You're prettier up close. I've been studying you for hours now, of course, but I hadn't noticed just how soft your skin was, or how smooth your curves... I pull down your covers, revealing that you didn't bother to put anything on after you came. Your slick, abused cunt is so inviting; every cell in my body is screaming at me to tear you open with my cock, to ruin you, to pound your cervix up into your tummy, but there's something I need to do first...

I take a quick moment to undress, quietly, the soft clink of my belt buckle being the only sound other than our breathing, already starting to mix in the darkness. Then all at once I pounce, pushing you onto your front, gripping your waist from behind, and ramming my cock dry into your ass.

It hurts. I want it to hurt.

You're scared. I want you to be scared.

Maybe you've been with a guy before, maybe you haven't, maybe you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or spouse right now; it doesn't matter to me. With my size, every hole feels tight, especially a victim.

I feel you writhe beneath me, trying to get away, but I won't let you. I take one of my hands off your waist and, balling up your hair in one fist, wrench your head back.

"You," I whisper, my breath hot on your cheek, "aren't going anywhere, pretty girl."

I push your face down into your bed and keep going, pounding, breaking, raping your ass. You feel my breath on you, my sweat on you, the smell of me overwhelming even as I'm intoxicated by yours. I yank your head back up and take a deep breath in at the back of your neck, moaning as I breathe out. As I pause, you raise your hips into me, whimpering, and I know you need me to keep going.

Because you need it, don't you? You need a big, strong man, smelling like sweat and power, to rape you, don't you? To completely make you mine, to turn you into a sobbing, soaking mess, to mold you around my filthy, throbbing cock. Say it now, say that you need it, that you're a needy slut, say it out loud...

So I continue. Taking the other hand back to your waist, I redouble my work, straining inside you. I reach down to slap your soaking pussy and rub your wetness on me, and keep going. In and out, in and out, in and out, my girth spreading your ass so wide, so painfully, you can barely think. But I know you need it, and I'm so close now.

My breath comes faster, catching in my throat, and you feel a hard thrust, then another, another, another, and finally, I ram into you so hard we both collapse into your bed... And you feel the thick, white cum shoot into you. Warm, heavy, sticky, it fills your insides as my cock pulses thick and strong inside you, my breath warm on your neck as I force you to cockwarm me.

I kiss your soft, pretty skin as you sob into your pillow. I grind into you as I do, and my cum leaks out, a slow stream rolling down from your ruined ass towards that gaping, aching cunt. After a minute, I pull out, and push you onto your back. You get a brief glimpse at my face through the tears - long, long eyelashes framing deep gray eyes - before I steal a kiss. Your tears make it salty, and you feel me smile, pressed up against your lips.

"You needed it, didn't you?" I ask, still grinning.

Weakly, you nod. "Mhmm..." You draw in another shaky breath.

"Good, good girl." I lean back and reach for my cock - I'm still hard. I still need you.

You know what you are now. You'd suspected it before, but now you know what you are, what you need, and so do I. You spread your legs for me, this time willingly, begging me to come make you mine...

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hischierjustscored · 27 days ago

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accidentally yours・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again, i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end

update: very emotional about all the likes and sharings here, i can't say thank you enough it really means the world to me 🧡🧡🧡 love you all!!!!

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratching on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.1k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

You couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, you're lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously low, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled followed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now, is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. What you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking.

Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours.

Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine crossing your arms and biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too, didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"We just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, not that they would change your mind anyway, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head."

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. "Getting out out his head", with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget for the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she chattered, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him either. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to, except for him.

A moment, a pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

It wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, already figuring him out which no one did better than you, telling you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm, "Can you at least pretend to fall for it?, just for it to get stuck in his throat when you answered.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with, just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back, recognizing it immediately, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he should know already, but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, turning away in his seat.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", he still vacillated about it all and ignored the "H" making it sound like witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was just Jack and Luke. Right?

Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers and he wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind.

Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches, but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something? Because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together, thinking hard with her eyes narrowing the slightest looking at you.

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighing as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Still”, she rambled on, not getting the memo, "kinda sounded familiar..."

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you weren't even a part of it. You leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though."

There’s no need for that.

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away.

How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here.

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it, and through the faint hid of a smirk tugging at his mouth corner.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers flexed around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he paused, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being helpful and humanity personified, or because of the simple fact that he was your emergency contact. And that's what they are for.

Yet, you needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no, it's not like it would’ve changed anything."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them. You felt his next sigh in your bones.

"What do you want me to say?", and you swallowed hard over the slight clip in his tone, "You're the one who put my name down I had no idea of, and they told me you were on your way to bolt out of here with a concussion. What did you expect me to do?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

He hinted at more, waiting for you to give it to him when you answered with an abruptness yourself, "Makes two of us."

"But you could've guessed from the call alone that it was a mix-up."

"Who jokes about that?"

Probably the universe and whatever intention it had planned out for you tonight, but you still tried to resist, just like you resisted the urge to meet his gaze, your eyes fixating somewhere beyond his right arm.

"Let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time, and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved" typing it into the console, it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #nhl fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

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leighsartworks216 · 28 days ago

Text

Darlin' I'm Right Here

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 3am last night and because I wrote this at 3am last night and then went down a rabbit hole of rereading fanfics, I did not get enough sleep to do any work

Anyway I just think it would be neat if Sylus could carry me around please and thank you

Title from "Butterfly's Repose" by Zabawa

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, caretaking, kissing, cuddling, undressing (and redressing), casual intimacy, established relationship, crying

Word Count: 1,659

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third Love and Deepspace Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus looks over as the door opens and quietly shuts again. He watches you, a silent observer, as you drop your stuff to the floor and push it aside with your foot. Your movements are sluggish as you pull off your winter coat and the sweatshirt underneath. A low sigh passes your lips as you work at undoing the knots in your boot laces - and that's when he comes over.

You see his shadow, feel his presence, and stand up straight once more. He tilts his head, brow furrowed slightly; you look so tired, so worn out, and moisture is collecting on your lower eyelids. Your pitiful sniff only confirms his suspicions.

He doesn't say anything as he kneels down by your feet. He unties the knots you struggled with moments ago, undoes the laces enough for your feet to slip out easily. You use his shoulder as support when he lifts one foot and slips your boot off, then the other. Both are set aside in a tray where they can continue drying off without dripping melted snow on the wood floors.

You watch him as though in a daze. He stands and your eyes follow, lacking their usual vibrancy and life. They only shine now because of the tears you hold back.

He bends down, gently guiding your arms around his neck. "Hold on, kitten," he orders softly. Your hands lock together behind his head. Your face finds its place tucked in his shoulder, tightly so as to block out the rest of the world around you. His hands hold the back of your thighs as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He feels your breaths just as you feel his. Hears each shuddering inhale and shaky exhale beside his ear. He tilts his head to the side to rest upon yours, rubbing his cheek against your head affectionately. He hopes it really was just a bad day that is upsetting you so much. If he hears even a hint of a whisper that someone said or did something to his darling lover, he won't hesitate to deal with it, permanently.

Each step is a gentle sway, a soothing rocking. You feel like a child clinging to their parent, pretending to be asleep as they carry you to bed. You feel small, but not in a bad way. Small, yet protected. Secure. You cling a little tighter to him and he adjusts your hips higher against him to keep you there.

The villa you've practically claimed as a home is smaller than his usual estates, though still quite large considering only two people live here at any one time. It's much larger than your old apartment. At least here he can actually move around the kitchen comfortably and shower without needing to duck under the spray of the shower head.

He carries you through the familiar floor plan to your bedroom, and then further into the ensuite bathroom. He's immensely careful when he sets you down at last on the countertop beside the sink. Though, he doesn't pull away. Doesn't force you to, either. Instead, he holds your hip and massages at your lower back, giving you the time you need. There's no rush. There's never a rush with him.

With a small inhale to give you strength, you finally pull away. Tears make tracks down your cheeks. A wet spot stains his shirt. He brushes away the tears on one cheek, and kisses them away on the other.

"Do you want to take a shower, sweetie?" he asks. You shake your head. He kisses your cheek again warmly.

Instead of a shower, he reaches into a cabinet and pulls down a washcloth. One handed, he turns on the warm water and holds his fingers under the tap as he waits for it to get to the perfect temperature. The cloth's fabric turns dark once he holds it under the water, soaked through. He squeezes out the excess and turns off the tap, before brushing it gently over your cheeks.

You close your eyes and give in to his tender care. With no sound aside from a sniffle here and there, Sylus wipes away the sticky tear tracks. He soothes the cloth under your eyes, easing out the tension and tiredness with its warmth. You shiver involuntarily when the cloth touches your neck, lightly wetting your throat with enough pressure to avoid tickling you.

Once he's satisfied with his work, he sets the cloth on the side of the sink. His hands, warm and lightly damp, find your hips, then your thighs, wordlessly warning you just before he lifts you up once more.

He doesn't carry you far, just into the bedroom. He rests you at the end of the bed, your legs hanging off to the floor while the rest of your body is laid back against the plush bedding. He kisses your forehead as he gently coaxes your arms from around his neck. "Wait here."

You crack your eyes open to watch as he goes to your dresser. With familiarity, he pulls out a few things, chief among them two types of pants and two types of shirts. He carries them over and sets them on either side of you on the bed. He holds up the pants first.

"Which one?" In one hand is a pair of long pajama pants. In the other, a pair of shorts. You point lazily at one, and he sets them down.

Kneeling down by your feet once more, he removes your socks and your pants. Normally, on any other day, there would be a heat in his gaze. A dripping, dark lust in his eyes as they roam your legs up to your underwear. Now, there's not even a hint of such a thing. He looks at your legs in the same way he looks at his guns as he maintains them, with an undeniable presence of care and dedication, and the warmth of wanting to take care of you in the best ways he knows how. He always claims to be bad at comforting people, yet he finds the perfect ways to tend to you every time.

He slips the pants you chose on you, pulling them up along your legs. You don't even have to lift your hips up - he does so for you with a large hand under your lower back.

"Do you want your fuzzy socks?" He smiles when you nod. You're always so endearing to him. You've perfectly curled within his heart, laying claim to it as your own. Its beats change with your emotions and actions. Right now, it beats softly, but steadily, as your eyes follow him back to the dresser to retrieve a pair of your fuzzy socks and then watch as he slips them onto your feet. It will beat louder tomorrow, he’ll make sure of it.

He stands and lifts up the shirts. One is a baggy t-shirt you "stole" from him a while ago. ("Stole" because Sylus is not a man who often wears t-shirts. This particular shirt is one you bought for him and commanded him to wear for a couple of days leading up to your visit, whereupon you claimed it for yourself.) The other is a tank top. You choose which one you'd rather wear tonight and he sets them aside.

He playfully pulls you into a sit, tangling his fingers with yours and tugging you up to him. He leans down to kiss your head. Warm fingers brush your skin as he removes your shirt from today. It winds up in a pile with your pants and socks.

The shirt you chose is soon pulled over your head. Your arms are guided through just the same. He leans down to make sure it settles comfortably around your body, and you use the opportunity to draw your fingers lightly under his chin. All his focus is on you immediately.

He is completely pliant under your touch. You could do anything - have him do anything. He is at your whim.

With the barest pressure, you draw him in, meeting his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. His lips are always so soft and plush. They don't seek for more than you give, only taking what you decide to offer, without a hint of a complaint. When your fingers fall from his skin, he lightly pulls away, heavy-lidded eyes peeking open to search your face for answers, to know what you want. One more kiss, and one more, before you're satisfied. He pulls away.

Your dirty clothes are dropped into the hamper. The clothes you didn't choose are left on top of your dresser to be put away later. He goes to place you in bed properly, but is stopped by your slight frown and the flicker of your eyes over his clothes. He grins. He can feel your eyes on him as he changes his own clothes, trading them in for some sweatpants that rest low on his hips and a tank top that shows off his arms. You're smiling contentedly when he approaches this time.

He lifts you up, but does not set you down again. Instead, he slips into bed with you in his arms, holding you close as he ensures you're comfortable. Not that you complain; you keep him trapped there with the way your legs hug him and with your head tucked under his chin. He rubs up and down your back with one hand. The other holds your hand over his heart.

The day that upset you feels lightyears away as your body relaxes against Sylus's. The cold and snow outside don't exist as he kisses your head and stops rubbing your back in favor of massaging the back of your neck. No concerns for tomorrow. No worries about what will come next. Just the gentle coaxing of his breaths, luring you into a much needed nap.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

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enderlovez · 2 months ago

Text

It's Okay

Spencer Reid x BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and Spencer have to comfort a little girl after she finds her parents dead in her home, and your odd tactics work surprisingly well.

Content Warning: guns and violence, mentions of murder, blood, strange methods of calming a child down, dead bodies mentioned, broken glass, scared children

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The house is unnervingly silent.

Bloodstains and shards of broken glass litter the carpet around the bodies as you carefully step around them, you and Spencer moving cautiously towards the bedroom.

From inside comes the faint, muffled sound of sobbing. Through the cracked door you can see a little girl—Harper—curled up tightly in the corner, clutching a worn stuffed rabbit as though it's her only lifeline.

You glance at Spencer, your expression heavy. This is always the hardest part of the job: dealing with the survivors, especially ones this young and scared. Spencer offers you a faint nod, his own nerves masked by his calm demeanor.

You open the door slowly, kneeling down to meet Harper's line of sight. "Hey there," you say softly, careful not to startle her. "I'm Y/N, and this is Spencer. We're here to help you."

She doesn't answer, her tear-filled eyes darting between the two of you. Your chest tightens as her tiny frame trembled, her grip on the stuffed animal tightening further.

Spencer kneels beside you, his voice just as soft and measured as he addresses the young girl. "We promise, we're not gonna hurt you. We're here to keep you safe."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn't speak. You can practically feel the weight of her fear, and your usual comforting words don't seem enough right now. You briefly look at Spencer, then back at her—time to get a little creative.

You stand and cross the room, kneeling again when you're right in front of her.

Reaching for your holster, you carefully pull out your sidearm and hold it up in a non-threatening way, your finger nowhere near the trigger. "Do you know what this is, Harper?" you ask, your voice calm and steady.

Please don't backfire on me...

Her sobs pause for a moment, her wide eyes fixed on the gun. "A... a gun?" she whispers.

"That's right," you say, your tone light as if you're discussing her favorite toy. "It's my job to use this to protect people, to keep them safe. And right now, I'm here to keep you safe. Me and Floppy," you add with a smile, nodding toward her bunny.

Spencer glances at you, his eyebrows raises slightly in surprise, but he doesn't stop you. You know what you're doing—or at least you hope you do.

"Can I see it?" Harper asks hesitantly, her curiosity momentarily overpowering her fear.

"Not this one—it's very grown up," you say with a small chuckle, slipping the gun back into its holster. "But maybe someday, when you're older and want to be a hero too. For now, just know that it's here, and it'll keep you safe."

Harper blinks, her tears slowing as she processes your words in her little six year old brain. "You'd use it for me?"

"Absolutely," you say firmly without hesitation, leaning in a little closer. "You're really important to us, Harper. We're going to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Spencer finally chimes in, appearing beside you, his voice gentle but slightly amused. "And I can vouch for Y/N. She's a very good shot."

The faintest ghost of a smile crosses Harper's face, and your shoulders relax slightly. "You're like superheroes," she says, her voice so quiet you would've missed it if you weren't paying so much attention.

"Exactly," you say, grinning. "Superheroes with badges and really big teamwork. And guess what? Superheroes are really good at making sure kids like you are okay."

Harper nods, her fingers loosening their death grip on Floppy. "Okay," she murmurs, edging closer to you, "but I'm still scared."

"That's okay too," you assure her. "Being scared just means you're brave enough to face things that are hard. And right now, you're doing and amazing job, Harper."

She hesitates, then leans forward slightly, her small frame still trembling but no longer frozen in fear. She wraps her little arms around your waist, face pressed into your stomach. You take her into your arm, tracing shapes on her back with your pointer finger.

You glance at Spencer, who's watching you with a mix of admiration and mild disbelief. He mouths, Really? The gun?

You shrug subtle in response, your lips quirking up.

After a moment, Harper looks up from your stomach, her eyes still red but clearer now. "Will you stay here?" she asks.

"We'll stay as long as you need us," you answer instantly, tone as warm and reassuring as you can make it. "You're not alone anymore, Harper. Are you tired?"

She nods, so you lift her up off the floor and lay her down on her bed, only laying beside her when she gently tugs on your shirt. She immediately snuggles up against you, clutching onto you with one of her death grips, but you don't care.

Her breathing starts to even out, and for the first time tonight, the tension in the room begins to lift.

When Morgan peeks into the room a few minutes later to check in, he raises an eyebrow at the sight of you—Spencer sitting at the end of the bed, you actually laid down with Harper's arms wrapped tightly around you, tight enough to actually make breathing a little difficult.

"You two good?" he asks, glancing between the three of you.

"Superheroes don't leave their missions unfinished," you reply with a wink, gently stroking Harper's hair, and Morgan shakes his head, muttering something about your methods as he leaves.

One Harper is finally asleep, Spencer leans towards you, his voice low. "You know, not every kid finds guns comforting."

"Worked on her, didn't it?" you whisper back, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Spencer rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. "Only you would use a weapon as a comfort object."

"She needed to feel like we can keep her safe," you reply, looking down at Harper's peaceful face, "and I think we nailed it."

He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment. "You're not wrong." A brief pause. "Wait, how'd you know the rabbit's name?"

You silently gesture to a drawing on the wall, a little girl and a rabbit holding hands, Harper and Floppy written in blue crayon beneath it.

#spencer reid x girlfriend reader #spencer reid x bau reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #enderlovez

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fanfictiongirlie · 2 months ago

Text

Marvel: Corruption

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Description: Bucky Barnes is a priest. Reader will do anything to tease him, break him, corrupt him. Bucky snaps and they have wonderfully rough sex inside his church. And then run away together.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, its filth, Teasing, Priest Kink, Corruption of a Priest, Choking, Spanking, Daddy Kink, punishing, Degradation, Readers a bad girl, She's do anything for Bucky, including crawling across the floor, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Church, Rough Oral, SexOral Sex, Cunnilingus, Top Bucky Barnes, Dominant Bucky Barnes, Light Dom/sub

Words: 9,551

Completed One-Shot

So I read Crossed by Emily Mcintire the other day, and I may or may not have a serious corruption kink. And then I thought, ooo, I like Bucky Barnes. Mix the two and boom, we have this. I feel like maybe I could have gone rougher, but I'm happy with the final product. I hope you enjoy it. Okay - So this is smutty. And a little kinky, a lot kinky. But I'd also like to have to said, I am not religious, so if I get any of the religious bits wrong, I do apologies, but yeah. I did a bit of research, but honestly, I'm here to write smut, not to fact check xD READ THE TAGS! Don't read it if it's not something you'll like.

Bucky Barnes was in his church, stood up on his stage running his session. It was sunday and it was a beautiful summers day outside, his favourite days to run a sermon. He was new to the village, but everyone had welcomed him with open arms and he knew everyone. So when he noticed you, a girl he had never seen before he was a little intrigued. You were sat in between two people he did know, a man and woman who must of been your parents.

He thought you were beautiful. And it stressed him out, he was a priest, he shouldn't be thinking that you were beautiful, or anything of the sort. But you were beautiful, you stood out in the crowd, Covered in tattoos, you weren't showing much skin, but from what he could tell, yes you were a tattooed individual. He could also see you had a few piercings in your ears. He could feel himself become less enthused as he kept staring at you, so he coughed and tried to bring himself back to his sermon.

You sighed heavily as the sermon carried on, your parents had, of course, forced you to go to church with them, like they had every year you lived in this pathetic town. When you had turned eighteen you moved far away, deciding you were going to become a famous musician, that didn't work out, so you had to move back home with your parents, they were happy to have you home. Unfortunately them, and everyone else in this tiny town were incredibly religious. And truly, it wasn't religion itself that annoyed you, it was having it shoved down your throat your entire life.

At least the priest was cute, you thought to yourself as you drown out the words coming from his perfect pink lips.

As Bucky continues the sermon, he would glance over to you occasionally, he was finding it hard to not look at you, he was a priest, he needed to shake it off. He knew it was wrong and yet here he was, staring at you.

You smirked when you noticed his eyes on you. Though once the sermon was over, finally, your parents dragged you over to the stage he stood on to meet him. Saying that meeting the new priest would bring you closer to god, they hoped.

Bucky climbed down from his stage, it was only a tiny stage, only reaching his knee when he stood next to it. He straightened himself when you and your parents reached him, and his voice was deep and smooth, as he spoke in his proper priest voice.

"Hello, you're the daughter?"

He asked, looking at you. His eyes couldn't help but quickly move down looking at your body, he hated himself for the movement.

"That would be correct" You smirk, holding your hand out to him, you had had tattoos littered over your arm trailing down to your fingertips. Bucky shook your hand, and smiled softly at you. You watched as he looked at your tattoos.

Bucky found himself wanting to see the rest of them. He mentally slapped himself for thinking like that.

"Good to meet you...Mr...?" You ask, your voices trailing off slightly. He quickly snapped himself out of his inappropriate thoughts of you. Realisation kicking into his brain that he was staring too much. He felt like a creepy priest.

"Barnes. Father James Barnes"

"Father Barnes" You repeated, the smirk still on your lips.

"Yeah, that's me" He says softly, his stomach flipped at hearing you say 'Father Barnes' he hated himself even more for the thoughts that went through his head as he looked at you.

"Come, let's not waste more of the father's time" Your father says, pulling at your arm.

"Aw and I thought you wanted me to be closer to god?" You ask your father, a little winey.

Bucky watched as your father dragged you away, he frowned a little, he found himself not wanting you to leave, he wanted to keep talking to you, he wanted to see more of those tattoos...

As you were dragged out, you turned just at the last minute to look back, and he saw just how pretty you were from the back and he felt awful, he didn't want you to go, and at the same time, he was glad you were going because his dirty thoughts weren't good.

The next day you were wondering through the only grocery shop in the village, slowly moving your shopping cart as you looked at the list your mother had given you. Already you were getting dirty looks from the other shoppers, you smirked knowing it was because of your outfit.

Your dress, it was short and showed so much skin. A cute little black dress with strappy straps on your shoulders, the dress was backless, showing off the magnificent tattoo you had on your back, though not finished yet, it was still amazing and to top things off, the dress was short, ending a few inches past your arse cheeks. It was one of your favourites, pureply because it pissed everyone in this little village off, and you loved that.

Bucky was in the grocery shop with a small cart of his own. He hadn't been able to get you off his mind and just as he was about to turn the corner, he saw you.

His jaw almost dropped as he saw you. His mind was screaming asking if it was you, and once he realised it was actually you, he couldn't help but get excited, but he didn't know if you would even want to speak to him. He was shocked and slightly aroused by your appearance. He swallowed, he tried to distract himself from thoughts of you. He was a priest for goodness sake!

He slowly walked over to you, hoping you wouldn't realise the growing bulge in his jeans as he approached, he wanted to talk to you. No matter how much he knew he shouldn't.

"Hello" He spoke softly as he stepped closer to you, forcing himself to look into your eyes.

"Father Barnes, we meet again" You say, smirking as you saw him. As he heard you speak, he swallowed, the way you said 'Father Barnes' caused a whole range of thoughts to enter his brain. He couldn't help but look at your outfit.

"We do" He says in a soft deep voice, he was trying so hard to focus on the face that he was a priest, but his mind kept betraying him.

"How are you?" You asked, leaning forward a little to lean on your cart, your dress, surprisingly hid the most of your chest, but a small slither of cleavage was visible.

Bucky swallowed deeply, trying not to stare at your bare skin. He couldn't control himself as he stared down at your body. He forced himself to tear his eyes away and meet your eyes again. God he despised himself for thinking like this.

"I'm good, thank you" He says in a deep, soft voice. He hated how good you looked.

"Good" You say, smirking a little. He swallowed again, he could tell you were acting a little teasy towards him, and it was driving him insane. He wanted to touch you so badly, but he couldn't, he was a man of God and he kept reminding himself that, over and over, until his mind wandered once again.

"So..." He says, his eyes drifted down again "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's a shop, Father Barnes...Take a guess" You say playfully.

Bucky swallowed again, as his thoughts continued. He knew that it was just his mind, but he thought he saw you looking at his bulge once, and he didn't know it that was just in his mind or not. He looked back into your eyes, trying to distract himself once again.

"You're shopping?" He asks.

"That's a clever boy" You answer with a grin. As he heard you say that, every part of him wanted to shove you against a wall and kiss you, it make him feel more flustered.

"Well...what are you shopping for?" He asked, trying to look anywhere other than your body.

"My mother has sent me in with a list" You say with a shrug. Bucky looked down again, taking a quick peek at your body once more, hating himself again as he did. He hated this part of himself, he knew he had to ask something, but he felt so nervous.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks.

"Sure" You purr, rolling your 'R's.

He swallowed again for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He didn't know how he would react if he got the answer he so desperately wanted, but he had to try.

"Do you..." He swallowed again, he hated asking this question. "Do you always wear short dresses?"

"Usually yeah...Do you disapprove, Father?" You ask, looking down at your dress. Bucky's mind was screaming at him again. He loved it, and he did not disapprove, but he was a priest. He wanted to tell you the truth, but what if that scared you, he swallowed again as he tried to form a sentence.

"No...I...I like it" He says quietly, looking down to his feet.

"You do? Naughty priest" You answer, smirking widley looking him up and down. He was dressed in his usual pricesty clothes, fully black and fully covered, and boy did you wanna see what was underneath. As Bucky heard those words from you, his mind went crazy.

"Don't say things like that..." He said, his voice was slightly shaky. He hated that he liked how naughty it sounded. He looked around to see if there was any people nearby, when his eyes met yours again, he felt like he couldn't control himself.

"Oh...Sorry" You say giggling a little. As you giggled, he was slowly being driven more insane. He hated how your voice sounded, the way you acted, the way you dressed, he wanted to do things so badly, he tried to control himself.

"Don't apologise..." He said in a shaky voice, he was getting flustered so easily and you were noticing that. His neck was flushed red, from what you could see, his brow was sweating slightly. His eyes were darting all over the place, it made you want more, you wanted to keep pushing him, see how far you could get. Maybe not in the middle of the shop.

"Am I allowed to do anything?" You ask playfully, having him tell you not to do something opening a fun teasing window for you.

"It depends..what are you wanting to do?" He asks.

"Oh, you do not want to know" You answer smirking, the ideas in your mind currently were enough to make you burst into flames if you walked into the church.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that he did want to know, he hated that he wanted to hear all the things you wanted. He hated the fact that he wanted to do all the things to you that he had thought of.

"Tell me..." He says in a lower voice, trying not to get aroused from all of this thoughts and from you in general.

"Oh, Father. The things I've been thinking, they would make you blush" You say carefully, not wanting anyone in the store to hear you. You hadn't thought he would talk to you like this, from the moment you had seen him in that church you wanted him, wanted to corrupt him, but you never thought you'd get this far, you were loving it, you wanted more.

As Bucky heard your words, his mind went to places he shouldn't be, and his heart race increased. He swallowed once again, hoping you didn't notice how much he was swallowing, and how flustered he was feeling.

"I can handle it" He finally says, his voice still as shaky as before.

"We've only just met, father...What kind of girl do you think I am?" You asked, faking a gasp.

"Well... you're definitely a bit naughty..." He says carefully, knowing he shouldn't be saying those things to you. You nodded and smirked hard, not even blushing, he envied you.

"I am, it's why I originally fled this annoyingly religious village" You say, muttering your words, you then realise what you said, and muttered a quick sorry, forgetting he was a priest. He chuckled softly at your words.

"Yeah...that makes sense" He says, his mind still going places it shouldn't of. He hated himself for thinking like this. He was supposed to be a religious man.

"So, I guess you dislike pricests, huh?"

"No, definitely not, I just hated growing up in a religious village, it never suited me" You say, as he heard your words he nodded in understanding.

"I understand that" He says quietly "So, where do you live now?"

"I did live a few hours away, but I had to move back, so I live with my parents again" You say, the annoyance in your voice evident. He looked back over you once again, his eyes drifting for a moment to look at your curves again, before he looked up to your face once again.

"And how do you feel about moving back?" He couldn't help himself, as he spoke his eyes slowly drifted down to look at your outfit again.

"Miserable, thought there's definitely something here now that could provide me with some excitement" You say smirking, looking him up and down. Enjoying how flustered he was at your presence. Bucky's cheeks were bright red as you say that and his mind went crazy. He hated that part of himself, which loved how you talked, so freely, he hated himself for being so weak for you already, he didn't know how to resist.

"Oh? And what could that be...?"

"Oh Father Barnes..."You say giggling, unsure if he knew exactly what you were talking about, or if he wanted you to say it out loud, you guessed the first one truthfully "I'll see you around"

You say, and then you grab your cart and start walking away down the aisle. You had hoped when you walked he would look at your bare back, and arse as you walked away, making sure your cheeks jiggled for him.

Bucky's eyes were wide.

"See you-" He called out, his words shaky as he speaks. He was speechless as he watched you go, unable to keep his mind off you. Just before you turned the corner, you turned around and blew him a kiss.

He was shocked as he watched your movements. This just caused his feelings to grow stronger, he felt himself blush deeper. He stood there, in shock, staring into space where you had just walked. He had never been this flustered in his life. He felt bad for feeling this way, but he wanted, no needed, you so badly.

A few days later, it was Saturday and beautifully sunny, you decided to head down to the beach, no one in your little village ever went to the beach, it was strange but it meant you could go there, wearing your cute little bikinis and no fucker would say a word. With your bag over your arm, within in your towel, sun lotion and a book, over you bikini you wore a cute flowy white dress that travelled down to mid thigh, the sleeves were a little poofy on your shoulders and the edges of the material had cute little patterns with tiny holes traveling along the edges.

Bucky had woken up early and after getting ready for the day, he decided to go for a walk. He found himself walking along the hot sand of the beach. He happily walked, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the clear thoughts and then he saw you. He stopped in his tracks. He knew he should leave, but he found himself walking towards you.

You laid down your towel on the beach, setting up your little section, ready to relax. Bucky walked towards you, he saw your body in that short cute, white dress, he felt himself get aroused, but he tried to fight it. He was a priest after all. He swallowed as he got closer to you. You turn around seeing him, you smile widely.

"Father Barnes, how nice to see you"

He smiled back, trying to ignore his thoughts. Seeing you out here under the sunlight, in that dress, looking so beautiful, was driving him insane and he hated that he liked it. He tried to find his words, but just seeing you was causing his brain to go crazy.

"It's very nice to see you too" He says quietly, trying to keep himself calm and control in his word, as he stared at you in that white dress, that showed off your body so much.

"Are you here to enjoy the sun to?" You ask, smiling sweetly at him. He nodded, his mind was begging to think of all the things he wanted to do to you. He was close to snapping.

"Yeah, I am" He say in a quiet voice, as his eyes kept wandering down to you, taking in your curves once again, you were now sitting on the towel, looking up at him.

"Join me?" You ask, smirking, you had a teasing look in your eyes. He swallowed as the words left your mouth. He wanted to, more than anything. But he was a man of god, it was so wrong, but god you looked so good.

"I don't think I should" He says in a low voice, although his mind was begging to yell and scream that he wanted to, he wanted to do way more than just join you.

"Oh" You say a little disappointedly "Well, that's okay, I was going to sunbathe anyways"

You say shrugging, you stand once more and grab the bottom of your dress, dragging upwards across your body, slowly, just to tease him, you pull your dress over your head leaving you in your dark pink bikini. Bucky froze as he watched you take it off, he didn't expect that, which wasn't a bad thing at al. He stared at you in your bikini, his eyes trailing every curve you had. He wanted to pull you against him and hold you so badly, but he couldn't. He was a man of god, he reminded himself.

You laid down on your towel, sighing happily as you felt the sun shine down on your body completely. Bucky watched as you laid down, he couldn't take his eyes off you, as you displayed your body to him, his thoughts were running wild. He had wanted to lay down next to you and hold you, so badly, his mind was begging him to do it. Despite that, he forced himself to sit down next to you, and tried looking at the sky, and not you.

"Oh, you decided to join me" You say, smirking. He bit his lip and looked over your body, he nodded.

"I did" He said in a low voice, his mind screaming at him, begging him for take you. You grabbed your sun lotion and began rubbing it over your legs, and then your arms and then up to your stomach and to your chest, rubbing the lotion all over, knowing he was watching your every move. Bucky was watching, and he was watching closely. His mind went crazy as he watched you, the right of your body making it hard for him to breath.

"Hey, would you mind?" You ask, breaking him from his trance. He looked up to your face, giving you a confused look.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Rub lotion on my back?" You asked, biting your lips and holding the bottle out to him "I can't reach"

His eyes went wide, he nodded, not trusting his voice currently. He reached over and took the bottle from your hand. He had to fight his mind as he thoughts screamed, begging to run his hands over your body.

"A...alright" He said, in a surprisingly soft voice.

"Thanks Father Barnes" You say with a smirk, turning over to lie on your front. You knew what you were doing to him. He hated how you could just make his mind go crazy. Even just calling him 'Father Barnes' was turning him on so badly. He put some of the lotion on his hand and went to touch your skin, when you stopped him.

"Oh, wait"

He stopped instantly, his heart was racing.

You reach behind you and undo the string of you bikini leaving your back completely bare to him, you lie your head on your arms and try not to giggle, wishing you could see his face. He wanted to touch more than your back, but he couldn't....he couldn't. He was fighting with himself, he couldn't. He was supposed to be a man of god. But god, he wanted to break that rule so badly right now.

You sighed happily when his hands touch your back, rubbing your skin so gently with his big, soft hands. Bucky was breathing rather quickly as he continued, his mind begging to break his rules, but he couldn't let himself do that. He had to control himself, control his desires.

"Mmm" You moan softly "Thanks Father Barnes"

He froze for a moment when you moaned, he felt himself getting more and more aroused as he touched you.

"P..please don't call me that"

"But that's your name" You say with a giggle. He continued to rub the lotion into your back, he swallowed and spoke in a low voice.

"I know that...but it's my title. You calling me that like that...is making it harder for me to control myself"

"Oops, sorry" You say quietly, but you weren't sorry.

"N...no need to apologies...I just.." His hands stopped rubbing your back for a moment, as he paused, trying to control himself again.

"Sorry, I know I'm a little bit of a bad girl" You say grinning, you move, holding the front of your bikini, you moved to do it up and sat in front of him, crossing your legs. Bucky's heart was racing as you watched you. He was struggling to ignore how you made him feel.

"You...are definitely...a bad girl" He said quietly, but he didn't mean it as an insult, just a fact. You giggle playfully at his words.

"Will god punish me?" You asked, fearing you'd pissed him off.

"Yes...he will...he definitely will"

"Good thing I like punishments then" You say smirking, watching for his reaction. He swallowed, wanting nothing more than to give you those kinds of punishments, he knew that was a bad thought, he wanted to give them to you, he could think of a few in his head right now. He tried to calm down.

"Are you saying you want to be punished...?"

"Are you offering. Father Barnes?" You ask, biting your lip, you even went as far as to clasp your hands together, making sure your arms pushed your chest together, giving him a view. Bucky bit his lip as he heard your words, he knew he shouldn't of answered, but something in him snapped and the words left his mouth anyway.

"....yes, I am"

"You should be careful, giving me all kinds of ideas" You spoke, and he was. Ideas and ideas went through your mind, imagining his spanking you, tieing you up, gagging you. The ideas were enough to make you feel wet in between your legs. Bucky wasn't being careful anymore, he wasn't thinking straight, not when he wanted you so badly. He hated how weak for you he was, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't resist you, even though he was suppose to, he couldn't fight these feelings when they were so strong for you.

"What kind of ideas...?"

"Who's being naughty now?" You asked him, shuffling a little closer to him, careful not to get any sand on your skin. Bucky found himself wanting to give into his desires, wanting to hold you, kiss you, tell you all sort, his body felt heated.

"I am...god, I'm being naughty" He said, shocked at himself, he should of walked away and never spoke to you again, but he didn't. He stayed. And when you giggled, he felt his heart burst.

"Yeah you are, whatcha gonna do about it?" You asked, your playful tone now more serious. He looked you up and down and finally spoke.

"I'm going to...punish you" He said, his voice low and dominant. "You are you? Wanna take me back to your pretty little church? Bend me over that stage" You say, grinning, his blushed harder with every word, you spoke again, wanting to see his reaction "Spank me?"

Bucky's eyes widen, he could picture it so clearly. The image in his mind turning him on more.

"Yes...I do" He says quietly then slowly he stands up and looks down at you.

"Get up, we have somewhere to go" He adds.

"Holy shit, really?" You asked, shocked, you hadn't thought he was being serious. You stood up and brushed down any sand on your body.

"Yes...really...right now" He says, his voice low and dominant.

"Gods, fuck" You whisper, you grab your dress and put it back over your body. Bucky smirked as he watched you, his mind was going crazy, he wanted you so badly, once you were ready he started to walk, and you followed close behind him.

"Walk a little quicker" He orders, his voice still soft but dominant.

"Yes Father Barnes" You respond, reading for this dominant side of Bucky. Your body was warm, and tingling. You picked up the pace, and walked toward until you reached the church, Bucky unlocks the doors and hurries you in, locking the door behind you. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pushes you against the wall, pinning your wrists against the wall, keeping you held against the wall.

"You're about to break so many rules" You say grinning "You sure you wanna do that?"

Bucky swallowed as you spoke, he felt how close you were, his body pressed against yours. He looked into your eyes and replied in a low dominant voice.

"Oh yes....I want to.."

"Naughty, naughty priest"

He chuckles softly as you spoke, he leaned down to your ear and whispered very quietly.

"I want you so badly....I shouldn't...but I want you so badly"

You giggled at his words, enjoying him, enjoying being pinned against the wall by your naughty priest. You thought to yourself, your parents were wrong, you couldn't be made into a good girl, being bad was too much fun.

"Punish me" You whisper. Bucky bit his lip, he liked that you were enjoying this.

"You're going to across my lap, and I'm going to spank you"

"Fuck...yes sir" You whispered. He let go of your wrists and moved back slightly, he walked over to a pew and sat down, he looked at you and pointed down next to him.

"Come here then" He said, using that dominant tone. You walked over to him and climbed onto him, resting your front over his lap, you pushed your hands against the pew, holding yourself up.

Bucky smirked, he wrapped his large firm hands around your waist keeping you still over his lap. Once you were comfortable, he reached down and started moving your dress up your legs, pulling it over your behind, bunching it up at your lower back.

"Ready?" He asks.

"Yes, Father Barnes"

Bucky's eyes trail over your bare legs as he raised his hand up into the air, he swallowed as he held it there for a moment before swifty bringing it down on your bare skin. He could hear the sound of his hand smacking your flesh as it echoed around the empty church.

"One" He said in a low voice, still keeping his hand against your skin. You moaned loudly the second his hand came into contact with your skin. He slowly removed his hand from your skin, and took a second to look down, he was able to see the red mark on your skin and he found himself wanting to see more.

He brought his hand up again, and brought it back down on your skin, this time a little harder.

"Two" He said in a low voice, his hand resting against your skin for a few moments before being lifted again, then he brought it back down, once more a little harder. You wiggled a little on his lap as the slaps echoed through the church, you kept your eyes closed and moaned each time.

He repeated the process, each smack getting harder. He swallowed as he slowly started seeing more, and more red marks appear on his skin. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter in your bikini bottoms, you wanted Bucky to know, so you had a little idea.

"May I do something, to make it easier for you?" You ask sweetly. He stops spanking you for a moment and looks down to you, his hand was still resting on your arse whilst he raises an eyebrow at you.

"What...what is it?" He asks in a low voice. You carefully climbed off his lap and moved your hands to shimmy off your underwear, you dropped them on the floor and then climbed back onto his lap in the previous position you had been in.

"I'm all yours" You purr.

"Just remember, you asked for this" He says calmly, he could see you now, your naked arse cheeks, if he spread them he'd see both your holes, ready to be used by him. He didn't, he needed to punish you first, and not get distracted by your perfect little holes.

"Oh, I know baby" You say grinning. He swallowed as he heard you call him 'baby' he found himself liking how you sounded so sweet.

"I want you to count them" He says bluntly.

"Yes, Father Barnes" You say. He brings his hand down to your arse again and you count, starting again from one.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

You could feel yourself dripping from your clearly needy pussy onto his trousers, you had hoped he could feel it also. Bucky could, your wetness had dropped down onto his thin trousers and soaked through onto his skin, he bit his lip and stifled a groan.

"You're doing so well" He whispers.

"Am I being a good girl for you?" You ask playfully.

"Yes, you are being a good girl...for me" He admitted in a low voice.

"If you keep going, I'll only ever be a good girl for you" You whisper, meaning the words as you say them. You may have only met the man a few days ago, but you felt it, wanting this feeling forever. Bucky smirked, he loved it, loved that you were going to be good for him, it only turned him on even more.

"Oh really? You'll only be good for me, no one else? Just for me?" He asks, wanting to hear you confirm it again.

"Just you, I promise....Father Barnes" You say, adding his title just to tease him a little.

"Good girl, you're mine now, aren't you?"

"Yes, Father Barnes" You repeat his title, smirking.

"Good, I like the sound of that" He said, the tone of his voice giving you away all he was feeling for you, all the things he wanted to do to you. You giggled softly, and sighed happily as he rubbed his hand over the red mark in the shape of his own handprint on your skin.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You ask.

"Yes... what is it?" He asks, his mind running wild at whatever you could be thinking.

You move off his lap, your legs feeling a little wobbly as you do and then you stand in front of him.

"I'd like it if you would fuck me, up there on you little stage" You say, smirking and pointing to the stage at the top of the church. He swallowed hard, he never thought he would hear you say something like that.

"Are you trying to be naughty?" He asks, in a low dominant voice.

"Always" You say with a giggle.

"That's not very good, being naughty on purpose...I will have to punish you more for that then" He says, smirking darkly.

"Punish me how...daddy Barnes?" You ask innocently. Bucky's mind was going crazy and he knew if you carried on like this he would lose it.

"That would be telling..and good girls trust their daddy's don't they?"

"Fuck, yes they do" You whisper, happy he played into your kinks. He loved how you responded, it only made him want you more.

"Good girls obey their daddy's, don't they?" He asks, taking a step closer to you.

"Yes sir" You say quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "You know what good girls do?"

"What do good girls do?" He asks, still trying to control himself.

"They crawl on their hands and knees up to the pretty stage where their daddy will fuck them" You say innocently, a sly grin forming on your lips. Bucky felt his arousal instantly fill his body even more, his mind full of scenarios and thoughts less tame than before. He wanted you so badly, you were so bad, so naughty, and he loved it.

"You're being a very naughty girl, right now"

You nodded and slowly slide down to the ground, resting on your knees, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are..." He said in a low voice as he watches you sink to your knees, his cock was painfully hard now, still confined in his trousers, he got harder when he looked down at you, knowing you weren't wearing panties under the dress.

"Yes, you still want me to do it, don't you daddy?" You asked, you were so wet, this was exactly what you needed, deprived, messed up foreplay, leading to passionate and hard sex. And you didn't think the village priest was going to be the one giving it to you. Bucky's cock got harder every time you said daddy, it wasn't a kink he was aware he had. But here you were. He was losing control of himself, he nodded before he answered.

"I do want you to do that...so much" He said, his voice barely above a whisper, he couldn't believe you were going to crawl across the floor for him, he couldn't believe you let him spank you. He was shocked that he even had it in him to do this, but he liked it. You smirked and moved so you were on all fours, making sure your dress was resting on your lower back, giving him a peek of your dripping wet pussy. And then you started to slowly crawl to the stage, the ground was cold and it hurt, but you could hear Bucky's heavy breathing and knew this was affecting him and that was all that mattered. He moved with you, walking behind so he could see you, his mouth watered as he looked at your wet centre, he wanted his mouth on you, his tongue deep within your folds.

"Such a good girl" He murmurs in a low voice, his eyes following your every move.

"Imagine if I had a little leash, you could lead me by the throat" You say quietly, the idea causing a shiver to run through you. Bucky's breath hitched, he loved the idea.

"Oh yes, imagine that..." He said quietly, his eyes trailing over you, thinking about how it would look with a little leash, following you. Once you reached the bottom of the stage you sit back on your knees, facing him.

"Use my mouth?" You ask, giving him wide innocent eyes as you look up at him. Bucky loved this, he loved how submissive you were being, all for him. He had started rubbing his cock through his trousers, he had never been so hard before, it ached, he needed his cock inside of you. He looked down at you, sitting on your knees, and he know what he wanted to do with you...now it was just about getting you to beg for it.

"How badly do you want that?" He asks calmly.

"Bad girls don't deserve opinions, they have their mouths used, whether they want it or not" You answered, you had hoped this answer showed Bucky you weren't playing, you wanted this, and you wanted everything and anything he was willing to give. He swallowed once as he heard you say this, he liked the way you talked to him right now, the control he had over you, it was driving him crazy.

"You are a bad girl, aren't you?" He replies. You nodded and opened your mouth, your tongue bar shining as you stuck your tongue out. Bucky felt his mouth go dry in that moment, he never thought he had a tattoo and piercing kink, but today he knew for sure, he did. It took all of his composure not to grab you and kiss you.

"God, you're so good" He mutters, finally he unbuttons his belt, throwing it somewhere, he had a little thought that next time, he was going to use that belt on you. Though he did really like seeing his hand print on your skin. Your mouth watered as he pulled down his trousers and boxers, he stepped out of them, and kicked them aside. His hand was now around his cock, his hard cock, he pumped his hand around it a few times, stepping closer to you. Your mouth was still watering, he was large, thick and veiny, you squeezed your thighs together imagining it stretching you out.

Finally Bucky grabs the back of your head and thrusts his cock into your mouth, doing as you requested, using your mouth. He groaned loudly at the feeling, sure he had done things like this before...before... but it had been a long time since, but nothing compared to this, your mouth was perfect and Bucky found himself thrusted hard into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, all whilst he was muttering a string of 'fucks' and 'gods' your sweet, hot mouth enough to make him take his lord's name in vain. He didn't care. You kept your mouth open for him, closing your lips around his cock, moving your tongue best you could, but he didn't leave much space inside of your mouth. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your mascara stained and in streaks down your face, you didn't care as you moaned loudly for him, you moved one of your hands down your body to your wet untouched pussy, your fingers slick as they pushed through your folds and down to your hole and then back up to your clit, you expertidly pressed against the little bundle of nerves moaning loudly, you hoped Bucky would see what you were doing and punish you more.

Both of his hands were on either sides of your face, he held you as he fucked your mouth, he was very aware of your breathing, making sure to check on you in the midst of him face fucking you. He stroked the tears away, slowing his movements down when he sees your hand moving fast against your own skin. He stops moving holding his cock in your mouth for a moment, gagging you until he moves away, you take a few deep breaths and then look up at him, your mascara was no longer on your eyes, now completely streamed down your face, you had drool around your lips, your puffy red lips. Bucky thought you looked beautiful.

"Why are you doing that?" He asked, pointing down to your hand, still moving slowly through your slick core.

"I'm a bad girl, remember?" You ask, your voice a little scratchy.

"Yes, you are a bad girl" He says, his voice still dominant. You giggle and keep your hand moving, sitting more on your bum now, spreading your legs a little, though your dress hid you mostly.

"Don't you like watching me?"

He swallows as he watches you, his eyes were trained on your hand, wanting to see more.

"I do like watching you" He admits.

"I can keep going?"

"Yes...yes you can" He says in a low voice, loving this too much.

"Anything for you" You whisper, you stand up from the ground and hop onto the stage, sitting on your bum. You raise both legs and rest them on the edge of the stage so you were spread out completely for him, the air hit your pussy and it felt great, and knowing it was the only place where Bucky could look right now, made you feel warm inside. You lifted your dress and moved your fingers back down, spreading your lips further for him, letting him see your tight hole. You watched as Bucky licked his lips, his hand was around his cock again as he stepped closer to you, watching you completely expose yourself to him.

"Good girl" He whispers, taking another step closer, he was stood at the edge of the stage now, his body a teasing distance away, he kept watching you pleasure yourself, gasping when you pressed two fingers into your hole, you were wet, so wet that you could hear the noises your body was making with each movement from your fingers.

"Why don't you come for me... come for me" He says in a low tone, he swallowed as he stayed still watching your fingers sped up, he licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to taste you, but he didn't, wanting to see you finish, just for him. Your fingers move perfectly against your skin, just how you liked it until you were coming hard, calling out his name as it echoed throughout the church. Bucky loved it, he wanted more, wanted you to moan his name over and over. He couldn't take it anymore, when your legs flopped slightly, he pressed both of his hands to your waist, needing to feel your skin.

"Take me Father Barnes, right here, on your stage" You say, feeling a little lopsy. Bucky smiled as he heard your words, you were begging for him, and he loved it.

"Oh, I will"

"How do you want me? On all fours? On my back? Bent over your little stage?" You asked, giving him ideas. Bucky pictured all the options and more, and he needed them all. His mind was going crazy with thoughts again.

"All of them...I want you in every position imaginable" He says, his voice still dominant, full of want and need for you.

"Oh you sweet man" You say with a fond giggle "Careful, or I may fall in love"

Bucky froze for a moment, he found himself liking the sound of you falling in love with him, he wanted you to be his, and only his. He takes another step towards the stage, now very close to you.

"Oh I want you to be in love with me" He says in a love, dominant voice, as his eyes roam over your body, he wasn't able to hold back his feelings and desires any more, he needed you so badly.

"Show me what that cock can do, and maybe I will" You answer, a foreign feeling in your chest, though you tried to ignore it.

Bucky climbs onto the stage, climbing over you body, hovering over you, his hard cock bounced against his stomach.

"I'll show you..." He says in a low voice, his breath tickling your lips now. You grin and wrap your arms around his neck, laying your hands flat against half his neck and half his jaw.

"You're mine...you do know that, don't you? You belong to me" He murmurs, his breathing becoming faster, his mind full of lust and desire.

"All yours, take me you naughty priest" You say quietly, his cock was dragging across your lower stomach, leaving a wet stripe of precum and it made you want him even more, you opened your legs wider, a silent beg for him. Bucky looked down, seeing you pinned underneath him.

"Mine to take" He says quietly, his hand moved down to grip his cock, slowly he rubbed his head through your very wet folds, both of your breaths hitched, and you moved your hands to grip his shoulders.

"Make it hurt" You say playfully, done with the slowness you needed him, deep inside of you.

Bucky swallows again, he was shocked by the request, but excited and aroused by it at the same time.

"You want it to hurt?" He asks, just wanting to confirm what you mean, wanting to hear you say it again.

"I want you to fuck me so hard the walls shake, put your hand around my throat, so I feel dizzy as I come hard squeezing your cock" You say in a low, filthy tone. Bucky's mind ran wild, he pressed the head of his cock inside of you, groaning loudly at the tightness of you just around his cock. He couldn't imagine how you'd feel fully around him.

"You're a bad girl, a very bad girl" He says quietly, you nodded and wiggled your hips, moaning softly when he went in a little deeper. He grinned, knowing he was teasing you and enjoying the feeling. He felt himself grow harder within you, if that were possible, he knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Such a naughty, impatient bad girl. I'll have to punish you even more, even harder..."He says, in a low dominant voice, as his mind got wilder.

"Punish me, take me...please Bucky" You begged, hoping that using his actual name would be enough. He finally pushes deep into you, slowly stretching you, you both moan loudly, your nails dug into his shoulders whilst his hands balled into fists on either side of your head.

Bucky felt himself going crazy, it felt...better than anything. He loved it, so much and he wanted more, wanted to hear you moan, again and again. He began to slowly move, his body on top of yours, pinning you to the church stage, he moved one hand down to your hip, holding you so hard it would surely leave bruises, or at least you hoped.

"Hold my neck...please" You begged.

For a moment Bucky worried that he would really hurt you if he did, but he was past arguing, he was going to do anything you wanted. He slowly moved his hand from your hip and slowly trailed it up the side of your body up to your neck. He wrapped his large, strong hand around your neck, keeping a good firm grip on it. You moaned loudly, his thrusts got harder and deeper, and with his hand on your throat it didn't take long for the pleasure to rip through you, you moaned loudly, enjoying the echo through the church, as you came hard, squeezing his thick cock. Bucky groans loudly and fucks into you harder, he closed his eyes and moved to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his hand still firm on your neck as his hips fuck into you.

"Do you like it, me having my hand around your neck like this...?" He asks.

"Y..yes! Wanna know what I love even more?" You ask, your voice strained under his grip.

He lifted himself from your shoulder, slowing his thrusts.

"What do you love more than this..?"

"I love that I corrupted you, Father Barnes" You say with a smirk. He swallows, he couldn't deny that you did. You made him break his vows, he was acting against everything he had swore to do.

"Yes...you did corrupt me" He said, his voice dripping with desire for you.

"I'm a naughty little sinner"

"Yes you are... you're a naughty little sinner, but you're my naughty little sinner. My bad girl, and you're mine to do what I want with you" He said, his dominant tone having a underlying care to it. His thrusts were hard and deep, the slap of his hips against your hips loud and wet.

"Gods yes...Are you gonna finish inside of me, daddy?" You ask smirking, your back was arched and your legs lopped to the side of his hips as you struggled to hold them up.

"Yes, I want to...Oh, can I?" He asks, his tone sounding more pathetic by the second. His forehead was against yours, his hand tightened against your throat as his thrusts got messy, you were so tight around him, he was euphoric.

"Do it"

"Are you going to be a good girl for me...and take it all?" He whispers, his thrusts sloppy and fast as he pounds into you.

"Yes sir! Oh yes...daddy! Yes..Father Barnes" You whine as you feel yourself finish again, clenching around his cock "I'll take it all for you"

Bucky sped up, his hand tightened as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him fuck into you deeper, you both moaned loudly as you felt him finish inside of you, he groaned and slammed his hips against yours, keeping himself fully into you as he pulses, filling you with his seed.

Your vision went spotty as his hand gripped you, the pleasure overwhelming you, you gripped hard on his shoulders.

He slowly let go of your neck, moving his hand down to your hip, holding you close to him, wanting you to never move.

"How do you feel, my little sinner?" He whispers. You take a large breath and giggle.

"I'm great...are you...okay?" You ask.

He swallows and rests his head against your shoulder, breathing slowly as he tried to process what he had just felt with you.

"Yes...yes, I'm okay...that...that was incredible. You're incredible..." He whispers, his mind still feeling wild with everything he felt, but also beginning to slowly return to a calmer state from before. You held onto one another for a while, not speaking just breathing and existing together.

"Can't believe we did it in a church" You say, with a giggle.

He slowly sat up, removing himself from you. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you, his eyes still full of desire, but also full of something else, he was in awe of you.

"I know..I never thought I could do anything like this..least of all in a church. But I don't regret it, I don't want to regret what we did...I'm glad we did" He says, his eyes still roaming over your body, he couldn't help himself.

"You don't regret it?" You ask carefully, a small part of you worried, he would. Maybe he'd get angry at you. But he shook his head, looking into your eyes.

"No...I don't regret it, not even a little bit. I don't regret doing that with you, not after what it felt like...not after hearing you like that. It's something I will never forget. I'll never regret doing something I wanted to so, so badly"

"You just threw away a life to god, for a girl, you just met" You say quietly. He did feel horrible for it, forgoing his life goals, but he knew from the moment he had set his eyes on you, that he could never resist you, he could never resist the temptation...

"I know...I know I sacrificed something I swore my life to...but it's something I wanted to do. I wanted you, you won over god"

"Bucky...you...you don't even know me" You whisper, the guilt suddenly settling in, surprising you, you hadn't thought you would feel guilt, but when you looked into his blue eyes. "I can't believe I did this to you"

Bucky shook his head, not knowing what to say, but he knew he wanted to say something to make you understand.

"It's not your fault, don't put this on yourself...I'm the one that threw my life away. Don't feel guilty. You're innocent in this. This is my doing, it's my fault, I wanted it too" He explains, though you wanted to giggle, you definitely were not innocent.

"I...I don't even know why I'm feeling guilt, I never do...What makes you, so different" You say, wiggling a little, still lying underneath him. He was staring at you, his eyes roaming over your body like you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He wasn't sure of the answer himself, but he had to explain. At least try to explain why he felt the way he did and why he felt like he couldn't resist you, and what was different about you.

"I don't know why either...You make me feel powerless" He whispers. You smile softly, feeling the same about him, you reach up and press your lips against his ever so slightly. You both sigh contently into the kiss for a moment, before you move away and ask.

"What do we do now?"

Bucky swallowed as he wondered the same thing. He knew that he had given up everything he had sworn to do. He could never be a priest again, ever. He was lost and he really had no idea what to do.

"I...I don't know...What are we supposed to do. I'm lost. I feel like I should have a plan, but I don't...I really don't have a clue on what the hell I'm going to do now" He whispers, feeling lost. And you felt the same. Neither of you belong here. Maybe he never did belong here.

"Fuck.."You whisper, then thinking of an idea. "We could run away together"

Bucky thought about it for a moment, nodding his head slowly, the idea beginning to make sense to him the more he thought about it.

"Run away together...I like the sound of that...yes. We could run away together, we'll go somewhere we won't be found, we start over and we stay together"

"We could...I have no money...but I'll get a job, we'll drive away, get money, move into a quiet little cabin, away from people"

Bucky smiles slightly as you talk, imagining the scenario in his head. He loved it, the idea of running away together to somewhere no one would know know of. He loved the idea of being alone, with you. And only you.

"I have money, I have enough to last us for a long time, we could live for months, maye a year. But yes, we can live somewhere away from everyone. Somewhere quiet and away from any prying eyes"

"And you're sure?" You ask quietly. He nodded, more confident than ever that he was making the right choice by choosing to run away with you.

"Yes...yes I'm sure. No hesitation, I know what I want, and it's you. I'm sure of it, I want to run away with you" He says quietly, his nose bumping yours slightly.

"Let's go then" You say smiling. He smiled and nodded, leaning down to give you a kiss.

"Alright then, we'll pack, and get out of here as soon as we could" He says quietly,

"We need to get up and get dressed and go" You say, smirking, the idea was mad, completely crazy. But you never felt like you belonged in this village. You never felt like you belong anywhere, but with Bucky, you could belong. He stood up first, helping you onto your feet, you dress quickly and take both his hands in yours, standing in front of him.

"I'll go to my house, and then we meet here, in an hour?" You ask, rubbing your hands over his palms and up his arms.

"Perfect, I'll see you in an hour" He says with a smile.

"See you soon handsome" You whisper, reaching up to peck his lips lightly.

Bucky kissed you back, feeling himself blush at the compliment, a smile appearing on his face. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes, feeling new feelings wash through him.

"I'll see you soon beautiful" He whispers, kissing you again, before he slowly released you from his arms, watching you leave his church. Soon you'd be together, away from this town, and together. Where nobody knew you. You couldn't wait, you packed the very basic things, leaving a note for your parents, before you met Bucky back at the church, he was ready with his car. And with one more kiss, you got into the car and drove away from the village where neither of you belonged. Both scared and terrified for the next step into the adventure, but you'd be together.

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