#if any of you want to have notifications for this future series

[goatgoesmbe]

tw : sexual theme, stalking, 141 being a creep

A series : part 2 of Discord shenanigans

AO3

Word count: 2031

rated: E

Poly!141 x f!reader

The New Member

The server wasn’t meant for public in the first place.

It was just something quick Johnny made just to have a little corner to hang out when they were on leave.

They rarely used it at first, finding no reason to communicate outside of work, they were busy with their own life anyway.

That was, until Johnny started sending pictures of literally anything in his daily life. It started with scenery, dogs he saw during walks, and selfies. Soon enough, Simon joined in with his own blurry pictures, then Kyle’s award-worthy photography, and John who sent the most normal pictures of some nice views worth sharing.

Eventually, interacting through the server became so regular that they started using it when they got back on base too– They never talk about something confidential in it of course, they were still professionals after all.

The gaming session was Kyle’s idea (Well, actually it was Johnny but he couldn’t convince them to play among us), they started playing various FPS games before settling for the popular one.

Kyle played casually, Johnny played competitively (and sucked at it compared to the others), John played it rarely but was pretty decent at it, while Simon was effortlessly good at it (Which he was so smug about).

The members consisted of people they knew from their jobs, so imagine their surprise when there was a notification about a new member.

You.

They welcomed you in a friendly manner, showing no suspicion despite John telling Kyle to do a background check immediately. And oh do they like what they see.

Pretty thing that you are, messy hair, pouty lips, dark bags under your eyes that only made you look more adorable rather than off-putting, like a sleepy panda. You always wore comfortable clothes oversized shirts or hoodies on colder days while your legs were bare, sitting crosslegged in your gaming chair with a big plushie in your lap. Johnny wondered if you wore anything underneath which made them go silent. made them think.

Fuck.

It was illegal and immoral, but really– everything they had ever done was all of those things and more, so what’s a bit of hacking into the webcam of a bonnie thing like you? It was done for their own safety after all, keeping their secrets as members of a highly classified military task force. It was only normal for them to check for any individuals that got into their space. Just in case.

Sure, they could just drop it when they found out that you were just a harmless civilian, but they also learned that you were just a sweet thing.. they immediately took a liking to you, adored you, so of course they had to keep an eye on you because they wanted to make sure you were alright. Keeping a civilians safe was part of their job, right?

You live alone, which made sense as to why you have CCTVs around your place. Smart girl, looking after your security seriously. Adorable.

Was it creepy for them to have access to those CCTVs? They just cared about your safety is all, was it wrong?

Well, they didn’t really care if it was, they were in too deep already, addicted to watching you in your own world, from your pretty face looking adorable as you focused on the game you were playing, the chime of your giggle when Johnny sent something stupid, to the way those innocent eyes showed no suspicion when one of them slipped up.

“Not as bonnie as you ;)” Johnny sent one time.

“You don’t even know what i look like XD”

Fortunately, you were oblivious. But still, they need to be more careful in the future. Johnny had a limp the next day and his body was covered in marks that peeked from the t-shirt he wore. But from how he barely covered them and how he still had that smirk on his face, it looked like he would definitely do it again if it would have John sending Simon to punish him.

Watching you had become a group routine. When they weren’t in the same room, they just hopped on the hidden channel Johnny made just to ping each other whenever you were doing something that would pique their interest.

Kyle enjoyed watching you go about with your routine, waking up at noon, cooking up something simple for yourself before you lock into your PC to do your freelance job then hopped into video games. His favorite was when you did your skincare, hand went down to cup the bulge in his pants as he watched you putting on lotion all over your body. His eyes darkened at the thought of him doing it instead, sliding his hand up your legs, lathering them nicely, and perhaps sneaking an opportunity for a feel of your clothed pussy when he reached your inner thighs.

Johnny likes to watch your reaction whenever you two interact, relishing your flustered expression from his relentless flirting. He wondered if you would also be shy under him, squirming as you tried to hide your face while he took off your clothes. He would click his tongue as he pried your hands off your face and gripped both of your wrists in one hand before pinning them above your head, one knee lodged between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

John’s favorite part of your day was when you were working. Tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, your doe eyes shifted and looked sharper when you were focused. He was there when you were in an online meeting with your employer, even though noone noticed. As he watched you talk, he liked to imagine that you were working for him instead. Talking formally unlike how you usually were when you were talking to them, he imagined you calling him sir like how you called your current boss. The bastard that made you uncomfortable with the way he leered at you, making innuendos while you tried your best to keep the conversation professional. You poor thing, don’t worry, John will teach him a lesson or two about respecting you. And yes, he was a hypocrite since he was lazily pumping his shaft under the desk as he watched you doing your job.

Simon rarely said anything about it, but out of everyone in the server, he was a constant presence with how the view count never went below one. He wasn’t picky, he liked watching you doing anything, even when you were just sleeping, he’d fuck his fist messily at the view of you being so vulnerable and oblivious before shooting his cum all over the screen with your face displayed on it. He was the one who would ping the others to notify them when you were doing something he knew they would be interested in.

Like right now.

It had been a long week, you barely had time to do your hobby. Projects after project that got you awake until two am before a quick wink of rest until you had to wake up again at five. When you were looking forward to doing something fun but then finding yourself too tired to even play your favorite game. And then you’d feel bad for neglecting your hobby as you continued to be enslaved under capitalism.

You were tired, sleep-deprived, stressed, and pent-up. At times like this, you were glad that you worked from home. You couldn’t imagine yourself not snapping at people if you work in an office with coworkers. Couldn’t even find the energy to open the server these past few days since you didn’t want to interact with anyone.

So naturally, they would miss you. Naturally, they were very excited when Simon pinged all of them in the hidden channel.

The light in your room was dimmed, but they could see your figure just fine. Panting on the bed on your back, legs spread wide with your hand between them while your other hand was clutching a pillow which you use to hide your face. 

John growled, fingers twitching as he thought of taking it off you so he could see what kind of expression you were making. Instead, he gripped Kyle’s dick as the younger man rolled his hips with the Captain bottoming out in his ass as they were both settled on the couch.

Johnny pulled away from Simon’s cock with a lewd pop. “She could fit mair than that..” he panted before Simon shoved his dick back in the scot’s mouth, gloved hand gripping at his mohawk.

His words got them zeroed in on your cunt which was stuffed with your fingers deep to your knuckles. Wet squelching noises combined with your needy whines echoed around the rec room from the cheap speakers as the stream was displayed on the wall from the projector. Johnny was right, you could take more than that. And from the way you desperately bucked your hips as you moved your fingers that fast, they could tell that you wanted to take more either.

“Does she not have a fucking toy?” Kyle groaned as he jacked off with the same tempo as your fingers as he continued to move in John’s lap.

“No” Simon responded curtly. He would know, he was the one who always kept an eye on you more than anyone else after all.

He knew you didn’t have a partner and never brought anyone home. You rarely go out and when you do, you’ll be back soon enough. A quick trip to the grocery stores or some shops, as shown by the trackers he put in your phone. Low possibility of you seeking out to anyone. Perhaps it was odd for some people but he wasn’t complaining, because he was only willing to share you with the men he trusted his life with.

You rarely pleasure yourself either, which made a moment like this more special. At first, he expected you to whimper out someone’s name, a crush they didn’t know about perhaps. Fortunately, that never happened. You seem content with yourself like this, eyes closed as you focus on the way you curl your fingers and grind your palm against your clit.

But they could tell you wanted more. They agreed that you deserved more. They could give you more.

Your whole body tensed, a shudder rippled through your body as heat built in waves. Breath hitching as you gasped, soft at first before breaking into a moan, raw and unrestrained. Fingers clutching at your pillow, muscles tightening as pleasure peaked, your back arching instinctively.

A flush spread across your skin, a sheen of sweat caught the light. Eyes fluttered to a close, lips parted, as a final tremor coursed through your body before you melted into the afterglow, breathless and trembling.

Yet, your cunt still clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out, like it didn’t want to let them go, because you still wanted more. You whined, and they groaned at the expression on your face. Unsatisfied, but too tired to do anything about it.

After a moment of gathering your jumbled mind, you got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. And while they knew it was impossible, they wished you had a camera there too.

As the men chased their own pleasures, they thought to themselves about how they could help. You were physically nowhere near them at the moment, and they didn’t want to scare you by being too upfront in the server. Didn’t want you to know what they had been doing behind your back.

The next day, an onslaught of sex toy ads kept popping up when you turned on your PC. It obviously pissed you off at first (especially with how one appeared when you share your screen during a work meeting), but eventually it made you consider getting one. And if you got a transfer to your bank account in the same amount you spent on it right after, if you received four dildos instead of one, they totally had nothing to do with it. Nope, they totally didn’t send you the exact copies of their cocks.

Next (soon)

A/N: I remember someone saying 'How are you gonna get a guy if you never leave your house' and this is my answer to that also, this series was supposed to be fun silly online friends story, so idk what happened here, I swear the story wrote itself I had nothing to do with it

open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @lady-red-night-1234, @theycallmevalen, @z-wantstowrite, @c-moon20-12, @glitteryarcadefart, @purple-snowfox, @shylahstarzz, @mestrecadumaverick, @thereofrin, @crappity-craps-crap, @rottensage, @sirbonesly, @shinebright2000, @kittygonap, @savas-q1, @just-pure-trash, @sheep-from-rad, @wolfbc97, @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly, @lucienofthelakes

[navybrat817]

Double Shift

Pairing: Chop Shop Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky helps you unwind after you work a double shift.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, bit of backstory, dirty talk, mild smut, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: @nixakimbo was kind enough to gift me with this GORGEOUS edit and I had to create a new AU. Sorry, lovelies? @tavners , this is for you. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You dropped your bag the moment you walked through the door. Your feet ached despite the comfortable shoes, and your head throbbed with each passing second. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the couch, collapsing into it like it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Working doubles was exhausting, but this? This was something else entirely.

It was a long day in a series of long days, but now you had a chance to relax.

Reaching for the nearby pillow, you inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at your lips. Instead of the usual fresh scent of your couch, you caught the familiar, warm fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne. He must have spritzed it before leaving for work. It was like leaning into him and your shoulder relaxed more, even though you wished he were really there.

The sound of the door creaking open a few minutes later told you that your wish had been granted.

“Aww. Long day, baby?” Bucky cooed from the doorway, spotting you sprawled out with no intention of moving to greet him. “You know your bag’s on the ground?”

“Mm-hmm.” You rubbed your temples slowly. “You know I worked a double, right? I’m lucky I made it to the couch.”

His soft chuckle reached your ears as he set his keys down and picked up your bag. “I know and I’m sorry. You work really hard.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead once he reached the couch. “I wish you didn't have to.”

You turned your head, the throbbing in your temples easing when your eyes met his. His black tank top fit him perfectly, complementing the tattoos that stretched across his neck and arms. The skulls and flowers, symbols of death and hope, told stories of his past. Stories he didn't have to tell you about, but he did anyway and you were happy to know every detail. As captivating as the ink was, it was his blue eyes that held you. In them, you saw your future, bright and full of love.

“That’s life. And you work hard, too,” you reminded him.

“Yeah. My job is so honorable,” he mumbled, making a mess of his hair as he ran a hand through it. “I’m really making a difference in the world.”

You frowned sympathetically. Bucky was a gifted mechanic, but his family was dealt a bad hand and he did what he had to do to take care of his younger sister. “And you’ll be out of there soon.”

Once he finished paying off Becca's medical bills, he could quit. That day was getting closer and closer. And one day he’d open his own shop, too, a legitimate shop. You wanted to stand beside him when that dream came true. Becca would be so proud.

Both of you wanted the best for Bucky.

He sighed, sinking to his knees and resting his hands on your thighs. You could see the gray peppering his scruff and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your nails through it. The sound of his groan made you smile, so you did it again.

“I just wanna give you the world,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing your palm. “You know that, right?”

“You already do,” you whispered back, his eyes softening. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and his love in your heart. It was all you needed. “But you know, I could-”

Bucky put a finger to your lips to stop you. “I know what you're going to say and we’re not selling your dad's car.”

You smiled sadly. Your dad’s car was a classic and could get Bucky the money he needed, but he turned the offer down each time you brought it up. He didn't want you to give up one of the only things you had left of your dad. “I won't say a word tonight.”

But you could try again tomorrow.

“Thank you.” He took your hand and kissed your palm again. “You up for a ride later?”

“I don’t think I’m moving from this spot tonight,” you half smiled. “But we can tomorrow.”

“You don’t wanna go for a ride tonight?” he asked, surprise laced in his voice. You usually jumped at the chance to ride his motorcycle with him.

“Feet and head hurt a little,” you admitted, touching his cheek as concern etched his features. “I’m fine, really. Nothing for you to make a fuss about, but I won't turn you down if you want to dote on me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, slipping your shoes off. You gasped when he began massaging the sole of your right foot, the gentle pressure making your body sink deeper into the couch. By the time he switched to your left foot, you were practically melting. “That better?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, combing your fingers through his dark hair. He always took care of you. “I swear, you have magic hands.”

“Oh, I have more than magic hands,” he winked, your heart skipping a beat. “And you know what’s good for headaches?”

“Bucky…” you smiled. There was a warning in your voice, but you couldn't help the amusement in your eyes.

“Yes, me,” he grinned. “I’m very good at helping with headaches and you know it.”

Your smile widened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, so making you come all over my face before I cook you dinner was not what you meant and will not help your headache?” he asked, his voice deep, dripping with desire.

Whatever ache you felt in your body all went straight to your pussy. A deep, throbbing ache that cried out for him to soothe it since he was the cause. “Is making melt on your tongue as my reward for working a double?”

He smirked at your breathy tone. “That’s exactly what it is.” He didn’t need to ask you to lift your hips when he reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them off with your underwear. Your body moved on instinct for him, fluid and in sync. “I can feed you right here and carry you to bed, too.”

“I’m too big and heavy for you to carry me,” you teased. His eyes flashed, and before you could react, he leaned down unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into your thigh. Your mouth fell open from the sting, but it felt good, too. “Hey!” You shrieked.

“You’re not big. You’re not heavy. You’re perfect,” he snarled, brushing his tongue along the teeth marks. You wanted his mark all over you. “I’ll blame that remark on how tired you are right now from work.”

Framing his face to lift his head, you met his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey how much it meant to you that he saw you as beautiful. How touched you were that he always put your care and feelings first. As scary as he looked to others, you knew the man inside. The one with a heart full of passion.

“I’m not perfect,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when he nibbled your bottom lip. A second bite for once again downplaying yourself. “But I’m perfect for you.”

“You think so?” he asked quietly.

“I know so,” you said, biting his bottom lip for good measure.

He thought you were too good for him some days, and you were quick to shut that down. A good man wouldn’t have taken care of his sister the way he did, and he wouldn’t love you wholeheartedly if he was less of a good person than you. His current profession didn’t define him, and you refused to let him believe it did.

“I...” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Love...” You shivered when he kissed the other corner. “You.”

A flame lit within your heart. His tender touches and words burned you from the inside out. “I love you, too,” you managed to whisper before his lips covered yours again.

Fresh arousal washed over you when he smiled and kissed down your body. “Now let me show you with my mouth how much I love you,” he simpered, parting your legs to open for him. “Might die if I don’t get my mouth on you and you wouldn’t want that, would you? And we need to get rid of your headache.”

You moaned, also feeling like you’d die if he didn’t touch you. “Do I get your cock, too? It’s a pretty bad headache you need to help me get rid of,” you teased. If your pain actually persisted, he’d make you take something and insist on you resting. And maybe it was selfish to ask for more than one orgasm, but you both knew he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to rock your world.

“Before and after dinner,” he promised, his pupils dialting as he stared between your trembling thighs. “Fuck, I missed you today,” he groaned.

“Missed me or my pussy?” you asked, certain that you were going to soak the cushion beneath you and you didn’t care as long as he got you off. “Because we both missed you.”

He smirked, his hand inching up your thigh. “Of course, you missed me. Who else would make you come as hard as I do?”

Cocky was a good look on him, but you could play a little, too. “Well…” Your coy smile had him raising his eyebrow. “If you really want to know, there’s-” You threw your head back with a cry as Bucky’s head dipped down to taste you, effectively cutting off your teasing.

It wouldn’t take long for you to coat his fingers and tongue with your release. It never did with him. He’d make you taste yourself when he kissed you after so you could fully appreciate the orgasm he gave you. He wouldn’t give you any reprieve when he’d bend you over the couch and sink his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your sounds would be erotic music to his ears, just like his words were music to yours.

“Grind that pussy back against me. Show me how much you crave my cock.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy for me to fuck and fill.”

“Don’t you dare rub your clit. You wanna come? I’ll make you come.”

“Oh, you don’t have to beg for me to come inside you. I’ll give it to you.”

You’d scream his name in ecstasy and pass out in his arms from the best kind of exhaustion. You’d wake up to him kissing your forehead and holding you upright so he could hand feed you a delicious meal. You’d smile when he told you how much he loved you and that he'd be free of the chop shop soon. And you’d tell him you loved him, too, before he fucked you all over again.

It was going to be a good night.

Appreciate you lovelies indulging me like always and hope to share more when I can. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[limerlove]

pairing. footballplayer!vi x songwriter!reader

#chap summary. ryder huntington is the love of your life until she breaks up with you. for the past two years, she’s been your calm in the storm. the tide pulling you to the serenity of the shore. it’s always been her. yet, four months in, you receive five fatal messages putting an end to your blossoming relationship. you need time, according to her. more time to settle in your queerness. when you unleash your wrath in the dead of night, it’s not her on the other end of the line. it’s her best friend, her roommate, the lesbian everyone wants to fuck, violet vanderson.

content warnings. internalized homophobia, reader is inexperienced with women, college!au, this one is pretty warning free. a little glimpse into their dynamic.

#dykenote ◟ ྀི she’s here! i’m nervous as fuck to post this. never have i loved a project as much as i love this one. very, very excited to continue to share this one. lmk if y’all like it. happy readings angels.

series masterlist.

messages. five notifications from ryder.  1:51 am: i love you babe but i have something to confess. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and how we want different things. part of me can’t help but feel like you’re settling. ⤿ 1:59 am: mel told me the other night how terrified you were when we first kissed. the first time you asked me out. before, i thought it was cute. i know how much you love me. fuck, i really do feel it every time we’re together. but i don’t want you to regret it. you need to go have fun, be single. you’ve only discovered what you like and i want you to be sure it’s me you see a future with.  ⤿ 2:15 am: i want to be the person you see your life with but this is truly for the best. we’ll get back together once you’ve figured out exactly what you need. just for a little bit. we need this break. you deserve the queer experience, everything your heart desires. you’re still a baby gay. you need to figure yourself out. ⤿ 2:20 am: the both of us will be so much stronger because of it. i want you to have those experiences and i need to know you love me for me. not just because i’m the first. ⤿ 3:47 am: call me in the morning and we can talk. i only want the best for you. please know that.

Piltover University. Spring Semester. Year three.

5:27 am.

Each new message loads a new bullet in the chamber. Effectively shooting you in the heart as the safety is triggered. You couldn’t help yourself. The phone call made at five in the morning against your better judgement. How could she do this to you? Play your heart like it’s a toy. Some twisted game to be won with you as collateral damage. 

“Ryd, you really don’t have the decency to do this in person? Telling me I need to have more experiences because I’m not gay enough? Because I’ve only now realized I like women. You know what? Fuck you. You are everything to me and you give me some shitty fucking texts to end things—”

The blood is pumping through your veins so viciously. Not for a moment do you relinquish an ounce of your terror.

“You are a goddamn coward. If you want to run, at least give me the goddamn respect I deserve and tell me to my face. Feeding me nonsense on how straight I’ve lived my live. I’m goddamn gay. Why would I possibly regret any of this? Regret you? Don’t make me as an excuse. If you want leave? Be gone then. Really Ryd, tell me who the fuck she is? There has to be someone else for you to act like a goddamn idiot.” 

Inadequate silence punctures the space between your ribs as you wait for her to speak with whatever dignity she has left. Ready for her to split you open, bared seeds for her flesh to sink into, tailor-made for her to obtain.

Possessively cruel, Ryder Huntington, the goalie who captured everyone’s hearts. Instead of feeling free, your heart is captured in a cage. With her name written all over it. Beady eyes watching as you try to pick the lock. A sunflower basking in the sun shifting to her insecurities illuminated by the moon.

Is she right? Are you biting off more than you can chew?

The same woman you couldn’t help but fall for when she kissed you on New Years Eve underneath the first snowfall of winter. The most romantic moment in memory. All the pining, the tension, the coffee dates you imagined to be nothing more than friendly occurrences with an underlying hope.

This was it. 

You’re supposed to get the girl. Ryder is yours and somehow, you still managed to lose her.

“Fuck, Ryd really made a mess of you, huh?” But it isn’t her. No— shit — it’s not— 

Oh, fuck me. V. 

“Where is she?” You’re seething, molars dig into your gums, the muscle in your jaw twitching in desperation. “Put her on the phone.” 

“No can do, princess. She left this morning for her workout.” There’s a crunch on the other line. Her perfectly aligned teeth craving edges in the green apples she loves so much. “Surprised you want to get a hold of her. Doesn’t seem like the two of you are in good spirits.” 

You didn’t really know how to feel about her. Mouth sharp as knives, her big-blue eyes subconsciously begging, the inked-art on her back you’ve only seen glimpses of. The one on her neck you think about tracing with your tongue in your dreams.

She’s beautiful, that’s obvious, anyone on campus could tell you that. More striking than her vibrant hair, or the way a few lone pieces jaggedly cut to create her messy, half-brazen mullet. The piercings on her face, the hoop looping through her hose, the two silver gems accentuating her eyebrow.

And the most noticeable, the one that catches your eyes, a black ball pierced through the skilled-muscle in her mouth. Contrasting against her pink tongue as she plays with it in concentration. Making you curse the gods above for making her so goddamn enchanting.

Above everything else, she’s an athlete, top of her game on and off the field. Without even blinking, V can have whoever she likes. Man or woman but she sticks to the latter. Universally adored, and to make matters worse, you see her constantly.

The roommate of your girlfriend, the captain of the football team — you can’t escape her — and it’s puzzling why she’s the one who seems to evade your attention. When you’re alone, V turns on the heat. Flirting in passing so she can make you squirm but not going too far where it could mean anything.

A simple shrug off when you try to address it. The woman on the other end is simply a puzzle you can’t walk away from. Her presence in your life is more prominent than it’s ever been.

In the third year of university, Ryder and her share an apartment across campus. The rent is stupidly expensive and with them both being here on scholarships, neither one of them could afford it alone. A means of financial convenience. Ryder and V have been thick as thieves from second year and they never fight. Almost to a point it’s annoying. 

Somehow without trying, she ends up in the middle of your relationship. Petty fights Ryder sometimes draws and then her input is somehow needed. Vanderson has the heart to dismiss herself and that only pisses Ryd off even more. All her anger amounts to a slammed front door; never failing to make you flinch. 

Today is just another example of how she unknowingly putting herself in the crossfire. 

What's even more embarrassing is this isn’t the most compromising phone call you’ve been in with Vi on the other end. You imagined what she was like as a child — rebellious, troublesome, and with a heart too big for her own good. Even though she does her best to disguise it under her senseless flirting.

Until hallucinations of her love materializes and you can’t endure the idea of her her heart fluttering in tandem with your own.

It’s all a facade. And you see right through her. You have to.

“I knew you would cover for her.” You puff out — you can’t leave and pound on their door and you certainly have way too much pride to even let Ryder think she has that much power over you.

It seems she thinks there’s already too much of a power dynamic hovering over you two. Some weighted blanket threatening to suffocate you both, the dead of night cursing your name on her tongue.

“M’not, princess. She won’t be back for a couple of hours.” 

“You are insufferable, Vanderson.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a breath as you try to muster up an ounce of patience. 

“Don’t talk dirty to me. You know what that does to me, princess.” 

Effortlessly, heat crawls from your chest and flutters on your cheeks and her smirk reaches into your candlelight room. “I do no—” 

“But you could find out.” The grin she’s no doubt sporting can be seen through the phone. You’re imagining the high raised eyebrow with the scar you wonder how she got, her picking at the hoop pierced through her nose, or how her calloused fingertips smooth over the gem on her eyebrow piercing when she’s slightly nervous. 

You blink yourself out of the pink-haired, lesbian induced daydream. 

“I love how quick you are to pick at the dead carcass of my relationship. Really V, it’s so flattering on you.” You’re about to hang up but she says something you’re not expecting. 

“Wait— I have an idea.” She takes a beat as you wait for her to finish. Stutters of heavy breath come through the speaker, a single moment is given to appreciate the hitch of her apprehension before she says your name.  

“Vanderson.” You repeat back to her. She laughs and for a moment you think it’s an alternate reality where this can happen.

“Look, I could withhold some information. Not tell her you called. But some advice? If you want her back, you have to play it cool. Act like you don’t give a fuck even when you do. Fuck another girl, go on a date at least, show her you’re not disposable.” 

“That’s exactly what she wants! I want her, V.” 

“Trust me. I know how Ryd works. If she sees you with someone else, she’s not going to be able to stomach it. Even if she hears about it, fuck, that shit would make me sick.” You want to ask why but you press your lips together in a fine line. “Ryd might think she wants this. She’ll crack as soon as she hears about you with someone else.” 

She’s kind enough to let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. Digest the information she gives but the more you think about it, the more terrifying it seems — talking to other women who aren’t Ryder. 

“You could be my someone else.” You say the words before thinking. Panicking in an instant, you end the call immediately too scorned to face her self-assured reaction. It would make you sick. 

Two seconds later there’s a buzz in your pocket. You have a feeling she must have ditched Ryder’s phone for her own. 

new message.  v: you’re going to need more practice if that’s how you react when you flirt with another girl.  ⤿ i wasn’t flirting. 

You want to scold the rise of heat in your cheeks. It’s out of bounds. Unexpectedly embarrassing. Riveting to your very core.

v: sure princess. it’s okay if you were. being a single woman and all. you’re allowed. maybe you should. just not with me. it could be good for you. to put yourself out there, it wouldn’t hurt. you could even get fucked by someone. live a little.  ⤿ but not by you? 

She takes longer to reply. You’ve struck a nerve you weren’t even aware existed. Even if you had stayed on the phone a moment longer, you wonder how she would have reacted. For the sake of dignity, you can’t help but conjure endless capabilities, wrapping around you in a kaleidoscope full of red-violets. 

v: not with me. she’s my roommate and teammate in case you’ve forgotten. someone though.  v: i’m sure you’ll find it easy. a horny woman won’t be that hard to find especially when you’re this beautiful. go to the lacrosse party after game. abby’s mansion on the hill. you’ll have a whole roster to choose from. win or lose, half of the team will need someone to fuck.  ⤿ good idea, v. thanks. 

She hearts the message. It should have been the end. Vi had given you solid advice to get your girl. The love of your life — it’s all you craved — but you feel a tug at your chest. Reading over the compliment like it’s sacred scripture. Until each letter is engraved in the depths of your mind. Creating a labyrinth you want to give her the guide for. 

The ground beneath you rings and rings and rings. It’s disastrous. You can’t escape her voice in the fortress of her smile. Taunting you with every last breath. 

Especially when you’re this beautiful. 

You take it as fact but the compliment seems more suited to the Vandersons of the world. Fluttering eyelashes making a joker out of a queen. Stealing hearts one ache at a time — ready to give the fatale finality of a deep cut.

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[hellishjoel]

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air. 

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.  You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M. 

Joel Miller. 

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes. 

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over. 

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension. 

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist. 

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor. 

Virgin. 

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings. 

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind. 

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit. 

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs. 

You shakily exhale as he warms you. 

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job. 

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck. 

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk. 

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it. 

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity. 

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity. 

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings. 

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur. 

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed. 

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless. 

“I think so.” 

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it. 

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time. 

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you. 

But thinking about him wasn’t enough. 

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin. 

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment. 

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him. 

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.” 

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care. 

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office. 

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office. 

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him. 

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning. 

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office. 

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression. 

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you. 

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.” 

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline. 

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.” 

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper. 

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence. 

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips. 

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip. 

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.” 

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong. 

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight. 

You’ve never seen a man so hungry. 

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils. 

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point. 

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind. 

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush. 

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words. 

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows. 

“You- what?” 

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk. 

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop. 

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine. 

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak. 

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin. 

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk. 

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along. 

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his. 

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs. 

“No, definitely not.” 

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”  

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.” 

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.” 

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk. 

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke. 

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties. 

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn. 

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it. 

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.” 

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look. 

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile. 

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does. 

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine. 

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking. 

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.  

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.” 

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back. 

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him. 

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again. 

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps. 

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs. 

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze. 

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are. 

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.” 

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it. 

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk. 

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants. 

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.  

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.” 

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes. 

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him. 

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one. 

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes. 

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him. 

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well. 

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards. 

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger. 

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey. 

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk. 

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.” 

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk,  dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him. 

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions. 

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you. 

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this. 

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss. 

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey. 

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.” 

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers. 

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance. 

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure. 

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously. 

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too. 

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head. 

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.  Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him. 

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.” 

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please. 

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth. 

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows. 

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth. 

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor. 

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw. 

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish. 

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you. 

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps. 

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth. 

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight. 

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy. 

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine. 

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does. 

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm. 

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance. 

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided. 

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like. 

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp. 

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights? 

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more. 

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good. 

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment. 

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently. 

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second. 

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him. 

Now you’re really aching for him,  wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria. 

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now. 

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips. 

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it. 

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside. 

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?” 

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him. 

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach. 

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips. 

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot. 

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared. 

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin. 

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve. 

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.  

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers. 

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern. 

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.” 

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit. 

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously. 

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him. 

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds. 

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine. 

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time. 

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing. 

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile. 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution. 

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases. 

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.” 

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls. 

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper. 

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you. 

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features. 

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body. 

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt. 

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full. 

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal. 

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. 

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.” 

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions. 

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear. 

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep. 

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to. 

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.  

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.” 

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off. 

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands. 

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction. 

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt. 

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more. 

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own. 

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions. 

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you. 

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest. 

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond. 

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison. 

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you? 

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name. 

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm. 

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.” 

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you. 

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light. 

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers. 

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven. 

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths. 

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves. 

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his. 

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp. 

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp. 

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you. 

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm. 

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom. 

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze. 

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any. 

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy. 

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces. 

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet. 

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.  

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. 

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile. 

“Or your tongue?” 

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug. 

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.” 

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers. 

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin. 

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already. 

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-” 

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water. 

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops. 

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk. 

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens. 

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle. 

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo. 

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.” 

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.” 

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients. 

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.  

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins. 

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.” 

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard. 

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.” 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution. 

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back. 

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process. 

Joel sighs. 

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this. 

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him? 

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him. 

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back. 

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.” 

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused. 

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.” 

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller. 

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title. 

The Obsidian Gallery 

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller. 

next chapter ->

[covetyou]

sweet as cherry wine

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con (power imbalance, reader was paying a debt), unprotected PIV, period sex, the joys of menstruation, fingering, derogatory names (slut), mentions of malnutrition/lack of food, positive weight gain, ghost of anal sex past and future, drug reference, asshole Joel, no use of y/n word count: 5.1k summary: a different kind of rude awakenin' than you were promised ruins your Sunday plans but, of course, you find yourself at the mercy of Joel Miller anyway.

A/N: she's here! another mini-kinktober SWAT series of oneshots for you to enjoy and for me to be horny about in theory, stressed about in practice. if you want spoilers, check out the SWAT masterlist for what's to come.

once again, please ignore the total and utter bastardisation and improper use of hozier lyrics. this one is particularly heinous but out of context I couldn't resist.

title from cherry wine by hozier

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You felt more alive these days. Whether it was the bright, cool days, the extra food you could suddenly afford to eat, or the regular fucking you got from Joel, you couldn't tell, but the world felt lighter and, at the very least, your father's bad days didn't feel so difficult to manage.

It was easy to forget that these things couldn't last - the cloud was incoming whether you liked it or not, and whether it was a short shower or a downpour, you were going to get wet.

It was a fact that became painfully apparent the very morning you had an appointment with Joel.

It wasn't a strict appointment, more an offhand comment that you planned on cashing in on. When a man like Joel fucks you from behind and taunts you with threats of fucking your ass again and you think fuck yes so hard the words spew out of your mouth as you babble into the sheets, what else is a girl to do. And when he makes doubly sure you heard him by kneading your ass as you ready yourself to leave and whispers in your ear the filthy things he wants to do to you, and if you want them to happen you should come over Sunday afternoon, it's basically a done deal.

"If you thought that was an ass fuckin' before," he had said, "You're in for a rude fuckin' awakenin', sweetheart."

By god did you want that rude awakening.

But, staring into your underwear that Sunday morning, the distantly familiar gnawing ache in your abdomen suddenly had a name, and there your plans went, flushed down the drain right alongside the first signs you'd seen of your fucking period in years.

You remembered the pain, but it'd been long enough that you'd forgotten about the other discomforts periods could bring. The hunger, the aches, the tender nipples and the throb in your head. Not to mention, the last thing you wanted was Joel anywhere near any of your holes, asshole definitely included.

With your plans ruined and an ache that was rapidly spreading to your back, you didn't bother leaving the house that day, or sending word to Joel that you wouldn't be coming. Your rude awakenin' would have to wait, and your dad would have to stretch his pills for a few more days.

Three days in, you can't wait any longer. Or rather, your dad can't. You still feel rotten, and though the pain and bleeding have eased off a little, you just want the sit in your apartment and eat - the very luxury that got you in this mess in the first place.

But, you're here instead. In front of Joel's door, hands clasped at your sides, berating yourself - and your father - for even needing to be here, when Joel pulls open the door with a scowl.

"This look like Sunday to you?" he grouches, the furrow between his brows deepening as he looks you up and down.

You try to ignore it. Just like you've tried to ignore the gnawing ache in your belly all week. But, despite yourself, you can't speak, can't bring mention to Sunday and your own disappointment, and instead reach a hand deep into your jacket pocket and pull out the small number of cards you'd agreed would cover your dad's meds.

"Just here for a refill."

Joel rolls his eyes, and when he pushes away from the door frame, he beckons you inside, pushing the door shut behind you the second you scurry through after him.

"The fuck is wrong with you," he says, slamming an old worn container onto the table a second later. "And don't say nothin', I can tell you ain't right. Seen dead bodies with more life in 'em."

It hadn't occurred to you that he'd know. That he'd see right through you and know that you'd spent the days since Sunday feeling shitty as you curled into yourself. It hadn't occured to you for a second that you might look different - probably just as shit as you felt - and that Joel, a man who never seemed to be put off by anything, might be put off by this. By you.

"You sick?"

You hadn't even noticed he'd stopped rummaging, hands now on his hips as he stares at you with what you could almost mistake for concern. It pulls at you, somewhere deep inside, and you find a need to scramble for the words to reassure him, to tell him you'd be okay in the vaguest terms, that you'd be back to normal next week, if he still wants to go ahead with Sunday, because by fuck do you want to.

But instead, just one word comes out of your mouth in a sudden burst much louder than you intended.

"Period."

Joel blinks. Once. Then twice. As if trying to work something out, or maybe he's disgusted that you bleed, or maybe he's relieved you aren't pregnant at all and the little procedure to keep his swimmers at bay was still effective.

"Y'ain't had one o' them before," he starts. "I mean, since..."

You want to tell him that maybe you have. Maybe you hid it - didn't want him to know - but you both know you're a shit liar.

"Guess eating works wonders," you joke instead, not missing the frown that tugs his brows down, or the way his eyes scan back over your body to settle on the jacket that fits more snug than it ever has, or the thighs that now fill out your jeans.

The entire time, he doesn't make a single move to grab your father's pills. You want to scream at him to hurry up and give them to you - the longer you're standing here, the longer your cunt has to throb and clench at the mere thought of him. For the first time all week, you're not sure the wet feeling between your legs is blood.

"Got everything's you need?" he asks, his eyes briefly flicking down to your belly then back up.

You do. You tell him as much, now keenly aware of the feeling of the cup sat securely inside you as he stares holes through your head, searching for the lie, before giving up and shrugging when he doesn't find one.

He starts rummaging in the small container again, pulling out a half used packet and gesturing to you with it. "You hurtin'?"

You shake your head, turning down his offer of free prescription meds to ease your aches and pains. "Not so much any more."

Joel slowly takes a step towards you, and your pussy pulses again, gripping the cup lodged inside you and making you wish it was something else entirely.

"Still up for fuckin' if you are."

Nothing can keep the scoff of disbelief from bubbling out of your chest. Not two seconds ago you thought that maybe he'd be put off by you, if not by how you looked, then by the mess between your legs.

"No way are you fucking my ass, Joel," you say through a laugh.

He shrugs, before moving closer and pulling open your jacket. "Never said that. A fuckin' is a fuckin', don't matter which hole. Could have you comin' on this cock and leavin' feelin' better than you have in days, if you want it."

"You got a magic dick or something?" You laugh again, though smaller this time as Joel stares down at you through dark lashes.

"Think you know the answer to that better than I do," Joel says, running his tongue along his teeth. "Doubt you been rubbin' that pretty thing between your legs too much these last few days, huh?"

He's not wrong - making yourself come has been the last thing in your mind lately. You spent most of your time Sunday scrambling to find your menstrual cup and learning how to use it all over again so you weren't free bleeding all over the place. Since then your days had been filled with torturously slow work days and hiding away in your room with a pillow cluched firmly to your stomach.

"Didn't think so."

In a blink, he's gone, moving away from you so quickly your head spins. He's pressing the lid firmly back onto the container, the loud clicking echoing around his apartment as he readies it to be stashed away. You look away as he turns from you - not wanting to see if it's hidden in the usual drawer or elsewhere in his home - and turn just in time for a threadbare towel to be thrown your way. It's worn, and stained, but soft and clean in your hands.

"Go get yourself cleaned up."

You gape at him. Mostly in disbelief that he would want to touch you at all right now, but a small part of you stares at his form - broad and strong - wanting desperately to leap on him right here with no mind paid to the thing currently lodged in your cunt, feral with the knowledge that he actually wants you.

"But what about the mess," you say feebly instead, grinding your knuckles into that soft part just below the pooch of your belly as a sudden ache - no doubt brought on by the fluttering in your cunt - takes hold of your womb.

He laughs then, low and throaty, before making his way back to you and gripping your chin between thumb and forefinger.

"Good job I like it when you're a mess for me, sweetheart."

You're gone in a flash - his deep chuckle the only thing you hear as you rush to the bathroom and close the door, stripping down as quickly as you can before hopping into his shower. The water is deliciously warm as it pelts your skin, a forgotten luxury that you wish you'd had two days ago at the worst of your aches. Still, you relish in it, and find yourself tentatively stepping out of the steamy room with the tattered towel wrapped around you and your cup cleaned and discarded on his bathroom sink far sooner than you'd like.

There's a soft yellow light beckoning you into Joel's bedroom as you pad your way across his floor. He's there, just beyond the doorway, laying another towel across faded sheets. His jeans are off and his sweater discarded, his bare, muscular legs flexing with each movement in the golden light as he puts together the space you're about to fall apart in.

"You gonna keep starin'," he says with a final flourish of the towel before giving it a gentle pat with his hand. "Or you gonna sit your ass down before you drip on my floor."

Rolling your eyes, you walk to the bed, Joel barely giving you space to maneouver by him, before doing as your told and sitting your ass down. There's already a soft lump forming in the front of his boxers when you cast your eyes up to him.

"Show me," he says, dragging a finger across your hand where you grip the towel to yourself, and in an instant it drops away from your body, falling into your lap and exposing your chest to him.

"Y'know, I thought they'd got bigger," he says, letting his finger trace from your hand to your palm and down to the soft swelling of your chest. "Bouncin' in my fuckin' face more than usual lately."

His broad hand encases your breast, gently holding but not squeezing as his fingertips caress your soft flesh. His thumb drags gently across your nipple, the sensitive bud of it tightening and sending a zing straight down through to your core. It should hardly come as a surprise to you - the soft fabric of your own t-shirts had been borderline painful in the days leading up to your unpleasant surprise. Still, it makes you gasp, a thing that Joel notices with a cocked eyebrow.

"Ass too," he continues, hands stroking softly at your tender nipple before crouching before you on creaking knees. "I'd fuck it any chance I'd get, but somethin' about it lately..."

Resting back on your palms, you look down at him beyond the swell of your breasts. He's gazing at them, watching as they heave with each breath you take. For good measure, you take in a deep sigh just to watch his eyes darken as they rise and fall right in front of his face.

"Show me," he says again, with a nod and, while his eyes never leave your tits as they sway in front of him, you know what he really means.

Part of you wants to clamp your legs together and hide from him. You want to ask him why - why ever, but mostly why now, when you're like this. But you don't.

Instead, you pull the towel away and let it fall from your thighs. For a second, you wonder if Joel has even noticed. He still seems entranced by the way your tits move. That, or he's somehow being polite - a weird thing to even consider given how very naked and very close to him you are right now.

Then, he flicks his eyes between your legs for a fraction of a second, before standing and pulling his shirt over his head in one smooth movement. The tent in his boxers is even more pronounced now, the trail of hair that slips beneath the waistband drawing your eye easily to the swelling bulge hidden beyond the fabric.

"Eyes up here, sweetheart," Joel says. "Think you can take it?"

He's stroking himself over the fabric now, you can see it in your periphery. His broad hand gently squeezing and rubbing the very thing you wish was in you.

Words lost, you nod. Then, his knee descends to one side of you, calloused hands pushing at your shoulders, and you're falling softly backward until you collide with the mattress, and the worn towel covering it.

The mattress gives way to your weight, dipping softly where you lay. Joel's over you, his massive frame cast in golden light from the lamp as he touches you more gently than you think he ever has. Your nipples pucker, his hands not even close to them as you arch into the touch of his rough palm across your side, your belly, your hip.

And then, he's dipping his fingers between your legs, not caring of the mess that might be there, and drags slick fingers through your folds until you're panting and writhing underneath him, legs spreading and hips rocking your pussy into his hand with each swipe of his wet fingers over your clit. You didn't notice how sensitive you were. The last few days you'd tried your hardest to ignore any sensation coming from your cunt that wasn't an alarming feeling of warm and wet. Now, while you were definitely warm and wet, you were practically electrified too, blood humming with need as Joel gently stroked at your pussy until you were begging him to make you come.

"I'm gonna, sweetheart," he growls. "Gonna make this needy pussy come all over my cock. Make a mess o' me."

You feel yourself flutter as his finger pushes lightly into your waiting hole. You're dripping, no telling really with what at this point, but you don't have it in you to care. He can have the mess he so desperately wants, as long as he makes you come and leaves you panting and bone tired right here on the mattress.

His face burrows into your neck, shrouding you in him while he sucks kisses down and onto your shoulder.

"Joel..." you moan, arching into him again when his finger plunges deep, gently curling forward while his palm grinds against your clit. You could make yourself come on him if he just kept like this. Except, you don't want to. You don't want to do the work. You want to lie here and take it, have him split you open on his cock and work you apart until you crumble underneath him.

He works another into you, shallow thrusts of the digits working you up and sliding easily through you. His thumb finds your clit, swiping messily over it until you twitch and grip his arm, forcing his palm flat against you so you can grind and grind against him. But he stills - the soft kisses he was peppering with you having reached the jiggle of your tits - and looks aup at you with a quirk to his brow.

"Beg me for it," he whispers, pulling his sopping fingers out of you and wiping them on the towel between your legs. "Not gonna fuck you until you do."

Your desperation cuts through the anger that flares in your belly. You were close when he pulled away, his hand now simply teasing the sensitive skin of your thigh. You were so close your cunt was throbbing, sending small aches up through you. Whether they were from him, and the relief he so quickly took from you, or the making of your own body, you couldn't even tell, but you had a sneaking suspicion they were working together to fuck you over. They always did.

"Fuck me, Joel. Please."

Joel is already settling between your thighs, boxers yanked down his legs and cock springing free, by the time you even finish asking. He presses forward, letting his cock slip against you as his mouth hungrily finds your nipple, sucking and making you gasp. A sudden sob wrestles its way out of your chest while he grinds against you, your clit twitching against the slip and slide of his length, your hands finding his arms to steady you. He's solid, and steady above you, while you quake and writhe beneath him - always the picture of fucking composure, even with his cock heavy and dripping between your legs.

He rears back then, completely naked before you, the shadow between his legs ignored as you make a point to stare up at him, his own eyes favoring the mess between your legs rather than your face. His fingers find your thighs again, spreading them, holding them, before lining himself up with your entrance.

As he presses his tip into you, there's something glaringly obvious, and different, that you notice.

He's being gentle with you. Sort of.

And you're not entirely sure you like it. A very big part of you wants him to say fuck it and pound into you, fucking the pain out of your mind to leave you moaning and boneless and far too messy to comprehend. Unfortunately, you're definitely sure that'd hurt much more than it'd actually be enjoyable, and you hate that Joel and his animal brain have understood that before you and yours.

He catches your frown before you do, and rolls his eyes at you with a gentle squeeze to your thighs. His cock is still slipping gently in and out of you, just pushing in past the head, careful not to go too deep too quickly as he spreads you apart to take him.

"I ain't a fuckin' animal. I know when a pussy's gotta be treated sweet and nice and when it needs to be fucked hard."

You really do try not to pout, but the slow drag of him suddenly doesn't feel like enough and it's all you can do not to cross your arms and glare at him. "What if I don't want sweet and nice?"

"Yeah, you do," he whispers, so sure of himself you want to fucking slap him. If his hands weren't so distracting as they slide up and down your thighs, gently massaging away any ache in tandem with his cock in your cunt, you probably would reach up and give a smack to that beautiful fucking face of his. "And even if you think you don't, she does, and, unlucky for you, I ain't listenin' to you right now."

The moment he starts talking about your cunt, his brings his thumb down to gently tease along your lips where he splits you open, drawing a slick combination of your own blood and arousal up to your clit where he swirls it around.

And, traitorous bitch that she is, your pussy throbs in approval, as if to say yes, yes we want sweet and nice, and you know you've lost the battle. Where Joel was concerned, you were a slave to your pussy - it wasn't even a point worth contending at this point, and you're not sure you ever would've fought to hard against it anyway.

So, you nod, slipping your eyes closed as he fucks himself deeper and deeper into you. In an odd way it does feel like a massage - the stiff length of him pushing in past the tense grip of your cunt until you're putty right there on the bed, a leaking, dripping, groaning mess, all of Joel Miller's making. He never bottoms out. Never once hammers home. Never once takes your soft pleas and moans as direction to go faster, harder, even though part of you still wants him to.

You just lie there, soft and pliant against the sheets, taking the steady slip of him in your needy hole until your brain turns to soup in your head.

"Kiss me," you mumble through another moan when his hands drag up your body to swip rough fingers over your nipples again. "Joel, kiss me."

Your legs push back as he falls forward, the sudden movement pushing him deeper and making you gasp. He stops for a moment, searching your eyes as they fly open, pupils blown in the lowlight of his bedroom. He rocks tentatively, at first, before beginning the slow slide in and out of you all over again, until your head thuds back against the mattress.

You'd thought he'd undone you before. Right in this room. You'd thought his fist in you had ruined you, his cock in your ass, his hand in your hair. So many things before now should have torn you apart, but none of that had prepared you for this. The soft, sweet, dirty way Joel Miller fucked all the aches and pains out of you right on his tired mattress.

Through it all, you almost forget you'd asked him to kiss you until his mouth finds yours, and you excitedly accept the pressure of his lips. You'd be embarrassed by it, and by the giddiness in your head as he nips and sucks at your mouth, if you hadn't long lost that feeling around him.

"Forget how much of a slut for kisses you are," he mumbles when he pulls away. "Slut for everythin'."

A weak protest forms in your throat, but his hips jerk forward and silence you with a moan instead.

"No denyin' it. Ain't met many who wanna be split open on this dick when they're on the rag," he's grinning into your shoulder as he taunts you, biting and sucking soft bruises you'll worry about later you as he grinds deeper in you now. "Startin' to think you're some kind of masochist."

You can feel his smile against your skin - a sign he already knows by now that that's more than true. Even so, like most things with Joel, this wasn't something you'd even considered before, let alone considered you might enjoy, until he did it. There's an ache as he stretches you, sure. And an ache in your belly too. And, somehow, one is soothing the other, the grip you have around his cock distracting you from any other feeling in your body as he slides through the mess between the two of you, bringing you close to a euphoria that feels deeper in your belly than it ever has.

He notices the change before you do. Your soft, contented moans turn into deep yearning cries as he grinds his cock deep, heavy balls sitting wetly against your ass as your slicked up hole seems to draw him in further and further. His fingers push between you, the slip of sweat, and blood, and your own slick easing his digits between your bodies until he finds your clit again.

With a soft movement, he jerks it between two fingers, watching and listening as you whine pathetically, eyes pressed so tight you see stars. A quick slip lower, feeling the sticky slip of you around his cock that has the telltale feel of your arousal and not blood, he moves back up and begins swiping his finger over your swollen clit in earnest.

Your clit twitches and pulses beneath his finger, your cunt fluttering around his solid length as it slowly presses into you, barely moving, just watching as you become exactly the kind of mess you feel.

It aches, and it hurts, and it feels so fucking good that you sob out a cry, a moan, a garbled plea, all at once as you come, shaking into the deep arch of your back as he fucks slowly and slowly and slowly, his fingers sliping endlessly against your clit, jerking the nub until you can do nothing but let out a deep, breathy, scream.

"That's it," he groans, his own cock throbbing in you as you pulsate around him. "Messy fuckin' girl. Come on it. Come all over it."

"Please," you gasp stupidly, not knowing what you're begging for, the height of your orgasm coming crashing down as it suddenly all feels too much. "Please."

While you don't know what you're begging for, it seems like Joel does. One moment his hand is between you, and the next it's rubbing against the towel before gripping gently at your shoulder, holding you steadily underneath him as you shudder and gasp.

And then, like reading your deepest wishes straight from your mind, he starts rocking in shallow thrusts - unsatisfying on their own, but paired with the filth from his mouth, it sends you close to the edge all over again.

"There we go," he moans in your ear, breathy and desperate as you. "S'all you needed."

You're starting to think Joel Miller's cock maybe is all you need - for some people it's love, or riches, but for you, at least in this moment, the heavy length impaling you and curing all your ailments is all you need. For now, at least.

He's wrecking himself with it all too, you notice. The way the pressure of his hands on your body increases and releases over and over as he fights with himself to be gentle as he fucks you to his own release isn't helped by the way his mind is racing, his mouth barely keeping up with whatever filth is rattling around in his mind.

"Gonna take it. Gonna dump my load right in this messy fuckin' hole. Y'gonna be fillin' up that fuckin' cup with my cum after this. Gonna be spillin' outta you. Needy - fuckin' - slut."

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes," you babble, holding onto his arms through his gentle thrusts, your cunt threatening an orgasm even as a new ache settles back into your core.

"Like bein' a slut for me?" he gasps. "Like bein' mine?"

"Yeah. Yours. Please, Joel. Fuck."

"Tell me. Tell me s'mine."

"It's yours. Your hole. I'm your needy - fuck - hole!"

"Damn fuckin' right you're my needy fuck hole. Fuck. Shit. You want this?"

And god you do. You want more besides, but right now you'll take it, on the brink of coming as the rough thatch of hair at the base of his cock grinds relentlessly into your clit.

"Said, do you want this."

His shallow thrusts speed up, and you just about have time to gasp out a yes before you're twitching and coming hard around his cock again. He follows soon behind, gasped curses bitten into your shoulder as your hands slip against his sweat soaked sides, filling your cunt with thick ropes of cum, thanking him in mindless chants as you feel each pulse of his cock fill you more and more.

You're limp and just about as lifeless as he said you looked when he first opened the door. You don't care. You feel more relaxed than you have all week, the pain completely gone as a warm floaty feeling courses through your veins.

Joel pulls out, asking if you're all good and accepting the wobble of your head as a yes, before wiping his cock with the towel and using it to gently wipe at your thighs.

There's not as much mess as you expected, as you look down. You expected carnage - a bloodbath - but there's nothing more than a soft streak of red on the towel when he pulls it away and tosses it into the corner.

He flops heavily next to you, pulling part of the towel you're laying on over your body in a vague attempt to keep you warm as you both come down. The chill in the room had been kept at bay until now, mostly thanks to Joel's body heating yours from the inside out. Now, sweat dries on both of your bodies, and you find yourself shifting closer to his warmth to stave off the cold.

"Y'think these gonna be a regular thing now?" he asks as he tugs part of his bedsheet over himself.

You shrug, offering up your uncertainty. It had been years since your last - your fathers declining health and your subsequent lack of good meals had seen to that. There was no telling if there'd be any regularity to them and, if you were being honest, you didn't want to see one again for a very long time.

He's silent for a second, thoughtful features pinching in the warm light of his bedroom before he speaks again.

"Alright. How 'bout I give you that ass fuckin' in a couple weeks, then?"

It's not exactly what you expected. You'd almost forgotten about it yourself. But, now, as he pins a new date for your promised rude awakenin' you find yourself ready to pout again, this time at the idea of having to wait two more weeks.

"Two weeks? I'll probably be finished with this by the end of the week. I can come over Sunday, or in the week or -"

"I know," he says simply. "Like the idea of you bein' like a bitch in heat and me fuckin' a load into your ass when your cunt is so desperate for it, though."

Anything you were going to say is totally lost in an instant, your jaw flapping on its hinges as you try and fail to find the words that were just on the tip of your tongue. Any protest, question, or suggestion, is gone and, you realize, replaced with one thing, and one thing only.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

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[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Six

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s been part of your daily life for years. She’s been your partner; your future. You try to find a way to let go without losing her altogether.

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: Rest of the series is here.

You sighed heavily as you stared up at the darkened ceiling of your new apartment. It had been a busy week of unpacking, cleaning, getting settled and sorted. The days had been so full on between work and the move that most nights you more or less collapsed into bed in sheer exhaustion.

Even then though, the stillness and quiet of your new apartment weighed on you. The unfamiliarity - the loneliness - of your current living arrangement caused your insides to twist incessantly and sleep eluded you.

You'd hoped that the weeks you and Jessie lived together while broken up would've dulled the harshness of this transition, but it seems that had been a foolish thought.

You absently and habitually played with your ring finger, dull realization setting in yet again that your ring - Jessie's - was long gone. She'd wanted you to keep it; adamantly so, but you forced her to take it back.

Hardly realizing it, you hand palmed your nightstand and you retrieved your phone.

1:45 am.

You released another restless sigh and automatically opened up your conversation with Jessie.

"This might be a record for me. I just finished a whole season of Alone in one night. At this point I feel like I could compete on the next season."

You couldn't help but chuckle faintly. She'd texted you that an hour ago - clearly she was having trouble sleeping as well.

You two may have been broken up, but you were still talking daily.

You still weren't sure you could be her friend or even if you wanted to be, but to go from being so deeply connected with someone, to live with them for years, to sleep next to them nearly every night, your lives, moments and dreams, entwined, from seeing reminders and tokens of them throughout your entire home, to none at all, it was even harder than you'd anticipated.

Being so busy and preoccupied helped keep it minimal during the days, but at night? You both seemed to gravitate to one another despite your situation.

Your cheeks puffed out in a weary exhale. A voice in the back of your head told you to close the conversation, your phone, do anything else, but instead you texted her.

"I bet you'd do very well on that show. I can actually picture it lol. Me? Not so much. Besides, beats the trash I've been watching."

You immediately closed out of the conversation the second you sent it as if that'd somehow erase your wrongdoing.

You'd barely opened up a different app when a notification from her came through. You may have stopped going to her games - watching them in any sense, it was just too painful - but you still knew her training schedule. She'd have to be up in a few short hours. She really must be having trouble sleeping, too.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're resourceful and smart. You'd do just fine. And I definitely want to know what so-called trash you've been watching."

"You don't. Believe me. It's bad."

You hesitated before sending a hurried follow-up.

"Consider yourself lucky that you're not being subjected to it"

You saw the text bubbles pop up for a couple of seconds before disappearing. You stared at the screen for several moments, pulse starting to quicken and only increasing further as she started typing anew.

"I definitely wouldn't say that."

You saw a false-start of a new message from her again and you waited. When it seemed like she thought better than to send through anything more, she added:

"I'd love to be together watching some shitty tv show. I'd give anything for that."

Your eyes snapped up to the ceiling with a shaky breath as you pushed the back of your head deeper into the pillow. They fell shut as a rush of emotions came over you. A deep frown was etched on your forehead as you tried to get your feelings back under control.

Your phone buzzed in your hand.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Another weary sigh escaped you. You hated this.

"Don't be."

"I want the same. And it fucking sucks."

"The days are hard. Horrible. But the nights are unbearable."

"I wake up looking for you. Assuming I ever actually fall asleep."

Your chest expanded with another shaky breath.

"I know the feeling."

You rubbed your eyes in agitation before hurriedly writing another message.

"I miss you."

Your shoulders fell as soon as you sent it. You were weak. So weak.

Your breath hitched as your screen lit up with a call from her. You stared at it as your phone continued to buzz in your hand. Your lips were parted as your breathing grew quick and shallow.

You answered.

"Hello?"

A beat passed and her voice filtered into your ear.

"Hey."

Your eyes fell shut and you felt your throat tighten with emotion immediately. You subconsciously leaned your head into the phone and towards her voice as a swirling mix of comfort and longing swept over you.

"I-" She paused as she gathered her words, "I just thought I should call you," she finished quietly; apologetically even.

"I miss you too," she whispered, but even through the tinny quality of the phone, you could hear her emotion. "So much."

You took a steadying breath as you looked up at the ceiling.

"I hate this," you said, voice growing hoarse.

"I know, baby. Me too," she said softly, the pet name causing your lip to nearly quiver and your eyes to sting with tears. You didn't say anything and she carried on longingly. "I wish I was with you right now."

Another shuddering breath escaped you as you covered your eyes with your free hand.

"God, Jess," you managed to say, your voice pleading for so many things. You sighed in defeat and rubbed harshly at your face. "You have no idea how much I want that too."

You heard a quick sigh on her end.

"I'd come over in a heartbeat if you wanted me to," she said.

You didn't say 'no'. You didn't say anything at all.

"I-I could be there in, like, 20."

"Jess...," you said, both in want and warning.

"I'm coming over," she declared gently and you heard rustling on her end of the call.

You listened wordlessly for several moments and could hear her moving about and gathering up her things.

"You shouldn't. We shouldn't," you said weakly and with little conviction. By the jingle of her keys, it seemed you weren't fooling her either.

"I'll stay on the line," she told you unwaveringly.

Her effort and longing for you validated an ache and hollow in you. You wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you. You wanted her to speak declarations of love and devotion in your ear that would make everything else go away.

You heard the elevator ding.

Your eyes opened and you let your hand fall from your face to your side. Her wanting you, her loving you, wasn't the issue. Falling asleep in her arms wasn't going to fix anything - it hadn't all of those nights before.

You were hurting yourself, and her.

"Jess."

She didn't reply.

"Jess. Stop," you told her with quiet authority. "We can't do this. You know we can't."

"Y/N..."

"Jessie. I love you so much. But, we can't do this," you said regretfully, though with no room to debate it. "Please turn around. Please go back upstairs," you instructed gently.

The line was quiet for several seconds.

"Okay," she accepted, the disappointment in her voice still detectable. "I'm sorry," she added meekly.

The elevator dinged again and soon you heard her keys in the lock of your old front door.

"I can't sleep without you," she said, her voice breaking with emotion. She sniffled. "I don't know how to do this," she went on, voice high and tight.

You stifled a sob at hearing this woman who, to most, was reserved and kept her emotions close to her chest, expressing such hurt and vulnerability with you.

When you spoke, your voice was tight and you blinked through tears.

"Me neither."

--------

The very next morning you booked a trip home to London. Surely, going home - seeing your family and old friends - would cure you and provide comfort and relief.

While it was lovely - and needed - to see them all again, something about it didn't feel the same as it did before. You also lamented the fact that you couldn't catch up with Niamh or Sam or any of the Chelsea crew. You loved them, but they were Jessie's friends.

And despite your efforts, you couldn't help but hone in on - even over here - families and kids everywhere. It's like your subconscious was hyperfocused. Waves of loss came over you, but you also had flickers of thoughts about what it could've been like to bring Zoie here with Jessie.

Any time the notion broached your mind though, you were quick to banish it.

After a couple of weeks you actually felt a bit antsy and unsettled. You desperately wanted to feel safety and comfort and familiarity here, but it just didn't feel right. It wasn't what you were looking for.

What was that saying? 'You can never go home again'? It resounded in your mind because it felt painfully true.

Truth was, you enjoyed your career in Portland, you liked the lifestyle, the weather, and though you loved your old friends, you missed your new ones too. Beyond Jessie, there were reasons you were open to moving; leaving your home. So even if it looked different now, you still liked the life you'd built in Portland; maybe more than you realized.

Maybe someday you’d reflect on this and realize something else was fueling this decision - maybe pride, maybe plain old stubbornness - but some deep seated part of you felt you needed to see things out in Portland. You didn't want to run away.

So though you didn't feel overly content in either place right now, you felt strangely ready to go back.

The hardest part about coming back might've actually been that you had less distractions from Jessie's texts. When you were away, it was easier to disconnect and you started to put more emotional space between you two.

When you got there, she was still texting you daily - a good morning text with wishes of a good day, an inquiry or two about your day, a good night text, and the odd text in between with a picture or comment about things that must've reminded her of you.

As your responses slowed, Jessie adjusted slightly, but was undeterred in many ways. She still at least wished you a good day every day. If she was put off by your delay, she didn't show it because she responded promptly if she wasn't training or at a game. She even asked on a couple of occasions - when you were more responsive than other times - if you'd be interested in grabbing coffee or lunch together. As friends of course.

Now that you were back and in your routine again, it was harder to resist picking up your phone and texting her back.

It was hard, so hard, talking with her and trying to walk this line of friendship. It felt so unnatural to politely inquire about one another's day but not come home to each other, to not make plans together, or think of things as 'we' or 'us'.

You wanted to know about her life - what was she up to, what things were new, what things were the same - but it made your chest tight every time. It was so stupid and frustrating, you'd initiated this, you wanted her to live her life and for you to live yours, but it still hurt to be nothing more than a peripheral observer these days.

This couldn't be how it was meant to be.

"What are you up to this weekend?"

"If you have some time and you're open to it, maybe we could meet for coffee?"

You pressed your lips together tersely as you contemplated your response. You scrolled up through your conversation with her.

It was friendly enough, but neither of you were being truly open and honest as you texted back and forth. You were both just treading water - and for what?

You took a deep breath and replied.

"Sure. We can meet for a bit. When?"

You could've said more. But what you needed to say to her you wanted to say in person. It seemed the decent thing to do, but you'd be lying if you didn't admit that you also just wanted to see her - maybe one last time.

----------

When you rounded the corner to the coffee shop you spotted Jessie right away, standing there waiting. She anxiously gnawed at the corner of her thumb while restlessly shifting from foot to foot and scrolling on her phone.

You were readying yourself to greet her when her head snapped up, somehow picking out your steps amongst all the others that crossed back and forth in this area.

You hadn't seen her since the night she helped you move in. Your pulse was already pounding loudly in your head before you saw her, but now it quickened further and it took very conscious effort to keep your breathing controlled.

Her posture immediately straightened and she dropped her hands stiffly to her sides, almost standing at attention as you approached. A warm smile tentatively crossed her face. She went to take a step towards you, arms coming out slightly telegraphing a hug, but hesitated and remained rooted to her spot instead.

"Hi," she greeted, quieting her smile in an effort to seem casual. She looked you up and down quickly and said, "You look good." She immediately averted her gaze and began blushing. She squeezed her eyes shut and gave a single shake of her head. "Sorry. I, um, I don't know why I said that. It seemed like the polite thing to do - not that I don't think you look good! But like, not in a disrespectful or inappropriate way. I-"

"It's fine," you cut her off with a faint laugh and offering her a reassuring smile. You smirked. "You look good too. And 'hi'."

She gave you a grateful smile, shoulders relaxing at your reprieve before she stood confidently once more and offered a smile that seemed more natural, easy.

"Wanna head inside?" She asked as she gestured to the doors with her thumb. You nodded and she opened the door, standing aside for you as she held it. "What can I get you?" She asked next.

"Jess," you chided as you gave her a look. She chuckled and shrugged.

"Come on. It's coffee," she said pointedly.

You wanted to make a flirty crack about how that's how it always starts; it did for you two. You gave her your order instead and she looked so pleased that it hurt your heart.

"There's a table over there," Jessie noted as she nodded towards the other side of the shop when you both had your drinks in hand.

It was tempting. In this moment it would be so easy to sit down in this cozy cafe, chat the afternoon away and fall back into old habits. Being with her in person was like a jolt to your system. Even your memories didn't do justice to how easy it was to want her; love her.

"Actually," you interjected, some of your apprehension returning, "I was hoping we could go for a walk."

"Okay," she agreed easily. "Sounds great."

Again, she trotted a few steps ahead to open the door for you. You offered a tight smile as you stepped through.

You breathed easier as soon as you were outside.

You eased in. Asked her how she was, how were things. How was Zoie.

She lit up. The look of gratitude she gave you over the question made you feel guilty for how taboo you'd apparently made mention of her.

"She's doing well. Really well. She's in summer camps and loving it. She's really taken to anything science related, which, you know, I think is great."

She quieted and became aware of how you were watching her. Zoie really did brighten up her life and brought her so much joy. Maybe it was because of the distance or time passed, but it felt easier to just appreciate this. It still ached, but it was duller. It was countered with a warmth in your chest at seeing Jessie like this and imagining the happiness on Zoie's face at how much more love was in her life now.

Jessie took a sip of her drink and gave you a cursory glance before she cleared her throat.

"She asks about you," she said, pausing as if she was testing the waters. "She misses you."

You gave her a fleeting smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"She's really sweet," you said. "I miss her too." Now you cleared your throat, offering her a small smile. "And no surprise she's into science," you gave a faint, forced laugh. "That's great. We need more girls in STEM," you added with another chuckle in hopes of diffusing any mounting tension.

Jessie chuckled and soon started inquiring about your life.

"Yeah, I'm good," you answered simply. There was really no good or easy way to transition into this. Might as well dive in.

"Um, I, uh, actually agreed to meet with you because, I...," you trailed off, your eyes shifting to a low wall at the edge of the walking path you were on. You nodded towards it, "Let's sit down."

"Oh," Jessie commented, her tone dropping before she offered a breathy laugh. "One of these talks, huh?" She joked half-heartedly though she complied and took a seat on the ledge. Her shoulders her hunched over as she held her coffee tightly in both hands while her eyes stared distractedly at the ground.

You took a seat a few inches from her and she looked up at you, a worried frown etched across her forehead already. You gave her a small smile as if that would somehow soothe her.

"Um," you started again as you determinedly picked at the sleeve of your cup. You wracked your mind for the script you'd practiced over and over in your head, but the words were a jumbled mess in this moment.

You let out a nervous laugh and somehow you felt a calming presence coming from her. You turned your head to look at her, now her being the one to offer you a small smile of reassurance despite the sadness growing in her eyes.

"It's okay," she said gently. "Take your time. And say what you need to." Her head dipped slightly, but she maintained her smile.

You blew out a breath, gaze shifting to the sky as you felt tears starting to burn behind your eyes already.

"Shit," you laughed as you tried to suppress the tightness that was forming in your throat.

"It's okay," she repeated.

She was kind. And sweet. And generous. And you loved her so. Your instinct was to lean into her, seek her embrace. In this moment as you looked at her, it was so clear that you would never not want that from her. That you'd be satisfied with less.

"Some people aren't meant to be friends," you lamented as your gaze fell to the ground.

"S-sorry?"

You gave her a regretful look.

"It's been over a month since I moved out. Two since we broke up," you said in near exasperation, "and I don't miss you any less."

You caught the flash of hope in her eyes snuff out the sadness that had been there moments before. It pushed you to get on with it. You'd been dragging things on long enough.

"I've been trying to find a way to be your friend. To stay in each other's lives. Find some way to hold on. But I just can't do it," you said with measured certainty. You voice dropped to just above a whisper, as it would lessen the weight of your words. "We can't be friends, Jess." You felt her eyes on you. "And we can't be more, so..."

You turned to her with a steadying breath.

“Since I met you, there’s been this undeniable, innate desire to get closer. Always wanting more with you. So now needing to do the opposite? It’s been brutal. And so unnatural.

"It's too hard. Hearing from you, talking with you and just orbiting around the edge of your life. One foot in, one foot out. I don't know how to be your friend, and I don't know deep down if I really want to be. How can I know and experience what we had together and just pretend that a fraction of that is enough? I can't picture my feelings for you being anything less than romantic. Anything less than love-of-my-life."

You saw her face fall and it caused a mirrored reaction in you.

"I can't build a new life with you around. Even if it's just in texts," you said sorrowfully. "I can't keep sitting around, distracting myself until the next notification from you. Mapping out how to respond. When. It's - it's too much. I need for us to be apart - truly apart, to move on." Your throat felt dry. "I hope you understand."

Jessie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears and with the way her shoulders rounded and had her hands tucked between her knees she looked so defeated.

She didn’t speak for several seconds and eventually her shoulders fell further with an empty sigh.

“I’m sorry I’ve made things harder,” she said.

“You-”

“I can text less,” she sat up as she offered it hopefully. She saw the silent sigh you released and her posture fell once more and she ran a hand through her hair. “I understand,” she offered, voice thin.

She wiped at her nose quickly and let out a shuddering sigh as she sat back.

“It’s been hard for me too. I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to know you’ve been pulling away. And of course it makes sense. We’re supposed to. I just-,” she laughed feebly with a cursory glance, “I don’t want to lose you. Completely.”

Her gaze fell and she reached out to gently grasp your hand, her thumb delicately grazing your skin. Your features immediately flickered with emotions, as did hers - you didn’t pull away though, instead relishing this moment.

“I can’t think of you as anything less either,” she admitted in a low voice. She took a deep breath and looked up at you, a couple of tears now staining her cheeks. “Is…this goodbye? Will I ever get to talk to you again?”

You couldn’t will yourself to close things so unequivocally.

You caressed the back of her hand much the way she did yours.

“I’m still here. I don’t want to pretend that you don’t exist and I don’t want you to have to do that either. But keeping up with each other doesn’t work either. Trying to stay active in each other’s lives isn’t sustainable. I want to respect what we had, and I think leaving things as they were, not trying to drag this out or turn it into something we’re not meant to be…I think that’s the best way we can do that.

“You know I think the world of you. But we can’t be friends.”

You gave a pained laugh. “At the same time, the thought of never hearing from you again…” You gave a weak shake of your head. “I can’t bear that either. I’m sure there’s the odd thing where it makes sense that we can reach out. But nothing - consistent? I guess?” You sighed listlessly. “I don’t know. I know that doesn’t give you clarity. But I don’t know how else to define things.”

She gave a series of slow nods and eventually gave your hand a gentle squeeze. She mustered up a smile for you.

“I think I understand,” she said softly.

You two sat together in silence. She squeezed your hand again and you found yourself moving in, resting your head on her shoulder. Her arm immediately came up around you and she hugged you to her side as she laid a lingering kiss atop your head.

You sat there for several minutes together, taking this moment and each other in.

Eventually, you disengaged, immediately feeling cold outside of her embrace. You two walked back to where you started and stood before one another.

“If you ever need anything, don’t ever hesitate,” Jessie said. You nodded.

“Same,” you reciprocated though your thoughts swirled with insecurity - she didn’t need you like you needed her. You pushed them aside.

“I love you,” Jessie said with a broken smile and a wavering voice. She blinked back tears again and tried to laugh. “Had to say it just one more time.”

“I love you, too.” Your gaze fell briefly as you choked up. “I don’t regret any of it. I’m so grateful for everything we had and to be loved by you.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “Being with you has been the best part of my life.”

Jessie’s face collapsed with emotion. “I’m always going to be yours, you know. Regardless. You made me love and feel loved in a way I didn’t know was possible. I-” She paused with a slow shake of her head and a heartbroken smile pulling at her lips. “Words aren’t enough.”

Moments passed as you held each other’s gaze.

You had no idea a heart could break so deeply so many times.

“Bye, Jess.”

——————

A/N: I’m sorry. I know this isn’t any happier. Please be patient…!

A/Nx2: Life has been rough for me today. Being able to share this chapter with you is a highlight for me though. So thank you so much for the interest and support. It’s making me weepy today 😭

Tag requests: @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[imjustdreamingig]

If you want forever, and I'll bet you do

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: Feelings are out, you're still rambling, and Steve thinks you're wonderful.

A/N: when the world thought i abandoned them, i came back... HORRAY!!!! so this is probably my last instalment to this little series, what a joy it has been to write. i'm really proud of this one and am so excited to see how I'll continue to progress in my writing journey. thank you for all the love the last 3 fics got, you have no idea how much my hear soared when I got a notif from this site. i adore you all. pls lmk if you have any suggestions for future fics!

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, making out

You don't think your posture has ever been better than right now, sitting in Steve Harrington's living room, hands firmly clasped and placed in your lap. Your eyes quickly scan the beige colored walls, noting the lack of family pictures. In fact, the decor of the entire living room seemed to be more staged than personal, almost as if wanting to give the illusion that this was indeed a home, but not quite hitting the mark.

Steve walks back in from the kitchen carrying two glasses of water and places them on the table in front of you. As he's about to take a seat beside you, he lets out a shocked gasp before hurrying to the cabinet next to the window, pulling out two coasters.

He chuckles nervously as you eye him contemplatively. "My mom is a real stickler for these," he says after he sits back down, running an anxious hand through his hair. "She'll notice the rings the water make the second she walks through the door."

You let out a hum in acknowledgment, not quite sure how to continue the conversation without making him more tense. You notice his shoulders are sort of hunched in, and he's running a hand through his hair again.

Without thinking, you reach out to grab his wrist, pulling it away from his brown locks. Steve looks at you in surprise, mouth slightly parted.

"You're going to ruin your hair even more and I know for a fact you spent at least half and hour on it this morning," you say, reaching out to fix a piece that has fallen into his eyes. Steve laughs, "Hey, I'll neither confirm or deny."

You feel yourself becoming a bit more relaxed with the friendly environment that Steve's presence brings, slowly sinking into the couch rather than sitting as if the Queen of England was going to walk in at any second. That's the vibe you were getting from his house; meticulously clean to the point you almost questioned Steve if someone actually lived here.

When Steve picked you up earlier, you surprised yourself by not feeling those intense fight-or-flight instincts as you watched him run up to your front door.

Aside from accidentally making fun of his music taste on the car ride over, "Of all people Steve, I did not expect you to like Blondie." "What!? They're great!" and you hitting him with the car door as you opened it because he wanted to open it for you, "Your face! I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you there!" "You barely touched me I swear, I just wanted to be nice!" you waited for the usual rush of anxiety to fill you whenever you were near Steve.

You waited for it to appear during the car ride, you waited for it to appear as you walked into his house, and you're waiting for it to appear now.

It didn't.

That doesn't mean that you're not nervous, but it's more of an excited-nervous. The kind of nervous you felt before doing a big presentation in front of your class or performing in the school play. Steve knows how you feel about him and you know how he feels about you, there's no reason to be nervous around him anymore.

Now it's all about what's next. And because you think you can predict the outcome of this study/talk-it-out session, you feel a a flutter of emotions overtake your body, but instead of causing you anxiety, it's causing you excitement.

However.

You absolutely were not going to be the one out of the two of you to address the elephant in the room (aka the reciprocated crush thing). If Steve wanted to talk about it, he would have to start that conversation. Steve was eager to talk about it yesterday, so he should be eager to talk about it right now... Right?

"Listen, I would say we should get to work on the project, but I don't think that's gonna happen today," the boy in question says.

You direct your gaze to your bag thats on the floor and eye your copy of Pride and Prejudice before glancing up to look at Steve, who was already staring at you. He looked so at ease, one elbow leaned against the couch cushion with his fist pressed against his cheek.

He is so pretty.

You turn on the couch to face him and match his pose before saying, "I don't think so either." You didn't realize until this moment how close the two of you were sitting.

Steve says nothing for a moment as he just stares. You note this is the first time in a while that you're not blabbering nonsense at the boy, you usually talk a lot. Steve notices it, too.

"You know, I never took you to be a quiet person," he comments. "I'm usually not," you respond, "I just feel— I don't know, for once I don't feel like talking, I don't feel the need to fill the silence."

"Woah, who knew you could be so poetic." You lightly smack his leg as he teases you. "Oh, shut up, Harrington!" Steve's laughter subsides quickly and he peers down at your hand that's still on his leg. He swallows down the lump in his throat before picking it up, slowly caressing your knuckles with his thumb.

"You make me so nervous, did you know that?" he whispers before looking up at you again. You feel your cheeks heat up even though you know no color is showing on your face. The look that he's giving you is one that you've never seen before, and you've spent too much time of your time staring at him according to Robin.

"I've made the Steve 'the Hair' Harrington nervous? Wait 'till the girls hear about this." You try to lighten the mood a little, but Steve barely cracks a smile, getting a mere tiny lift of the corner of his mouth in response. His thumb never stop caressing your hand.

"I hope that isn't how you see me, at least not now." You shake your head, "Of course not, I'm sorry, not really sure why I pulled that joke right now." Steve shakes his head fondly and wags a finger at you. "You're something else, you're so different. I can never tell what you're thinking." You blink twice. "Uh, is that a bad thing?" you question.

"Absolutely not!" he exclaims. He suddenly lets go of your hand and flops back on the couch, now laying horizontally, with both hands covering his face as he lets out an sigh. "Steve!" you laugh.

"I've never met someone like you before, usually I have girls just throwing themselves at me—before you say it, I know how that sounds just gimme a sec— but you, god, the more I saw you and the more I learned about you and through Robin and your insane excuses, the more hooked I got."

Your heart is beating way too fast that you're positive it can be heard from three houses down. Holy shit, am I getting my own love confession? Steve sits back up straight and his face is one of amused exasperation. "You've made me go crazy, what have you done to me?"

You suck in a gasp. "Well, my mom says the same thing whenever we fight actually," your mouth is spitting out an answer before your brain can fully catch up. You have no idea how to respond to this love confession—oh my god a love confession—that your mouth is just running on autopilot. "Lately, she's been on me about organizing my bookshelf, but like it's my bookshelf in my room, she doesn't have to look at it, and I'm categorizing and cataloguing my books, so of course it's messy, but she wants to pick a fight when I'm actually cleaning for once, so I do-"

Steve lets out a bark of laughter, "Oh Jesus Christ, just shut up."

And all of a sudden, you're being kissed. Passionately. With two hands holding the sides of your face. Your eyes are wide open while Steve's are closed, both your arms are raised slightly not quite knowing what to do with them.

The kiss ends before you can even process that it was happening. The only way you knew it occurred was because of the warmth on your cheeks left behind by Steve's hands and the slight sheen his lips have from your lip gloss.

"Steve," you start and in real time, you see his face flush with a lovely shade of pink, covering his face and creeping down his neck. "I'm sorry! You were just rambling and I didn't know how to help you calm down and I've wanted to do that for a long time but I should've asked you first before-"

It's your turn to cut him off as you lean in and capture his lips into yours. For a second Steve freezes before his mind and body catch up. He lets out a groan before manoeuvring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist and his hand cupping your cheek. One of your hands is gripping his bicep which holy fuck he is so strong and the other is resting with the hair at the nape of his neck.

His lips are soft and warm and you can taste the mint of the gum he had been chewing as you deepened the kiss. You can actually appreciate this kiss, having had some time to properly process it and melt into it. Fuck, he's such a good kisser.

Unfortunately, because the need to breathe starts to affect you more with each passing second, you separate his mouth from yours with a soft sigh. He leans his forehead onto yours, both arms gently holding your waist now. You stay like that for a few seconds, basking in the afterglow of the most intense kiss you've ever had in your life, especially considering it was with Steve.

Once you put just enough space between the two of you so you're able to see his entire face properly, you let out a small giggle, which turns into two, which turns into three, and eventually your whole body is shaking with laughter. Steve is looking at you incredulously as you place your head on his shoulder before he's joining you, you're laugh just being too contagious.

"What!?" Steve exclaims. "Am I that bad at kissing or something?" In between fits of giggles you shake your head. "No, on the contrary, it's because you're an incredible kisser." The full blown laughs have finally ceased to a few chuckles and you pry your head away from Steve's shoulder, only to look at him, feel the bubbles of laughter resurface, and place it right back in the same position.

Steve kisses the top of your head and starts running his fingers down your back, causing goosebumps to appear wherever they trailed. "You'll have to fill me in then, babe." The nickname earns another tiny giggle on your part. "Not everyone has that crazy mind that you do." He can practically feel you rolling your eyes at him.

"It's just crazy to me that the one thing I wished would happen to me this year actually happened. I wasn't worried about grades or whatever, I just wanted this. And look! It happened!" You remove yourself from your hiding place to look at Steve. "Me from three months ago would probably go into cardiac arrest if I told her this happened."

Steve smirks. "So basically, your solid plan of running away from the guy you liked to make sure this," he gestured between the two of you, "happened was a success."

You let out a squawk of indignation. "Hey, I was gonna say something to you eventually!" Steve is making a face that can only be translated as are you serious? before relenting and admitting, "Ok fine, maybe I wasn't. But the thought was there! That counts. Right?"

Steve snorts, "Sure babe, of course it does." You let out a pleased hum before a glaring at him seriously. "Just to make sure, this means we're dating right? Because I don't want to get the wrong idea and then mark this day as our anniversary and then our one month comes up and I want to do something small, but cute, and you're all like confused because we never explicitly said that we were a couple, and then I'm all mortified so yo-"

Needless to say, it wouldn't be the only time Steve would stop your ramblings that night with a kiss. And he planned on doing it a whole lot more.

[burreauxsss]

Are you include how y/n and Jo find out their expecting? I’m so excited them

mini me

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest, use your brain guys.)

notes: i was just about to write this! here we go.

word count: 701

warning: this is a au aka alternative universe series

You stared at the Flo notification on your phone that it sent you. You were late on your period; this never happened. Joe and you both promised to use protection every time, and even if there wasn't any available, you made sure he pulled out.

It was a sunny Monday morning, the week of the Super Bowl, while you were in the vacation house in New Orleans, sitting on the bathroom floor with your best friends in their respective rooms, who slept throughout the night peacefully. You wish that were you, having a boyfriend, not a care in the world. And now, you're praying that Mother Nature gives you just one sign.

Then your phone went off with the usual ringtone, it was Joe facetiming you. Ignoring his call, you opened the DoorDash app, not wanting to go out in public, and someone sees you at the wrong place. Clicking on the nearby pharmacy store, you scroll all the way down to the fertility section.

Spotting the casual pregnancy tests that cost an arm and a leg, you added them to the cart, paid for them, and waited for them to arrive. Unfortunately, your friends wake up, making it much harder to sneak in the bag without raising suspicion.

An hour late, it arrives, and one of your friends sees that you go to get the door, so she pays no attention. Sneaking into the bathroom, quietly unwrapping the box and the test. Reading the instructions you struggled with, you were too nervous as the writing became weird to your eyes.

Following the paper, you then stay in the bathroom, washing your face to not draw attention to yourself after, as the test is turned upside down on the toilet seat, the alarm app teasing you badly as you see it turn from 55 to 54.

The timer on your phone goes off, and you flip the test over. In shock, you see the words "pregnant" on the plastic stick. Then, turning to your right at the doorway, both of your best friends were standing there in the same expression you just were.

"y/n... You're pregnant?!" Laila says as she gets closer to you in the room to see if you're pranking them both. In the meanwhile, Dream stays still, her phone in her hand about to slip onto the floor, then the trio celebrates, but in the back of your head, you wonder how Joe will take this?

It had been 3 days since you'd found out that you were carrying his baby.

You told him after the NFL honors, so he wouldn't give it away with subtle touches on your stomach. He was a PDA person, just a tad bit in public, too. Joe took the news in a nonchalant expression, at first you thought he'd just leave you as like any other star cocky athlete and pay for the child support and never talk again.

But that was never the case with Joe; he was supportive. You weren't so sure about having a baby without much judging. Both of you would always be on the go, and would this be the end of your modeling career?

You begged your agent to book any shoots before the bump started to show, and she followed your instructions very well for the future of.

The next day, though, you logged onto Instagram due to Ja'marr sharing a post, and your heart dropped into your stomach. Seeing that every tea page on there covered the rumored pregnancy, which was impossible due to a bump.

How did they find out?

Well, during that week, you went to a cafe with your best friends to discuss it and got eavesdropped on. Blaming yourself as a famous person, privacy was out the window.

Clicking back on the app, you review the drafted schedule for brand drops and look at a picture. It looked beautiful, the yellow dress complementing your face and the glow of your pregnancy. Changing the caption, you type "baby burrow coming October 2025 🍼". Seeing the views go up, now there's no going back.

But in joes pov, there was something he was hiding. Which could alter how you think of him forever.

notes: new series coming soon 🤐 this specific 'hiding' ending had to line up for next chapter

[silenzahra]

Changes

Hello everyone. This is mostly gonna be an informative post about the immediate future of this account. It's gonna be long, so it's totally fine if you'd rather skip it.

You may have noticed that I've been away from Tumblr for the last few weeks. I'd rather not get into detail about the reasons that led me to make that decision, but despite me doing much better than the last time I dropped by, the thing is that something has changed.

This account is gonna remain mostly inactive. I have notifs, DMs and comments to respond to and I shall get to them at my own time, but I'll hardly reblog any more stuff from now on. Maybe just once a week or something like that, and without getting into much detail, definitely not like I used to reblog stuff in the past. This is absolutely nothing personal, but something that I've noticed recently.

I need a break from the Mario franchise.

You may recall me mentioning that I've been going through a terrible writer's block that made me fear that I'd never be able to write again. It took me about a month, but I ended up realizing that my problem was that I couldn't connect with the Mario characters again. As a writer, I can usually hear them talking in my head, or simply their thoughts, emotions and fears, and that's usually how I'm able to find the words to write them in my fics. But, ever since I wrote Follow me, that's disappeared, and not even the bros or Luaisy, my favorite things to write/consume content about, could make me feel the same enthusiasm again.

So I've come to the realization that this was simply my body asking for a break. I needed to try and find that emotion and excitement in something different. A book, a movie, a song, a show, another videogame franchise... I was craving some variety. And I'm in the process of getting it right now. I'm reading books again. I'm replaying old games like Spyro or Miitopia which I love and adore. I found another movie, one that I fell in love with about ten years ago, that reignited my passion and love for it, and it's brought back the need and desire to write again that I so much missed and yearned to revive. It has nothing to do with Mario, but in case you're interested, you can go here. It's where I'm gonna be most active from now on.

Don't get me wrong: I still love Super Mario. Very much. It's a franchise that's been with me my whole life and will continue to be there no matter what. It was the first series I ever wrote fanfiction for, and I've LOVED and enjoyed every single word that I've written for it. I have WIPs that I intend to finish and share someday. It just won't be anytime soon, so it's totally fine if you'd rather unfollow me. You can still find my stories on my AO3 account and some others that are only available on Tumblr through the tags zahra's writing and zahra's fics. You can also check out zahra's headcanons if you wanna read my Mario headcanons, and even though I'm far from being a talented artist, I've also posted some Mario art that you can find through the tag zahra's art.

That being said, I'll still be supporting Mario content from time to time, only that, as I said, I won't reblog much stuff, and if I do I won't go into too much detail. I obviously want to support my friends, but I also don't wanna, how to say it... sound "fake." I don't want to fake an excitement that I'm feeling 70% instead of 100%, especially when it comes to my friends' content. Who knows, maybe whenever we get a trailer for the Mario Movie sequel, my passion will come back in full force, or at least that what's I'm hoping for.

But in the meantime, this is how I'm gonna proceed.

Just in case you're interested, you can still find me on instagram (SilenZahra as my main account, san.marioluigifan as my gamer account), and I'm also on discord (SilenZahra as well). I'll probably be more active there than on Tumblr, at least for the next months.

In any case, I hope that you're all doing fine, and if you decide to stick around: thank you 💖 Please take care, and we'll meet again someday soon. I'm sure of it 💖

[xinganhao]

this milestone notification hit while i was in the middle of hiatus (which i am still kind of in! lol), so i'm a couple of days late ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ but, once again: thank you so much for enjoying my work! whether it's a like, a kind message in my inbox, a reblog/etc., it has meant so much 🫶🏻 i see and appreciate all of it, even if i may not be able to respond to everyone!

as i slowly but surely crawl my way back here, i do want to know:

1️⃣ do we prefer to see more individual member content/ot13 content? i've been slugging thru my series work (i.e. svtflix, burner acc.s), most of which are really individual members. i have long-term plans of one series per member (similar to not for sale and catch you when i can), but i want to know if in the nearer future there's any preference. :") i intend to balance them to the best of my ability; this is more of a pulse check than anything~

if you want to explain why you've voted for either, my dms and inbox are very much open. :) speaking of being open—

2️⃣ opening smau and text imagine requests for the next week or so! i'm in need of some inspiration to get back into the groove of things, so throw your member/ot13 thoughts my way. 🌟 the status of this may change according to how many asks i get, so please keep an eye on my pinned. ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ usual disclaimers apply: i reserve the right to accept/deny a request, please be patient, etc.

feel free to check my frequently asked questions for requests that are okay, my favorite tropes, etc.!

once again, thank you sooo much for being here ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- i don't think i'm entirely back yet (semi-ia is probably the best way to put it), but i am around. i hope you're happier than me today and, as always: don't be a stranger!

‹𝟹 kae (@studioeisa)

[todomochi-uwu]

Taste ┃ B. C

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis:

"Well, I heard you're back together and if that's true You'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you"

Loving him and losing him might hurt just as much or even more as making her taste your pain. Is it worth it? Or have you forgotten who was the one who wronged you?

Author's notes: Sad porn. Basically. Oh, and I don't condone any kind of cheating.

WARNINGS: Cheating (reader and Bang Chan)

This fanfic belongs to the series Short n' Sweet, please make sure to check it out.

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

They were on every single social media platform there is. All smiley, all cutesy. It made you want to throw up.  

When Christopher first told you things weren’t working out you believed him. The lack of time, miscommunication, stress and many other things made things harder than they needed to be. So, you thought, right person, wrong time. Maybe in the future... 

It wasn’t until you knocked on his door the weekend after you had ended things, having forgotten a box of your stuff (you still couldn’t decide whether it was on purpose or an actual slip) when she opened the door: hair disheveled, bare faced, his shirt the only thing covering her. Your entire body froze in shock, you could feel your heart cracking little by little, tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. 

What. The. Fuck.  

“Oh, Y/n, right?” She leaned against the door frame, scanning you up and down before smiling at you. She knew exactly who you were. “Chris said you might be stopping by.” She said while pushing the box into your hands, “Such a shame you didn’t work out. But you know what they always say, they always go back to their first love, bye.” Wiggling her fingers in front of your face. 

You spent a good ten minutes leaning against the wall trying to figure out how not to bawl your eyes out on the way home. Spoiler, you still did. 

Rage took over your mind, at first. Every single memory tinted with the idea of her. When did it even happen? How didn’t you notice? Why her and not you? You spent weeks trying to figure it out, trying to cope, but nothing could bring comfort to your restless heart. 

“I have never felt this way about someone, baby.” He said, holding you in his arms.  

You giggled, shaking your head, “Shut up, you are such a liar.” 

“I’m being serious,” he turned you around, looking into your eyes, “you have no idea how much I love you, Y/n.” 

Stalking their social media accounts was never a good idea, but you couldn’t help it. Why did he never post a photo of you? Thousands of photos of their relationship flooded your feed, them on a date, on vacation, where was all this time when it came to you? That’s when it finally clicked, if he wanted to, he would. It just was that you weren’t the one he wanted. 

While it was easier said than done, and admittedly, there were days when you wanted to die, the pain slowly eased. You worked on yourself, going out of your comfort zone, trying new things, reconnecting with old friends, and travelling a little. Your mind no longer going back to him. And like he’s got a sixth sense... 

A notification pops onto your phone screen. 

In the middle of having drinks, when you were looking your nicest and feeling your finest, there he was. In a small red heart at the bottom of your post. How tacky, you couldn’t help but think. So, you turned your phone down. 

But of course, you could put it out of your sight, only not out of your mind. 

_______________ 

And so, it started once again. A different post each day, the outfits got more and more revealing, while the poses left less and less to the imagination. You didn’t even have to wait a few minutes for the notification to pop up, in a matter of seconds there it was. It had become some kind of addiction, knowing he still thinks of you, knowing he still wants you. And that only made you want to get more daring. Something you would come to regret eventually. 

Burning in the back of your mind was still her, the way she wiggled her back into his life, into your relationship. It was something you couldn’t leave in the past. And your captions clearly showed it.  

_______________ 

A photo of you leaning against the wall. The dress you wore on your first date. “He's funny, now all his jokes hit different. Guess who he learned that from?”  

A photo of you laying on the bed, on all fours, ass up, tits spilling from the black lace corset. His favourite set, his favourite pose. “I heard you're back together and if that's true. You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you.”  

You were in the middle of cleaning your room, organizing your makeup, getting rid of clothes that you no longer like, when you come across it.  

A photo of you sitting on your knees in front of the mirror. Only a pair of thin panties covering your bottom. His favorite sweatshirt as a top. “You're wondering why half his clothes went missing, my body's where they're at.”  

_______________ 

Your phone rang from the kitchen bar, pulling your attention away from the soup boiling on the stove. Your stomach fell to the floor, and a small gasp escaped your mouth. 

Hey. 

_______________ 

“What are you doing, Y/n?”, said Felix.  

“It’s just a coffee, Lix.” 

“You know damn well it’s not only that.” He stood next to you while you finished getting ready, in front of the mirror, “when did you start talking again?” 

“Not long ago, a couple of weeks.” 

“A couple of weeks? Oh my god, have you forgotten what he did to you? How much it took you to even get out of bed?” 

“No, and no. It’s just lunch, Felix it’s not like I’m going to end up on his bed.” 

“Yeah, keep telling that to yourself. Besides, is he even single? I thought he was back with his ex.”  

“They’ve been having some problems.” You mumbled, not looking at him, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.  

“How much have you been talking to him? When did he ask you out? No, scratch that, why did you say yes?” 

“To get some closure, Lix.” You finished applying lipstick, “I swear, no more than a coffee, no more than an hour. Now,” you straighten your skirt and smile at your best friend, “how do I look?” 

“Like you are better than this.” 

_______________ 

You sat in your car, in front of the café, annihilating your fingernails, Felix’s words had implanted themselves into your brain; to be fair, it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before. What were you doing? Why were you here? A couple of weeks ago you were sure you didn't want anything to do with him ever again, but now? You weren´t so sure. And even if it came to that, could you do to her what she did to you?  

Your hand reached for your key, turning it to start your car, when a knock on the window pulled you out of your daze. There he was. 

His hair straightened and parted the way you like it, small black studs on his ears, black acid wash jeans and a sleeveless shirt. The bastard still knew exactly how to make your knees grow weak.  

“Hey, long time no see.” 

“Hey, yeah, it’s been a while.” 

... 

It was bound to happen. Everyone knew it. Him. You. But you liked to pretend it came out of nowhere. 

Chris was pounding into you as if his life depended on it, hands gripping your hips hard enough you were sure bruises would be there in the morning, your ass an angry red from all the spanking and slapping and your cunt dripping onto the satin sheets of the hotel room. 

“Fuck, Chris!” Face down, your knees are barely able to keep up with his rhythm.  

“I missed you so much, baby girl.” He pressed his chest against your back, whispering in your ear and kissing your neck, “I miss you; I miss your body, I miss your perfect little cunt.” He continued his way down your body, his fingers tracing small and quick circles on your clit. 

He knew your body like the back of his hand. Where to touch, where to suck, where to lick, everything; a part of you loves the idea that he still remembered such details; another part knows it’s about getting his dick wet. 

“You take my cock so well, fuck, oh god, I’m gonna cum.” He said between moans. His thrusts became quicker and shorter, but he knew exactly how to hit the spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Please, please, make me cum, Chris.” Gibberish and a few coherent words came out of your mouth. You were right on the edge, a step away from falling from the cliff. 

“Fuck!” 

And it finally snapped, the sudden warmth threw you over the edge, your whole body trembled, your lungs screaming for some air, and your mascara smeared all over your face and the sheets. You felt his hand caress your back up and down, his fingers tracing shapeless patterns on the skin. 

“Are you okay, baby?” His tone is now sweet and comforting, making your heart flutter. This is bad. 

“Yeah, yeah, umm thanks.” Accepting the bottle he pressed onto your lips. 

He smiled at you, “I meant it, Y/n I miss you.” 

You nodded, not sure what to say. 

_______________ 

And so, the cycle continued its course. You knew you had to leave, but you were not sure you had what it took to end it. Too much of a coward to confront him, to ask him what the fuck was happening. You liked to think you were different from Chan, that he was the one in a relationship, and that he should be the one to stop this, but you knew you were also guilty. 

On top of him, his back leaning against the bedframe, your hips went up and down in a slow sway, holding him close while he kissed your chest. Third, fourth round? Only God knows. This time you acted like you had all the time in the world, no rush, no frenetic passion, only the two of you. 

“I fucking adore you, princess.” He whispered against your lips. 

You only let out a small moan in response, not daring to say anything else. 

His hands stroked the skin on your legs, giving you goosebumps. You had been in this exact scene before, only this time your heart didn’t fill with love, it only broke even further.  

You increased the pace, bouncing harder on his cock. You backed away placing your hands on his knees, Chan’s let himself fall back down on the bed, putting his arms behind his head, he enjoyed the show in front of him. Your boobs jumped up and down, his abdomen muscles clenching, his groans and moans increased their volume, his hands gripped your ass desperately and right before he came, he pressed toy against his chest. 

“Oh shit! Oh god, I love you Y/n.”  

_______________ 

His head between your legs, his tongue lapping up your clitoris and his fingers stuffing your cunt. You felt like in heaven. Your hands pulled on his hair, and he moaned against your centre; your legs thrashed around, and his name left his lips again and again. You were right there, but as you opened your eyes, there it was. In the mirror ceiling (that for some reason he convinced you to try) the picture of you, in bed, with a man you could no longer call your own.  

That was when your heart finally evaporated into nothing, and the fog left your mind. 

_______________ 

You paced around Hyunjin’s apartment, cigarette in your hand. You felt like throwing up, like ripping your hair out, and vomit all over the floor, all at the same time. 

“You’ve got to calm down.” He leaned against his burgundy sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“I’m a homewrecker, Hyunjin.” Your hands trembled, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Everything was just getting better, I was so close, and now, now, I’m, now, this. I’m a homewrecker.” Tears escaped your tears along with choked gasps. 

“You are not a homewrecker, my love.” He got up and grabbed your hands, making you look at him, “she did the same thing to you. She deserves it.” 

“I don’t want to be like her, Jinnie. I don’t, I can’t be like her.” You cried into his arms. 

“You are not doing anything, he’s the one who is actively deciding to do this.” You love Hyunjin, you know he’s always going to be on your side, even when you don’t deserve it.  

“I need to stop this. I don’t want it any longer.” You whispered. 

He nodded and went to look for your phone, “you are right, this must stop. Don’t worry, love you are not alone.” 

“At the end of the day, it wasn’t her who cheated on me, it was him. He was the one who broke my heart.”  

So, you did what you should have done in the first place. You got rid of him everywhere, blocked him out of your life, no messages, no calls, no emails, not even comments. You took down all it, ashamed of the things you did and spoke. You ask everyone to not say a thing about yourself to Chan or to you about him, detoxifying yourself from him. Guilt didn’t quite abandon you, but it was your cross to bear.  

_______________ 

You had come across her, it was on a random night, at a random place. Your looks crossed and you felt all the air ripped out of your lungs. She looked miserable. They had broken up; you had read it somewhere (you swore you hadn’t looked it up). You felt like apologizing, but then decided against, what would you say? I’m sorry for fucking with your relationship, I’m sorry for giving you a taste of what I felt like? Like it justifies your actions.  

_______________ 

Chris had tried everything to get in contact with you, fake accounts, new phone numbers, he begged everyone who knew you to tell him something, anything, where you were, how you were doing, were you thinking of him? 

“Felix, please, I know I fucked, please tell me where is she? Let me speak to her.” 

“Chan, I don’t even know what you are doing here. I’m not telling you shit, leave her alone.” 

“Please, I love...”, he was cut off. 

“Why now? Why do you want her now? Why not when you had her?” 

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, as simple as that.” 

“Oh, believe me I know, I know how much of a piece of shit you are. You and your little pity party can go to hell.”  

_______________ 

“It’s like she vanished, Sana.” Chris said on the phone. 

Sana could only roll her eyes, she had heard this speech like a thousand times, and she was way past it, “Chan, please, let it go. You fucked up, you now move on, there’s nothing left to do.” 

He groaned, “but...” 

“But nothing, leave that girl alone, Chris it’s time for you to accept she doesn’t want you back. I mean, after that shit you pulled, who would?” 

_______________ 

He knew what he had to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Letting you go was one of the hardest he ever had to do, and while he was the one to break up with you, and fuck his ex, he still had hope. He’s such an asshole, and he knew it. 

It wasn’t until one day, passing by your once favourite café, he saw you. Sitting down there, reading a book, by yourself, he at once thought it was the right time to make things right, to say all the things that had been running through his mind since the last time he saw you.  

I love you.  

I meant everything I said, I miss you and I’m going crazy without you.  

Please, give me a chance to make things right. 

And as he was going to push the door, he wondered, should he do it? What right did he have to disrupt your world once again? And so, he backed down. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He whispered to himself.  

[ramp-it-up]

ii Most Wanted Part 10: 'Til The Day I Die (1)

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: How you and Sy overcome long distance. And what about your friends?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. Distance, horny, filthy Sy on video, electronic sex, masturbation, voice/dirty talk kink, glasses kink, size kink, Angst, Sex in committed relationship. Oral sex, female receiving, making love, raw p in v, fluffy Sy, future plans, your friends are menaces, and of course, so is Sy.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the 10th installment of II Most Wanted. These characters won't quit, so this series will be extended, but not for much longer. Results from the wedding dress poll will be revealed in the next part. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

———

Don’t open this in public.

You were intrigued when you got the notification, but you did as you were told, and put your phone back into your purse, catching up with your friends but with anticipation for when you got home.

It was just the second day back in your town, and you were out to dinner with co-workers who wanted to catch up on your new development. You’d just started to fill them in on you and Sy’s story when you got his message.

—--

The day before…

All morning, Sy thought of you and the picture you’d sent. He had to concentrate to work, and therefore was a bit of an asshole to the guys all day. He couldn’t wait to talk to you again. When you answered his call that evening, he’d been struck dumb.

“Sy? Are you there? Can you see me… can you hear me? Shit, this must be a bad connection.”

Sy seemed frozen, his mouth gaping open.

“I’ll have to call you b–”

“Wait, Buttercup, don’t hang up. I’m here.”

You smiled at him and settled back on your pillows.

“Good, You looked like you were frozen.”

“I was, kinda. I’m at a loss for words, Buttercup.”

You adjusted the glasses that Sy had never seen you in and patted your hair. You must have looked tired after a long day. You laughed nervously.

“You want to reconsider? You finally see me in my natural state. In bed, my hair up, in comfy clothes and glasses. Tired as hell. This is me. Sure this is what you want?”

You chucked your chin up as if you were ready to take a blow.

Sy recognized your anxiety and shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Buttercup…”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You bit your lip as you prepared for the worst. After all that happened this weekend, Sy was about to drop you like a hot potato.

“I need to ask you a question.”

“Sure, Sy.” 

“Will you marry me? You are the most gorgeous thing on the planet. Good lord…”

You stared at him in disbelief, then laughed, wishing he were there so that you could punch him. 

“You are a menace, Syverson, I swear.”

You sighed and brought the phone closer to your face. 

“Of course I will marry you. I am marrying you. Can’t take it back now. I will hunt you down.”

Sy grinned at you, reveling in the fact that you actually wanted him too.

You grinned back at him. 

“And you don’t have to butter me up. I’ll show you my boobs.”

“Mmmmmm. I’m not trying to butter you up, Buttercup. You are the cutest little thing in those glasses. Giving me all kinda thoughts. Can’t wait to see you like that in person and hold you again. But in the meantime, I’ll take you up on that offer….”

The next morning, even after having fun sexy time on the phone, Sy woke up with a boner and the memory of an extremely hot dream involving you naked on the kitchen table in those glasses.

And to make it worse, you had sent him a picture of you in those same glasses and his Army T-shirt the next morning. Sy was very hot and bothered.

Just in a slightly better mood.

—--

It was after 11 pm once you settled into bed and got your phone out. 

You opened your text thread to see a graphic up close video of Sy’s cock, slick and leaking as he gripped it hard, fisting it brutally, his thumb swiping over the tip when he reached the top.

You clutched your pearls, but stared at the screen and opened the video, licking your lips and wishing that you were with him.

“Got me down bad, Buttercup. So fucking horny for you. And that picture. That. Fucking. Picture. Have so much cum for you I don’t know what to do with it.”

Your hand was on your neck and you dragged it down under Sy’s shirt to grip one of your nipples, squirming in your bed at the thought of the cock that was held before you. You couldn’t believe that Sy had recorded this. But you weren’t mad.

Not at all, although you felt faint and swore you had a fever. Your body was hot and your throat was parched and your eyes were glued to the screen

“Oh my god, Sy…” 

You spoke to the image as if it were him and immediately put your hand down your underwear.

“Are you wet for me? If I walked through your bedroom door right now, would I find you playing in your panties?”

You heard him panting and then pausing what he was doing to squeeze the base of his cock. 

“Fuck! I can’t stop what’s coming, Buttercup.”

Sy grabbed his balls up with his two smallest fingers as the rest of them squeezed his shaft tighter.

“Why can’t I stop? That picture. That’s why. Y’look so fucking cute and godamn sexy in those glasses and my shirt.“

You gasped. You thought the picture was rather innocent. You were fully covered up. And you never imagined that your glasses would be a sex aid. 

“Well ain’t that a peach,” you said out loud and giggled at your use of a Sy-ism.

“The shirt is so big on you that it slips off your neck and I can see your collarbone and the hickey I put there the other day. The size of the shirt reminds me how tiny you are and how, how f-fucking tight your little pussy is… ugh.”

He sounded so desperate, and him handling himself was so erotic. Your clit was hard now and you were as desperate as your fiancé was on the video. 

“I was hard all fucking day, Buttercup. But I didn’t touch myself until now. It was like I was punishing myself. But then I thought about punishing you…”

You stilled, heart almost beating out of your chest. Did he just say…?

“Yeah I said it, Buttercup.”

Sy panned the camera to his face and it looked fearsome. It made your heart thrill and you gush wetness over your fingers as you started again to rub your clit in tight, tight circles.

“I thought about spanking that beautiful ass of yours until it’s hot to the touch, then fucking you. Hard.”

You swore you saw his blue eyes actually flash through the screen.

“ …just until you are ready to cum. Then stopping. Making you wait, like I have to, to feel you again…”

You whimpered.

“...making you get on your knees and feeding you my cock until both of us are dripping wet and can’t handle it anymore. FUCK! Can’t stop thinkin’ of that mouth of yours, fucking your throat until tears run down your face and then letting go all over you, and getting those glasses filthy with my cum.”

“Fuuuuckkk! Sy!”

Your fingers were touching yourself, but Sy’s words were getting you there.

“Christ, Buttercup! You drive me crazy woman.”

You could tell that he was speaking through clenched teeth and was trying not to cum even though the camera was focused again on his cock. Pre cum almost continually squirted out of his tip, and his entire shaft looked glazed, like a donut. You licked your lips at the thought.

“Is your clit pounding all pretty like it does for me? Hm? After all that, I wanna eat you out, damn, I just want to taste you again, to wrap my lips around that pretty little clit and drink from that fountain, Buttercup.”

Your back arched as you remembered the burn of Sy’s beard between your legs. Your vision whited out as you came. You wanted him there with you.

“Bet you came right then. Nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

Sy chuckled as he read your mind.

“Send me another picture like that and don’t be surprised if I turn up at your doorstep the next day. Don’t say anything, just take this cock in whatever hole I choose to put it in….”

Sy continued to speak until you witnessed his precious white cum spurt forcefully out of his cock, the sight making you touch your sensitive pussy again, this time moaning his name for your empty house.

Your mind was scrambled by the time he had wound down said a sweet and tame, “Goodnight Buttercup. Sleep tight. I love you. Talk to you soon.”

Sy had ruined you. You had to return the favor.

You looked at the clock and noticed that it was almost 2 am in Texas, so you didn’t call him like you wanted to.

Instead, you opened your own camera to record a special wake up call for Sy.

And that was how you kept your sexual connection sizzling across 1500 miles.

—-

Even though you had a fiancé, you couldn’t neglect the rest of your life, or the friends who had been constant in your life for 20 years. You looked forward to your weekly zoom with Carla and Tiffany.

Normally.

At the moment, you were being lambasted by your besties three states over.

“So… you come home for a reunion and we see you, what?  A total of about 4 hours over the course of about 80?”

You tried to explain, but Carla interrupted.

“You right, Tiff! So what’s up Buttercup! You ditched your friends for some d– GIRL WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ON YOUR FINGER!!??!??”

Your two best friends in the world start screaming.

“Is that the ring? THEEE Ring?”

Tiffany was up and gesticulating in her living room, her two teenagers looking at her like she was crazy since she had her earbuds in.

“Yes-”

Your explanation is interrupted by Carla again.

“Oh no you didn’t. Because you didn’t tell us about it. That better be a, ‘the pussy was so good I gotta give you some jewelry ring, and not the ring you gushed over in high school when you started writing “Mrs Jacob Syverson” all over your little notebooks. Not that important ass ring that probably means a very important ass thing that we have no idea about. Right?”

Now she was quiet as Carla and Tiffany waited for you to reply. You smile sheepishly and shrug.

“Wanna come to Vegas in a month?”

Tiffany threw up both her hands and screamed while Carla hung up. 

But by the end of the night, they were both back on the call and on the same page as you. They listened as you explained how you came to realize that you didn’t want to waste anymore time because of what other people did and thought. 

You told them how much you loved Sy and how much you wanted this. They couldn’t deny that you were right. They ended the call as your best allies who just needed to have a tiny talk with Sy.

—-

“I can’t believe that they went over to your house and threatened you.”

Sy only looked a little scared. You had to laugh.

“It was more terrifying than war, Buttercup. Those women are scary. We coulda used them in country.”

Then Sy was chuckling. 

“They calmed down when I explained how much I love you, and how I would make sure that nothing or no one ever hurts you again. Even me.”

Damn. You really loved this man. You smiled at him.

“Well, I’m glad that you escaped unharmed. You might want to check Betty before you start it in the morning, though.”

“No worries. I set up a time for them to help me… for them to help me get something for the wedding. Everything is cool.”

You raised an eyebrow at your phone. He grinned.

“You’re so godamn cute, Buttercup.”

“What are you up to, Jake Syverson?”

“Just getting ready for the most important day in our lives.” 

Sy smirked at you as you gave him a side eye.

“The question at hand, though,” He wiggled his eyebrows and held up his dominant hand then lowered it, and you could clearly tell what he was doing. “Is what are you wearing, Buttercup?”

You were successfully distracted.

—--

The first two weeks apart from Sy went by pretty quickly. You were very busy: You had to turn in paperwork, find a property management company, order moving supplies, search for a house cleaner and stager, and shop for wedding dresses with Carla and Tiffany virtually critiquing every choice.

You finally settled on the perfect choice for a Vegas wedding dress in July that was to your taste and that would drive Sy crazy. But you were exhausted. You didn’t have time to second guess yourself. 

You texted Sy all day long and facetimed every evening. It wasn’t just phone sex; you talked about your plans for the future, your five year plans, and how you wanted your marriage to work.

“I want us to have a family meeting every quarter, even if it is just for the day, and check on the status of our marriage. Want us to adjust everything as needed, finances, individual and couple goals, and evaluate where we are with one another. And make changes if we need to.”

You didn’t know why you were surprised, but you were. You just didn’t expect Sy to come at you this way.

He laughed at the look on your face. 

“I know that you think I’m the emotional one, and that you are the analytical one. But I don’t want us to take each other for granted. This is too important, Buttercup. This will be for the rest of our lives.”

You smiled and responded with your heart.

“Forever and ever, amen.”

“Forever and ever, amen.”

—

The last week before the 4th crawled by.

You were amped up, which gave you excess energy to get packed up. You tried not to bother him too much, because he was trying to tie a bow on some projects so that he could have time off for the wedding and honeymoon. 

It just didn’t seem real.

Finally, Sy was getting on the road to come to you. You were nervous for the two days that it took for Sy to drive out to your place, talking to him much of the way to keep him company as you finished packing up the few things you wanted to put in the back of the Bronco.

You couldn’t sleep the night of the first day when you knew that he was sleeping just 10 hours away from you. The next morning, Sy confessed much the same. 

Your car was picked up by the shipping company, and the storage container was delivered and set on the front lawn in the driveway the morning he was to arrive and you were at your living room window watching when you heard Betty Bronco turn the corner around 6 pm. 

When you saw her down the road, you couldn’t help but take off on foot down the road to meet him, causing Sy to honk and stop the truck in the middle of the road to get out and snatch you up.

“Buttercup!”

He picked you up, twirled you around and lifted you over his head as you laughed and your soon-to-be ex neighbors looked at the scene curiously from their lawns, or their porches, or from between the slats on their blinds. Neither one of you cared about the scene you’d created.

You began kissing him before he let you down and slid down his body before he pushed you back away from him to look at you. Your curls were up in a puff and you had your glasses on and Sy laughed down at you, clad in one of his flannels and denim short shorts.

“Didn’t know that you stole that shirt too, Buttercup. You are so fine. And all mine. Soon to be Mrs. Syverson.”

He kissed you again, and before things got too heated, you pulled away and pushed him back toward Betty.

“Let’s get out of the road and into the house, Sy.”

He winked at you.

“Good idea, Buttercup.”

You practically skipped to your door as Sy parked by the curb and got his bag out of the back of Betty. You held the door open but as soon as Sy stepped foot inside, he slammed it shut and you against it.

“Hello, little lady.”

“Hullo Sy. I missed you.”

“No question I missed you too. But in less than 72 hours, we will be saying ‘I do.’”

Sy looked at you hungrily.

“Yes, Sir. You ready for that?

“Fuckin’ A.”

And Sy kissed you. Tentatively at first, rubbing his lips against yours, his beard tickling your cheeks, You put your hand up to rub your fingertips in it while he traced your lips with his tongue. You moaned, and thats when his tongue darted in to meet yours, re-exploring your mouth and causing yours to venture out and re-explore his.

Sy grabbed your hips and lifted you up so that your heads were level with each other and causing your legs to wrap around his waist. His hands explored under his shirt as yours went around his neck. And when you finally stopped kissing, you leaned your forehead against his, a little overwhelmed by the emotion.

“Sy…”

You whimpered it, your need emerging, but Sy let you down, letting your body slither against his as you gained your feet again.

“I know, baby. But show me around a little bit before we… show me around. Need to see how you are and how you are doing.”

You nodded and looked down at his shoes, which were huge next to yours. Why did that get you wet?

“Take those off.”

You did it first, showing him where to put them, and as he did as he was told, you backed up and admired your man. When he looked back up at you, he winked.

“Well, this is it. It’s not as big as your–”

“Our.”

“...house, but it’s been good to me.”

You showed him around the small dwelling, and he admired the craftsman bones of the house.

“Looks like you got most of everything packed up.”

You smiled wide at him.

“Had a burst of energy lately.”

“Hmmm. You were supposed to wait for me, Buttercup,” Sy said, turning his big body in the small, filled-with-boxes space.

“What are we gonna do for the next two days?”

You suddenly felt shy. He really made you feel like a kid again.

“Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll order some food. Maybe take a nap? You must be tired from the drive…”

Sy looked at you with an intensity that shook you to your core.

“I’ll take you up on that shower. Need to wash the road off. And go ahead and order the food if you want. Your favorite place. I am mighty hungry.” Sy’s eyes swept up and down your form and you stuttered.

“Oh-okay. L-let me show you the bathroom.”

Sy followed you and you felt his eyes on you as you got him set up.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

Sy chuckled. 

“Thanks, Buttercup. Won’t be long."

You were shook as you ordered Thai food and tried to make space at your small table among the boxes. You felt like it was 20 years ago, yet again. 

In a few minutes, Sy came out of your master suite, clad in grey sleep pants. You tried not to stare, but hell, he was yours. You dragged your eyes up his thick, muscular form to his handsome face.

“Food’s here.”

You gulped as he held his hand out. 

“Great. It’ll reheat, right? Cause right now what I need is to hold my future wife.”

You melted into him as he practically carried you back into your bedroom and laid you both down on the king sized bed that took up most of the room. You relaxed into his arms suddenly safe again. You thought about how he hadn’t immediately wanted to fuck. He’d asked about you and how you were doing. He was so pure.

“What are you thinking, Buttercup?

Sy whispered and brushed a knuckle over your cheek. 

“Just thinking about what a good man you are,” you whispered.

“You are so good to me. Even when I was giving you hell about what happened 20 years ago…”

Sy chuckled. 

“Never stop giving me hell, Buttercup. What I need is a woman who can keep me on my toes.”

You turned toward Sy and kissed him, causing a groan when you threw your thigh over his hips. 

“There are a few things that I need to give you,Right here in your bed.” 

“Our bed,” you replied as you arched your back and his lips ventured down the side of your neck.

His hands skimmed the side of your breasts, squeezing them gently through his shirt.

 “I like the sound of that, Buttercup.” 

Sy smiled into your neck, his voice was muffled since his lips were busy on your collarbone, making new marks, and his hands were busy unbuttoning and unwrapping you from his shirt. His eyes went wide as he leaned back and looked at your naked torso, then locked in on your eyes again.

“Missed you so damn much.”

“Me, too, Sy.”

Sy descended again to place his lips to your skin, covering your breasts with soft kisses, despite the pebbling, hardening flesh over your sensitive peaks. When he drew those into his mouth was when you arched into his hand, which had unbuttoned your shorts and delved inside to cup your moist mound.

“Damn, I can’t wait for you to be mine, fully. To carry my name…”

“I am yours, Sy. Til the day I die…”

Sy muttered a soft curse, squeezing his eyes shut, and he chewed his bottom lip, concentrating, as his fingers strummed you to the edge. He gradually increased the pace, as you widened your legs and held onto his shoulder. You rotated your hips, wining on his hand until he swore again and rubbed his thumb over your clit. Your orgasm ripped through you, intense and earth-shattering, causing you to throw your head back and scream. 

“Holy fuck, you are so beautiful when you come. Give it to me.”

He leaned down and suckled at your nipple while your pulses slowed, then he scooted lower, dragging your shorts off and parting your thighs and propping them on his shoulders. He stared at it for a minute, while you brushed his now longer curls out of his eyes. He smiled at you and then your pussy.

“She’s so beautiful.”

You giggled, but it was cut short as his lips made contact. You felt the groan he emitted through your soul, and you had to bite your lip at the first brush of his tongue on the super sensitive skin that was still recovering from your orgasm. The first lick of your slick center had you clenching your hands into the sheets.

“Oh God.”

He lapped at you, kissing and exploring with his tongue. He took his time, seeming to be in no hurry. When his tongue circled your throbbing bundle of nerves, you flew apart in his hands again, but he didn’t let up. He kept lapping and slid a finger into you causing you to roll your hips and your legs to open wider.

Sy parted your folds to put another finger inside you, curled both of them, stroking over those bundles of nerves inside you as he pumped in and out as he suckled your clit. Your third orgasm rolled through you, on the heels of the one before it.  

He drew himself back up your body, naked now, having shed his pants as you were coming down, pausing to nip at your hips and his favorite parts of you, then to suck at both breasts. When he made it to your lips, he whispered against them.

“That’s going to be a daily thing.” 

“You could do that to me any time you want, Sy. Please, fuck me now. Please? Pleaseeeee?” 

He shifted between your thighs and teased your slit with his leaking cock as his jaw clenched. You begging was his kryptonite.

“I had the idea to wait until we got married. But… I just… can’t….”

You moaned and he closed his eyes as he slowly entered you inch by inch, stretching you out again for him. His jaw remained clenched, and yours was gaped open in a gasp until he was fully seated inside you. Sy leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“So tight. So good for me, Buttercup…Suchhhh a good girl for me, baby…”

You keened at his praise as he started moving, making love to you sweetly, kissing you, holding you tenderly, and looking into your eyes. The connection was everything.

“You’re mine. And I am yours.” 

“I know.” 

The tense knot in your belly began to unfurl, and you held onto him tight as the orgasm took over you. 

“Love you so much, Buttercup.” 

With just a few more strokes, Sy found his release.

—-

You eventually got up from bed and ate. Then you talked for the rest of the night. 

You and Sy caught up you loaded the shipping container, leaving the big furniture for the movers. You were in your little domestic bubble until you heard pounding on your door on the morning of the 4th of July, the day before you and Sy were going to drive to Vegas for the wedding.

Sy got up from bed and opened the door, as you peered around the corner from your bedroom.

He looked through the peephole and rolled his eyes before he opened the door. He let Carla and Tiffany push him aside as they entered your house.

“Move aside, Syverson. We’re here to take our bestie for some girl time and a bachelorette party to remember before she signs her life away.”

You stared at Sy, then at them as they continued. 

“Pack your bags, Buttercup, we’re going to Vegas!”

——

Please if you liked it!

Next part here.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 27

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 26 | Series Masterlist | Part 28

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4k

Chapter Summary: An idea comes to you regarding part of your future and Bucky has a few choice words for your parents.

Chapter Warnings: Confrontation, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: I don't know what happened to the original post. Let's try this again! More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought it would feel strange with Curtis hanging out in the kitchen while you baked the brownies, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought, and it was something you’d have to get used to since he would be around you going forward. He didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk unless you asked him a question, likely trying to remain in the “shadows”. You did wonder what was on his mind since he mentioned being trapped, but it wasn’t any of your business. He was your bodyguard but that didn’t mean he’d be your friend. 

“Smells delicious,” he said, standing when you took them out of the oven. 

“Don’t worry. I won't burn myself,” you said, nodding for him to sit back down. “And thanks. I hope you like them.”

“I'm sure I will.”

Ray walked into the kitchen the moment you set the brownies out to cool off and looked between you and Curtis who settled back in his chair. “A treat for breakfast?” he guessed.

“A treat for Curtis,” you said, making your bodyguard smile a little.

Ray blinked hard and slow. “I see,” he said, pushing his glasses up. Did that upset him? 

“Well, that batch is for Curtis. You have first dibs on the other batch,” you clarified. 

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” The blonde raised an eyebrow. “And what about the boss?” 

“He’s third. He knows what he did,” you said unapologetically. They were your brownies. You could do what you wanted with them.

Curtis hid a smile before Ray asked, “And how are you feeling?”

You put your hands on the counter and shrugged. “Hard to say since I’m seeing my parents today and still dealing with…”

“Everything,” Ray finished for you. 

You nodded. “I appreciate you asking.” It felt like you hadn’t talked to him in days and you admittedly missed it. Like Curtis, keeping you safe wasn’t a bore or chore in his eyes. He believed you were brave and part of you was starting to believe it, too. 

“We’re all glad you're safe now,” he softly said.

“Careful there. You might be showing emotion,” Curtis said, earning him a glare from his colleague. 

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked. 

“He sulked for a minute when you kicked him out of the kitchen,” he said, making Curtis snort. Again, Bucky knew what he did. “But he’s in his office. Called Steve and Natalia. He also got an update on Lois.”

“How is she?” you asked, hoping that things were still looking up.

“She’s recovering well,” he assured you. You were glad to hear that. “From what we know, she’s stubborn and strong and it’ll take time, but she’ll be fine.”

You let out a breath. “I really need to see her, and I need to talk to Natasha,” you said. A woman you could hopefully help heal and move forward and a woman who was going to help you in some capacity. Both receiving and paying it forward. As that thought settled in your mind, an idea washed over you, making you stand up straighter and look at Ray again. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“I have a thought,” you answered, trying not to get too excited. “I need to talk to Bucky.”

Curtis jumped from his chair when you walked out without another word, his footsteps behind you nearly silent. He really was going to be a good bodyguard for you. Ray followed, too, likely curious about why you rushed out so quickly.

Bucky looked up from his desk when you walked into the office, a smile on his face when he stood up. “Brownies ready?” he asked, holding his hand up to keep Curtis and Ray from walking in. 

“Yeah, but that’s not what I came in here for,” you said, taking a seat on the sofa. Bucky immediately went to join you. “I have a bit of a crazy idea and I wanted to get your opinion on it.” 

“You want my opinion?” The subtle shift in his posture showed he was touched. “And I’m the crazy one, Kotyonok, so nothing you could say would ever sound crazy to me.”

You didn’t dispute that he was crazy. “So, you know how one of the things that attracted you to me was helping your mom and my generally kind nature?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And you helped Natasha however long ago so she could give the women who work at her hotel a better life, right?” you continued. You remembered Natasha telling you if it wasn't for Bucky she wouldn't be where she was. 

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed, not elaborating on how or why.

“What if I do something kind of like that? What if I try to help other women who have…” You swallowed and tried to find the right words, suddenly nervous to ask for his opinion. “Been through stuff, like Lois or me.”

He tilted his head. “You want to help women who have been hurt in some capacity?”

“Yeah. Assault. Abuse. Trauma,” you said. You thought of your own situation, not just Clark's attack, but Bucky systemically making his way into your life. He wasn't out to harm you, but some stalkers did try to harm their victims. “And it's not like I’d have to quit being a florist. I just… I don't know. I want to do something.”

It could've been a means to take back some more control of your life. Being by Bucky’s side, you didn’t want to lose who you were in your core and wanted to continue putting good back into the world. Perhaps you wanted to pay it forward even more since others didn't have the kind of money and protection you now had. 

“It’s stupid, isn't it?” you asked when he stayed quiet. 

You were a florist. Yes, you volunteered when you could and wanted to help people, but it wasn’t your area of expertise. An endeavor like that was out of your depth, wasn't it? 

Bucky framed your face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of pride and fury. “Don't you ever say an idea of yours is stupid. I won't stand for that,” he said, his gaze softening considerably. “Especially since that’s a great idea.”

You studied him, looking for any sign that he was joking. He wasn’t. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He kissed the tip of your nose with a smile. “Really. Money won’t be an issue. We can sketch out a plan and figure out what exactly you want to focus on, start local and small. Or you can sketch out the plan and I’ll give input if you seek it out,” he said, a hint of his businessman tone coming out. “If this is really something you want, we’ll make it happen.”

“So, just like that?” you asked. He was really supporting this?

“Of course. It’s admirable that you continue to look out for others and I’m going to support whatever you want to do,” he said. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. You didn’t want to admit how nice it felt that he was backing this up, especially when you had no set plan yet. 

“It also means a lot that you asked for my opinion.”

“Well, we have to talk through these things. It’s what couples do,” you said. 

His smile was brighter than the light in the room. “So, you really see us as a couple now.”

“I guess so,” you said. What choice did you have?

He sighed before he kissed your lips, featherlight and full of promise. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, suddenly standing and helping you to your feet, too. “You’re still in your robe.”

“I’ve been in the kitchen this whole time,” you reminded him, your mind going back to Curtis and wondering more about his past. 

Bucky checked his watch. “Why don’t you get ready for lunch? I think Curtis and Ray have seen you in your robe enough for one day,” he tried to tease while his eyes stayed on his watch. 

“And what about the day I’m walking around in nothing but my underwear?” you blurted out without meaning to.

Darkness crossed Bucky’s eyes, but it was more lust than rage when he put his hands on your hips. “I’d hate to have to hurt my own men, but I do love the thought of you walking around our home so… freely.”

“I’ll bet you do,” you whispered, knowing he’d probably chase you around or drag you to bed if he had the chance. “But for now, yes, I should get dressed.”

“Don’t want to keep your parents waiting,” he said, letting you pull away to get ready. “I hope I make a lasting impression.”

You shivered, wondering just what kind of impression he wanted to make. “I’m sure you will.”

Curtis leaned against the wall outside of the office while Ray stood on the other side. “You want to help others, huh?” your bodyguard asked.

You stopped to face him. “Yeah, I do.”

Curtis didn’t say anything else, but he looked impressed. So did Ray. You didn’t have time to dwell on that. You had to get ready for a lunch that you didn’t want to go to. 

But your whole life as of late had been a series of events you had to participate in without much of a choice, so what was one more?

Bucky held your hand the entire drive to the restaurant and didn’t force you to talk, which you appreciated since your stomach was in knots. You found yourself playing with the diamond necklace, which he had put around your neck before you left. Your mom would no doubt stare at it or make a comment since you had never had such a nice piece of jewelry. Was this going to be a disaster or were you overthinking it?

“We’ll get through this quickly,” Bucky told you once the car stopped, his lips brushing the top of your hand. “Long enough for me to meet them and send them on their way.”

The knot in your stomach tightened more. How exactly was he going to send them on their way? “And after that?”

“Whatever you want,” he promised, helping you out of the car.

You didn’t pay much attention as you were escorted to the private table, but you knew Ray and Curtis weren’t far behind. The place was bright and airy, but sophisticated. It would've been a nice place to go on a date. Would this lunch sour that idea?

“I’m here,” Bucky whispered, pulling out your chair for you.

Considering the way he burst into your life you never expected to lean on him for anything. You had since your attack and now this, looking to him for support without meaning to. You even asked for his opinion on your idea to help other women, which you did seek out. Who were you becoming?

“Why do I care so much about what they think?” you asked when he sat down beside you.

“Because they’re your parents and it’s natural,” he replied, taking your hand under the table. “But you don’t need them.”

You were about to argue that you did need them before you caught them in your line of sight, your back rigid as they moved closer. They didn’t look overjoyed to see you, which broke your heart a bit. Bucky squeezed your hand before you realized you had squeezed his hand first. This was going to be a long lunch.

“It’s good to see you,” your dad said when Bucky released your hand only to pull your chair back to help you stand. “And you must be-”

“Bucky, her boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, shaking his hand and smirking when your dad winced and turning a critical eye on your mom. Neither of them hugged you before they took their seats and you quickly sat back down to hide your embarrassment. “You two raised quite the woman,” he added, daring them to say something.

“Thank you,” your mom said, looking over the menu. 

“Since the menu seems to be more important than greeting your daughter, please, pick whatever you want,” Bucky smiled like a wolf getting ready to strike while you gaped at him. “I spare no expense when it comes to her and her… loved ones. Just look at her necklace. I purchased it for our first date.”

Your mom’s mouth fell open and you felt a bit of satisfaction when your dad squirmed in his seat. Did that make you a bad person? “I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it.” Your mom cleared her throat. “We’re thrilled to see you. It’s just with our accounts being frozen…”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” you filled in the blanks. You were used to it.

“Yes, I’m sorry about your accounts,” Bucky said without sounding sorry at all and pretended to look over his menu. “Interesting how you always think of others first even when you have a lot on your mind, Kotyonok,” he said loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Makes me wonder what that came from.”

Your mom’s mouth didn’t drop again, but you heard her sharp inhale on her next breath and your dad squirmed again. They weren’t used to subtle insults like that, especially from someone who had just met them. But as Bucky took your hand, you very much felt like his queen and he was defending you as such.

“Aren’t you going to compliment her necklace?” Bucky asked, turning his head to smile at you. “It’s as beautiful as she is.”

Your face felt hot when your parents stared and admired the diamonds. “They don’t have to say anything,” you mumbled.

“But I don’t understand. What kind of parents don’t compliment their child, especially when they haven’t seen them in some time?” he asked. Once again, it was loud enough for them to hear. He was digging the knife in and twisting it in the most passive aggressive way.

“It’s beautiful,” your mom said enviously, avoiding looking at Bucky. 

“Thanks,” he said, flagging the server down and putting a hand to his chest. “Like I said, whatever you want. It’s on me.”

You picked a light meal, knowing there was a high chance you couldn’t stomach something heavy. Your mom chose the highest priced meal, which Bucky merely smiled expectantly. Your dad had the good sense to not do the same. It would’ve been nice if they asked how you were or gave some sort of indication that they cared.

“How did you two meet?” your dad asked to break the tension, which only made you nervous all over again.

“My club, and I very much fell for her first,” Bucky answered easily and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I knew she was the one the moment I laid eyes on her.”

“Club?” your mom questioned. “Since when do you go to clubs?”

“It was for Addison’s bachelorette party,” your boyfriend answered for you, smiling again. “You know Addison, don’t you? I would hope so. She’s practically family to her.”

You took a sip of your water and said nothing as your parents looked more uncomfortable with each passing second. The air was awkward to say the least.  Bucky, on the other hand, looked over the moon one second and ready to kill the next. It had to be giving your parents whiplash.

“She’s a good friend,” your mom said, her smile shaky. “How’s the shop?” she asked, changing the subject.

“The shop’s great,” you said and found yourself smiling since you did love the place and your job. “Mrs. Crandle is still a great boss and-”

“And you’re still just a florist,” she cut you off dismissively with a shake of her head, wiping your smile away. “You could’ve been so much more.”

Your eyes glossed over, but you held your head high. “There’s nothing wrong with me being a florist, and I am more.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Ease up,” your dad whispered to your mom, shocking you both. Since when was he not on her side? Or was it because Bucky glared at them?

“Just a florist.” The man beside you chuckled, a dark and empty sound. “Tell them about the idea you told me about earlier today.”

The knot filled your stomach so much that you feared you’d get sick. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you said, not wanting to hear what they had to say since they never backed you up on anything.

“But it’s a great idea,” he assured you, giving your parents a smile. “Wait until you hear it.”

Your dad leaned forward and appeared interested. Was it for show? “What is it?” 

Bucky nodded, encouraging you to speak up. “I went through something recently,” you said carefully, not wanting to blurt it out. “And it made me realize I want to help others and build a support system for women who have been through things.”

Your parents looked at each other as you held your breath. “That sounds ambitious,” your dad said just as carefully as you. “I realize you have good intentions, but…”

“You can’t just up and decide you want to run a charity,” your mom said, laughing and tapping her finger on the table when Bucky gripped his water glass. “You need more than just good intentions. You need experience and funding, which you have none of.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you expected. They wanted you to be more, but offered no encouragement when you tried. 

“Aren’t you even going to ask what I went through?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. For the first time, your mom looked worried. “Someone-”

“They don’t deserve to know.” Bucky took a sip before he gently set the glass down, making you eye him warily. He looked like he was ready to explode. “She isn’t just deciding, by the way. She has volunteer experience and she’s going to formulate a plan. And what she may lack in other ‘experiences’, she has passion, heart, and drive. It’s a shame you're too blind to see that.”

Your mom shrank back in her seat, looking as small as you felt. “I didn’t mean-”

“And as far as funding, I’ll be helping her with that since I don't expect either of you to lend her a thing. She has her own money, too. You just didn't know it,” he explained, bitterly laughing again at their shocked expressions. “Jesus Christ. You’re her parents. You should be proud of her. She’s loved by everyone she meets and she has thrived without your support.” He let that hang in the air before he continued. “She has more character in her finger than you two have in your entire body and I will back her up on anything and everything she needs because I believe in her.”

You placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh to ground him, your eyes welling with tears again. You were torn between not wanting him to cause a scene and for him to keep speaking because it just felt nice to hear. It felt pathetic and empowering, a strange combination. 

“I just wanted you to support and love me,” you whispered, your chest aching at finally saying the words. “Why didn't you?”

Why did it hurt so much that you didn't have the love you needed?

Your dad leaned back like you slapped him while your mom didn't move. “We did and do love you,” he swore, looking to his wife for help when Bucky scoffed in disbelief. “Tell her.”

He shouldn't have to tell her that.

“We just wanted you to have direction,” your mom said, flinching when Bucky leaned forward with one elbow on the table. She couldn't even say she loved you. 

“She has always had direction. You just never bothered to look where she was going,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous. “Though I guess your lack of support helped build her into the woman I love, so I almost wonder if I should thank you for not being who she needed.”

“I’m not going to sit here and let you continue to insult us,” your dad said since your mom was rendered speechless for once. 

You almost warned your dad that Bucky wasn't the kind of man to mouth off to, but didn't. 

“You know, I think I know now why you wanted to become a florist,” Bucky said as if he didn’t hear him. “You’re surrounded by warmth and brightness and you get to watch things bloom and grow and thrive because you never had that.”

You blinked away your tears. Bucky saw what they didn’t. You didn’t have to point it out.

“We do love our daughter, even if we didn't show it in the best way,” your dad argued, trying to take your hand across the table, but Bucky pulled you back. It was another brick added to the wall to keep people he didn’t want near you out.

“You didn’t love her enough and you never will.” He took his wallet out and threw some money on the table, more than enough to cover the meals that hadn’t yet arrived at the table. “Thank God I love her enough for all of us and I always will.”

Your mom sniffled. You hardly ever saw her cry. “I…” She trailed off when your boyfriend tossed more money on the table. 

“That should cover the rest of your time here in the city. Take it. Or don’t. But I’m not going to sit here and play nice with people who make my future wife feel low about herself.” He pushed himself up and let your parents see just how large and imposing he was. “Just leave her alone the way you always have.”

They were good at leaving you alone. 

“Please,” your dad begged, making you pause. “We’re sorry.”

“Empty apologies mean nothing,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowed. “Oh, and as it stands, I don’t want you at our wedding, but maybe your loving daughter will change my mind.”

“Wedding?!” your mom exclaimed. 

“Yes, she’s going to be my wife and have a wonderful life with me.” He smiled when you didn't disagree. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Bucky helped you up from the table and led you away, not even letting you look back when you heard your mom choke on a sob. They didn’t chase after you. They never would.

Your steps felt heavy. Your head spun. It was a relief that they knew how you felt in some capacity, but you didn't feel much better. Why not?

“They’re the past and I’m your present and future,” your boyfriend whispered, slipping an arm around you when you bit your lip. “I’m the family you need.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” you said, making him preen. 

“I’ll always defend and stick up for you,” he promised, his grip possessive. “And I'm proud of you.”

What was there to be proud of? No, you wouldn't think like that. You were a good person, and a survivor. Your parents and their lack of support and care wouldn't take that from you.

“But I didn’t even get to tell them what happened.” What if they had wanted to help? They weren’t loving, but you were still their daughter and your mom had looked worried for a second.

“You don’t need them. Not when you have me,” he said, leaving no room to argue when he nodded to Ray and Curtis who hovered nearby. “And I won't let them hurt you ever again.”

You should’ve known lunch with your parents meant Bucky would close the door. You would have no choice but to move forward. And you didn't know what that meant except that you were now one step closer to being entirely his. 

This chapter took a lot out of me! As a mom who wants to show nothing but love and support to my babies (and protect them), I want to wrap Kotyonok in a huge hug. Where do we think they'll go from here? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cap-trio]

promised to another | part six (finale)

chapter summary: You and Steve finally address the elephant in the room. Then Nat helps you go after what you really want -- Bucky.

pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings: Fighting, mention of divorce

word count: 2.1k

note: The final part is here! Thank you to everyone who stuck around this long, any support has meant the world. :) I hope you guys enjoy - and be sure to keep an eye out for future fics if you liked this series!

series masterlist | read on ao3

part six: your ivy grows, and now i'm covered in you

“And where have you been?”

You freeze like you’re a teenager getting caught sneaking back home by your parents. 

“Just on a walk.”

“For almost three hours?” 

“It’s a nice day out,” you shrug. But Steve doesn’t drop it.

“I tried calling and texting you. Why didn’t you tell me where you were?”

You pull your phone out and wince at the several unseen notifications. “I lost track of time. It’s not a big deal.”

Steve sighs, rubbing at the tension forming at his temple. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not following,” you say truthfully. Yes, you were really with Bucky, but nothing happened. Not officially anyway. But bringing up how you’ve been feeling about him doesn’t seem worth it, not when you’re still uncertain about what you want. 

“Who were you with this morning?”

“A friend.”

He takes a deep breath in, trying to steady himself. He’s never raised his voice with you before, and even though he’s growing frustrated by your vague answers, he’s not going to start now. 

“Which friend?”

“Steve, why does it matter? I’m sorry I didn’t look at my phone or tell you where I was. It’s not the end of the world.” 

“Just answer the question! Do you not understand how suspicious you’re being right now?” He huffs. 

“I was with Bucky, okay? And honestly, I didn’t think you’d even care that I was gone.” 

The confession was meant to get some weight off your chest, but the way Steve’s looking at you adds about ten extra pounds. You can sense the fight coming and you aren’t prepared. This isn’t how things are supposed to be.

“Bucky,” he repeats, like the word tastes disgusting in his mouth. “As in your ex boyfriend, Bucky?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, so you just nod. A beat passes and the silence makes your skin crawl. It’s the feeling right before a storm comes, when the sky is bright blue but you can see the dark clouds following right behind. This has been building since he left; the fight you didn’t have that night had to happen at some point. You were hoping to avoid it entirely, but maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is what needs to happen for you both to move on and go back to how things were.

“And when did you two reconnect?”

“While you were gone.”

“Real convenient.” He laughs humorlessly. 

“Nothing happened between us,” you say defensively. “We’re just friends.”

“I don’t buy that, or else you wouldn’t have been so elusive about it.” He pauses in thought. “When I called you that one day and you didn’t answer, you said you were at the movies with Nat. But you were with him, weren’t you?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you love him?” Steve bites out. 

“Steve,” you plead. “Don’t. Can’t you just believe me?”

“Answer the question.”

“I…I don’t know,” you answer, voice sounding small. 

“Then what are we doing here?” He questions. You stare at him, silently asking him to go on. “I mean, you can’t say with one hundred percent certainty that you don’t love your ex and I’m supposed to, what, be okay with that?”

Him trying to turn this around and make it your fault sets a burst of anger off inside you.

“Just like I was supposed to be okay with you deciding for the both of us that we’re taking a break? You didn’t even try, Steve. I was the only one making any sort of effort even before you left. How is that fair for me?” 

“I can’t believe you’re trying to compare cheating to me working myself to the bone for us,” he scoffs. “I was exhausted, so excuse me if I wasn’t up for a few date nights.”

“I didn’t cheat!” You shout. You never yell like this, but everything you’ve been holding in is spilling out faster than you can keep up. “And it wasn’t a few nights, it was all of them. Did you even miss me while you were gone? Because it sure didn’t feel like it.”

“Emotional cheating is still cheating,” he argues. “And I did…at first.” It feels like he dropped a bomb. You would’ve preferred that to this conversation. 

“And I’m supposed to be okay with that?” You parrot his question from earlier. “Why did you even come back then?”

“I thought it would rekindle the spark. I really did think the time away would work, but when I realized it wasn’t, I pushed you away,” he confesses. 

“You pushed me away.” It’s not a question. You need to repeat the words for them to fully sink in. You have to process what he just admitted to. In a way, you feel relieved for finally having an answer to everything. But you also feel empty. Numb. “And then you strung me along?”

Steve nods. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. Because what comes next is the scariest part, and neither of you are ready to get there yet. But you know you need to just rip the band-aid off, tired from the fighting and tip-toeing what needs to be said.

“Does this mean it’s over? That we’re done?”

“Yeah,” he answers, sounding defeated. “I guess so.”

And just like that, your marriage is over, crumbling in front of your eyes. You can’t forgive him for letting you believe the break could work after he knew it wouldn’t. He can’t forgive you for seeing Bucky behind his back, even if nothing physical happened, because there’s a possibility you fell in love with someone else. There’s no going back.

“So what do we do?”

He scratches the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “I…guess we find a divorce lawyer?”

Divorce. The word hangs heavy in the air. 

“Right, yeah. Okay.” You can’t form complete sentences. It’s like you’re standing outside of yourself watching this all unfold.

“We don’t have to rush it,” Steve assures. “We can take our time.”

“What’s the point? It’s decided. Might as well get it over with.”

Taking our time would just delay the inevitable and drive you crazy over the possibility that maybe he’ll change his mind, or you’ll realize you don’t have feelings for Bucky and it was just an effect of seeing an old love again. But you know that’s not the case, and once Steve makes up his mind there’s no changing it.

“Yeah. You’re right. Let’s at least sleep on it, okay? I’ll uh, I’ll take the couch tonight.”

You don’t even want to be in the same room as him, let alone the same apartment. “Okay. I’m just gonna spend the rest of the day in our – uh, the bedroom.” 

Steve just nods and watches you retreat to the other room. Later that night when you think he’s fallen asleep, you finally allow yourself to cry. 

Weeks pass by in a blur of lawyer meetings, packing your things, and breaking the news to family and friends. Bucky calls and texts, but you don’t answer. You can’t tell him, not yet. He’ll ask what happened, and how can you tell him that you couldn’t answer Steve’s question about loving Bucky? What will that mean for the two of you?

After two weeks of silence from you, Bucky knows he fucked up. Why did he kiss your cheek? It seemed like a friendly enough gesture at the time, but there’s too much history for it to just be that. He knew it when he did it, but he couldn’t stop himself. And now he’s ruined things. Again.

Nat shows up a few days after the divorce was finalized to find you yet again wallowing in pity. She was the first one you called and spilled everything too, including all the details about Bucky. 

“Okay, I’m going to suggest something maybe a little controversial,” she says before joining you on the couch.

“Go on.”

“I think you need to talk things out with Bucky, including what Steve said. You deserve to be happy, and I think that means being with him. Or at least having him as a friend.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” You ask. “Everything with Steve is still fresh, and I’m not even sure how I feel about Bucky.”

Nat laughs. “Oh honey, I think you do. But you’re scared, and that’s understandable. I don’t think it’s too soon, because to be blunt, it feels like you and Steve broke up a while ago.”

She’s right. Even before he suggested a break, it felt like things were over. If Steve could decide to take a break for himself, maybe it’s time you do something for yourself.

“I think you’re right. I need to see him.” You go to stand up but Nat stops you.

“Maybe shower first?” 

You roll your eyes but laugh for the first time in weeks. It makes you feel a little bit lighter, like things will eventually be okay.

When Bucky hears a knock on the door, you’re the last person he’s expecting on the other side.

“H-hi,” he stammers, mentally kicking himself for not saying something cooler.

“Hi.”

A minute passes. Then another. You’re starting to second guess your decision until he comes to his senses. “Sorry, come in.”

You follow behind him and he gestures for you to take a seat on the couch. “Want something to drink?” He asks.

“Just water, thanks.”  

He returns with two glasses of water and takes a seat in the armchair next to you. “Is everything okay? I got worried after I stopped hearing from you.”

“Steve and I got divorced,” you blurt out, almost like the words were punched out of you. 

Bucky’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He pauses and shakes his head. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course you aren’t okay.”

“I’m working my way up to being there, but I’m doing better than I expected,” you shrug. “I don’t think it’s fully hit me; it’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

“You aren’t mad at me?” 

His brows furrow. “Why would I be?”

“Because I ghosted you.”

“Of course I’m not mad at you for that. I figured you had a reason, and to be honest I thought I was the reason. If anything, I’m mad at myself.”

“Buck, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I thought…I thought when I kissed your cheek after the game that I crossed a line and scared you off,” he says guiltily. 

“Honestly Bucky, I think we both crossed that line well before that.”

He blinks. Opens his mouth, then closes it, trying to digest what you’re saying. 

“But I thought you said –”

“I know,” you interrupt. “I lashed out because I was scared. Scared of how I felt, scared of what that meant for my marriage, scared to try again with you. And I’m still terrified as hell, but I know what I want.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “And I want you.”

His face lights up just like it did at the coffee shop, but you slowly watch it falter. Your heart sinks down to your feet. 

“I don’t – I can’t be a rebound. I can’t worry that one day you’ll start to resent me because I played a part in your divorce.”

“Buck, you’re not a rebound. And my marriage fell apart for a lot of reasons, and none of that is your fault. Steve asked me if I love you, and at first I didn’t know. But I do now, and I know that I love you.”

That brings the sparkle back to his eyes. He laughs like he can’t believe this is really happening. “You love me,” he repeats. 

“Don’t make me say it again, you tease.”

“Good, because I love you too. Honestly, I don’t think I ever stopped.”

“I don’t either.”

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

“Yes,” you breathe.  

He’s on you in an instant. Your permission was like a dam bursting open and he’s the water rushing out, not being able to hold back anymore. Kissing him is even better than before, and he remembers exactly what you like. It feels like a million firecrackers are shooting off inside you, and his hands leave tiny sparks everywhere they touch. He’s been dreaming about this moment for years and the craving grew unbearable the second you called his name at the cafe.

You finally pull back and rest your forehead against his, needing a second to catch your breath. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughs.

“I know.”

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you again. Just a peck this time, but it elicits the same response.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

tag list: @kittieboo - @valyriantarg - @vicmc624

[buckyshoneybunny]

The White Wolf (Part 5)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader   

W.C. 1564 

Warnings- Cursing, fluff, allusions to smut?? 

A/N- I am so sorry this took so long!!! I didn’t know how I wanted to end it. Yes, this is the end of this series, I may write little drabbles and oneshots for these two on how their future goes. But between classes, no motivation, and being tired I just haven’t had much time to write. I was gonna do this last week but I had a mysterious 4-day long headache that even migraine medicine couldn’t get rid of. Anyway I hope you enjoy!!! Any mistakes are mine. More stories will be coming soon!!  

Taglist- @blackbirdwitch22 @lesleurs @nelachu2423 @shadowzena43 @calwitch @laughterafter @sebastians-love @purplecolordeer

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Bucky discussed what your future would look like. You agreed to move in with him, as long as you could keep your job. He agreed begrudgingly.  

Bucky had been out with Steve doing whatever it is they did during the day, when your phone pinged with a notification. Period one-week late.  

Your blood ran cold. Were you, could you be, pregnant? A wave of nausea hits you. You and Bucky were still trying to settle into your new life together, you couldn’t possibly add a kid on top of that. Oh god, what would Bucky think? 

You grab your phone and keys, you run out the door, hoping Bucky wouldn’t smell you and come running. You made your way to Wanda’s cabin and pounded on the door. She lets you in, asking what’s wrong. 

“I think I might be pregnant,” you blurt out nervously.  

Her eyes widen. “Wow um, have you taken a test?” You shake your head. She offers to do some magic thingy to see if you’re pregnant. You are.  

“Oh god,” you groan and sit on her couch, face buried in your hands. “This can’t be happening.” 

She giggles. “What are you worried about? Everything will be fine, Y/N.” 

“Everything, Wanda! I’m still trying to come to terms with everything, I mean, I’m supposedly the mate to a half-man, half-werewolf! A month ago I didn’t even existed! And now I’m pregnant, this is ju-” 

“Y/N, calm down.” She sits next to you and rub your arm. “I know this must be scary, finding out what you thought was just fiction to be real. But Bucky will be there for you, he won’t let you go through this alone.”  

“But what if he gets bored of me? What if he’s not ready for this.” There’re tears in your eyes.  

“You’re his destined mate, Y/N. And the fact that you are pregnant with his child? He’ll be over the moon.”  

“But I’m not a werewolf, or an omega. Oh god, what will having a werewolf’s baby do to me?” You ask, panicked.  

“It doesn’t matter, you’re his mate, he’d never abandon you. I don’t know what it will do to your body, I’ve read that the side effects could be worse or you could have crazy different symptoms then what you’d have with a normal pregnancy.” You look even more worried.  

She thinks for a moment. “I haven’t tested it but I’ve been working on something.” She stands and walks to her desk. “If you and Bucky coat your teeth with this and claim each other, you should be able to feel the connection, and the more time goes on, the more your body will get omega features.”  

She hands you the bottle and touches your neck, something zaps you. 

“Ow! What the hell?” You ask, rubbing said spot. 

“There, you have the start of a scent gland, it could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days to fully develop.” She snickers at the dirty look you send her. 

“So....with the scent gland and this, potion? I’ll slowly become an omega.” 

She nods. “Yes, but you won’t be a werewolf. Unfortunately, I haven’t found any magic that could turn into one.” You nod.  

You chat with Wanda for a little while longer before heading home. When you see Bucky isn’t back yet you grab your wallet and head into town. You head to the local supermarket, you grab a little gift bag, a newborn onesie that says ‘I love my Daddy’, and some tissue paper. You also grab some chocolate, munching on it to help calm your nerves.  

You get home and set the little bag up, then start on dinner. You use the fresh herbs and veggies from the pack garden, they have just about everything in there, even sugar canes! 

You get the fireplace going and put on some soft music, hooking your phone up to the speakers Bucky installed when he learned you loved music.  

Bucky trudges up the steps, his shoulders aching. He and the guys had been working on clearing land, they wanted to make their own shops and whatnot, to limit having to go into town. He leaves his muddy boots outside, not wanting to track it into the house.  

He walks in and is hit with the scent of a home cooked meal and you. He sighs at the warmth the fireplace is giving off and smiles when he hears you humming to the music. He stands there and watches you for a moment before coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You jump but relax when you realize it’s him. He buries his face into your neck and freezes.  

“Babydoll?” He asks, his voice gravelly. 

You turn in his arms to face him. “Yes?” You ask nervously.  

“What is this?” He cups the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the spot in question.  

“A scent gland, Wanda gave me it. It’s surprise 1 of 3.”  

His face is unreadable for a moment before a groan rumbles through his chest and he leans down to nose at the scent gland. He nips it, causing you to shiver. 

“Tell me,” he licks your ear before nibbling on it. “Are you one of the surprises?” 

“No,” you giggle. “But I can be an add-on.” 

He hums and presses his nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I love you,” he says softly. 

At your whispered ‘I love you too’ he feels warmth spread through his chest. He nudges your nose with his. 

“When will I get these other surprises?” 

“After dinner.”  

He hums and gives you a loving kiss. He showers while you finish dinner.  

As you set the table, he comes out in those grey sweatpants you love so much hung low on his hips. His already half-hard cock visible, making it clear he has no underwear on. He’s shirtless, displaying those washboard abs you love so much. 

You both eat dinner in silence, he can sense you’re nervous. You both clean the dishes, while he finishes wiping the counters down you grab the gift bag.  

You sit on the couch and hand him the bag. He blindly reaches in and pulls out the potion first. 

“What’s this?” His brows furrow in confusion. 

“It’s a potion. Wanda said to both coat our teeth when we claim each other, it’ll help me feel the bond and feel it lock in place. I’d be one step closer to an actual omega and connected to you.”  

His eyes shine with excitement and lust. “You’d want to be an omega?” You can hear the joy in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “But I won’t become a werewolf.” He deflates a little but nods, the thought of running through the woods in y'all's wolf together running through his mind. 

“What made you want to become an omega?” 

“Well, I wanted to feel the connection that you’ll feel, feel even closer to you. Plus, it’ll also help my body with what’s to come.” He gives you a confused look and you nod to the bag. He pulls out the onesie. As he reads it, his heart stops and eyes widen.  

“Babydoll....are you.... pregnant?” 

You nod. “I know we haven’t been together long and we’re still adjusting. Bu-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss. He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m going to be a dad?” His steel blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. 

You cup his stubbly cheeks. “You’re going to be a dad, Bucky,” you whisper. Your own eyes glisten with tears.  

He laughs and hugs you. His heart swells with pride. You, his mate, is going to have his pups. 

He makes love to you that night, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He gushes excitedly to Steve the next day and rubs the news into Sams face. Everyone congratulates you over a barbeque. Bucky already has plans of how he wants to expand the cabin, add on for your future family. You’re already planning on how you want to decorate the nursery. 

Seven months later..... 

You sit in the rocking chair in your new nursery. You watch your husband with a fond smile as he puts the crib together, insisting he wanted to hand make everything. The pile of gifts from your baby shower sits in the corner, ready to be put away.  

You can feel Bucky’s excitement, the permanent bite mark on both yours and Bucky’s neck sealing the bond. You rub your swollen belly, the ring on your finger shines in the sunlight that streams through the window. 

You couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl, Winfred, Winnie for short, after Bucky’s mother. He talks about her all the time; you know he misses her and the fact you’re naming you guys first daughter after her means the world to him. You knew that’s what you wanted to name her the minute he said her name, he cried when you told him. 

As you rock and listen to the music playing softly in the background, you think of how grateful you are you went into the forest, choosing to not listen to the locals warnings.  

You may not know what the future hold next, but you do know one thing, you couldn’t wait to find out. 

[covetyou]

nothing left to prove

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos, Joel x Tess x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: voyeurism (consensual and not), cuckolding/cuckquean, unprotected PIV, oral sex (m recieving), masturbation, praise kink, brief spit kink, little bit of choking (as a treat), bisexual reader, asshole Joel, no use of y/n word count: 5.8k summary: Some risks are worth taking.

A/N: this is the last in my planned oneshots for SWAT this month! if you have any uh... 👀 questions, comments or concerns, my ask box is open. I love you all, and thank you so much for welcoming SWAT back with open arms.

title from movement by hozier.

divider by @saradika-graphics

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Like most things where Joel was concerned, you're not entirely sure what made you do it.

One minute you were walking down the street - the bustling midday crowd rushing from one job to another, stopping by street vendors if they were lucky enough to have the cards to trade - and the next, you were mindlessly heading in the opposite direction.

It's not like you didn't know not to follow him. He'd warned you before - men in his line of work were always the target of something, and following after him, even acknowledging him in public, made you a target too. It was dangerous, and it was stupid.

Still, you did it anyway.

Without thinking, you had turned and followed, hands tucked into your pockets and collar drawn up over your face in an effort to keep back the bitter chill of wind. There was something too enticing about seeing Joel swagger down the street with someplace he clearly had to be. Something so enticing you couldn't resist. Even from the distance he was rapidly putting between you, you could tell it was him. Your eyes were locked onto his broad frame as it parted the stream of footfall, and his long, heavy strides carried him further and further away from you.

It was a fight, walking upstream through a throng of people going the direction you should've been, but you made it out of the other side and hurried down the sidewalk after him, barely a few minutes behind if your shorter strides were anything to go by.

Out of nowhere, he slinked down an alley, stealthy despite his size. You stalled on the corner of the block once you reached it. In any version of reality you'd been taught to keep away from places like this if you knew what was good for you. Things lurked in the shadows that you didn't want to encounter, and yet, here you were, embodying stupid as you contemplate throwing yourself down a dark alley after a man who was nothing but trouble.

You're still going to do it, of course. Nothing could stop you now, even as you waited with impatient jitters in your hands for an older couple to shuffle past.

Then, the way is clear and you can finally slink down the same alley Joel had turned down not five minutes before. He could have been long gone, of course. That probably would have been for the best.

But he wasn't.

A familiar Texan drawl tells you as much. There's no tinge of threat to it, just casual chat from what you can piece together, so you slip further down the alley and into the shadows. You make careful steps, trying to be silent as you step over rubble, until you reach the mouth of another alley and tuck yourself tight against the wall.

You hear him clearer from here. Whatever he's saying in the darkness sounds positively encouraging, and then you hear the other voice. Softer. More delicate. More breathless too.

Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you finally turn and peek down the alley to see the tall sillhouette of Joel pushing up against the much smaller one of someone else as they're pressed against the wall. He presses forward, and the gasp you hear tells you all you need to know. The rattle of his belt confirms it. Then, with a slow grind of his hips, he keeps on a steady pace as he fucks her right in the alleyway where anyone could watch - you're watching after all.

And you can't tear your eyes away.

The snap of his hips gets quicker, shallower, the longer you stare. His hand had long disappeared around her front, probably to rub tight circles over her clit as you peak around the corner of the alleyway. Her arms move, fists balling tight by her head, opening and flexing, gripping the worn brick as Joel works himself in and out of her from behind.

He's whispering too. No doubt talking filth in her ear, spurring them both on as he thrusts in and out of her wet heat. You're entranced by the muffled sounds of it all - the heavy rustle of his jeans, the soft whimpers, moans, and groans - and soon your core is clenching as you watch with debauched curiousity.

You stand there against the wall, watching, as minute after minute ticks by. And then, the biting wind comes back, this time carrying a high pitched moan towards you, and you try to focus on the shape of her in the darkness as she shakes against the wall, barely keeping herself upright as she comes around Joel's cock.

But, instead of plowing onwards, fucking her until she walks away with him dribbling down her leg, he delicately pulls out. You hear praise mumbled into her hair, where he kisses her, before he turns in your direction to tuck his still-hard cock back into his pants.

Your heart is pounding, you realize, when you throw yourself around the corner to hide from him. He hadn't seen you. Neither of them had. You were sure of it. Then when you hear the murmured sounds of thanks followed by footsteps, you peer back down the alley.

Only to watch as Joel's eyes flick up to yours in the darkness just as his fly zips, and you scurry away knowing you'll pay for whatever this was later.

The note had come through your door before you'd even got home that day. You knew it was from Joel before you even opened it, and when you finally did in the darkness of your room after stuffing it into your pocket so your dad wouldn't see, your heart had practically jumped out of your mouth.

my place. friday. hour before curfew. don't be late.

J.

So, here you were, a little before an hour before curfew in an apartment block across town from yours. Being here was risky - who knows how long you'd be inside - but it was a risk worth taking as far as you were concerned. You didn't even have to knock as you approached his familiar door - it opens as soon as your feet step outside of it to reveal a stern looking Joel Miller.

"Get your ass in."

He doesn't wait for you, doesn't usher you inside or pull at your clothes. He simply moves inside and stands there, back turned, arms across his chest, waiting for you to close yourself into his space.

Whatever you'd expected when you held that note, even going as far as touching yourself thinking about what was to come, the silent treatment never came to mind. Joel didn't do silent - not with you, anyway. He always had something to say and was always ready to make sure you knew it. Now, he was stood there, silent and stoic as ever. You watch the rise and fall of his shoulders for a moment, before an anxious ripple pulls its way through you and you're speaking to the back of his head.

"I'm sorry, I -"

"Y'ain't," Joel says, turning to look at you with a scowl on his face. "Knew exactly what you were doin' - you ain't fuckin' dumb, sweetheart. Or maybe you are, given how fuckin' stupid it is to pull that shit with me."

He steps toward you then, closing the vast distance between you in just a few strides.

"You've been gettin' bold. Bold means stupid, and stupid gets you killed. Now, I don't give a shit how you are with me in here. Out there you don't know me, you don't even look at me, and you sure as fuck don't follow me."

"Am I not allowed to -"

"No," he says simply, and you snap your mouth shut just as Joel pulls open your jacket and peels it off your shoulders, daring you to stop him as he stares daggers into your eyes.

"I didn't mean to -"

"Get caught?" he finishes, raising an eyebrow at you as he tosses your jacket to the side and kicks lightly at your feet to prompt you to take off your boots.

For once, Joel is wrong. Massively, glaringly, wrong. You did mean to get caught. You realized as much the second the smile spread across your face after reading his note. You realized too that you liked more than just the promise of Joel's threat to you when your fantasies of his stern words and rough hands had turned into watching that scene in the alleyway all over again.

And maybe he knows all of that too, because one second you're standing sheepishly in his living room and the next he's pulling you toward him and growling in your ear.

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

You shake your head, breathing him in now that he's so close you're practically chest to chest.

"If you wanna watch so fuckin' bad..." he starts as he tugs you further forward, pulling you into him as he steps back and back until you find yourself in his lamplit bedroom.

It's different. Not noticeably, at first, but then you see it.

In the corner is a chair, dragged in from its usual place at Joel's the dining table. There's barely room to walk around it, but Joel hauls you over to it anyway and pushes down on your shoulders.

"You're gonna sit your ass there and watch," he says as your knees buckle and your ass collides with the chair. "Got it?"

Dumbstruck, you blink up at him. You don't know what's happening. You don't know what you're going to be watching, here in this room with no one but you and Joel. There's something very big, and maybe very obvious, that you're missing, but before you can search your brain for the answer, he's pinching your chin and forcing you into an exaggerated nod. 

"I said, got it?"

You continue to nod and trail your eyes after Joel as he strolls back out of the room, leaving you perched there on the edge of the seat. You're in half a mind to follow him, but then a knock on the door startles you and you listen out as voices carry through the open doorway. 

It's Tess. You're sure of it. You'd only met her twice, but she wasn't exactly a person you forgot easily, and your late-night fantasies certainly wouldn't let it happen either. They spend a few minutes talking while your mind runs away with itself, their soft voices too light for you to hear where you sit, forgotten, in Joel's bedroom.

Their hushed conversation turns to something else as you listen, and the heavy sound of clothing hitting the floor reaches your ears and it's all you can do to keep yourself rooted to the spot. You said you'd sit, sure, but from here you can't watch anything, you can just wait in anticipation as the sounds of groaning and clothing being stripped off gets louder and louder.

You see Joel first. It's impossible not to as he's pushed backwards into the room by Tess, shirtless and belt hangling loose around his waist. And then you see her, clothes seemingly intact and her lips attached to his, hands grappling with his shoulders and scraping red trails down his bare chest until the gasp you were trying to contain slips out from your mouth.

She looks to you, lips swollen and hand steadily trailing back up Joel's chest until it clasps softly around his neck.

"Didn't tell me I'd be sharing," she says, and you watch as she grips the thick column of his throat beneath her deceptively strong fingers.

He swallows, hard, just about stifling a groan. "You ain't. She's stayin' right there. Ain't you?"

With wide eyes, you snap your mouth shut and nod.

"That right? You like watching, pretty girl?" Tess says, her eyebrows high as she leans into Joel, his thick fingers finding her waist.

You nod again, taking them in as they press into each other, and try to bite down the pang of jealousy that creeps through you. It's not that you want them to stop. Not at all. You do want to watch. You've never been more certain of anything. You want to see them, you want to be here as they come apart. You'd give anything to trade places with either of them, too, you think, but mostly, what you want is to slot yourself right between both of them.

Instead, you're stuck here on this fucking chair, uncomfortable and antsy as their hands roam and she tugs down Joel's jeans.

"Likes doin' as she's told, too," he groans, as Tess's hand makes it way down to the front of his boxers and squeezes the lump you'd been desperately trying to avoid looking at.

"Sounds like someone I know."

She laughs. She laughs, and it's all you can do to keep yourself on that fucking chair, not throwing yourself on the floor at their feet and begging that they let you join in. They might even let you, you consider. But you also knew there wouldn't be the same satisfacation in that. You wouldn't be able to savor and hold onto every sound and movement, keeping it locked away in your mind until later, if you were too fucked out and silly with it to know which way was up and which was down. And fuck did you want to watch Joel do all the things to her you wished he'd do to you, the things you wish you could do to her too.

So, you were going to do as you were told. You were going to be good. And you were going to watch.

When you nod again, Tess rewards you by pressing a kiss to Joel's mouth, and you can feel as you almost chase it with your own lips.

"You're gonna sit there," she says, pressing another kiss to his mouth, "and you're gonna keep watching, pretty girl. And keep those hands right where I can see 'em."

Planting your hands on your thighs, you watch Joel kick off his pants, standing now in nothing but boxers. Tess presses him back, pushing until he stumbles into his bed and lets himself collpase down onto it and shift back until he's resting on his elbows. Your eyes dart between them. She's practically eating him alive, hooking her own fingers into her jeans and pulling them down as Joel palms himself over his boxers. Then, in one elegant move, she flicks her pants off and climbs over the bed onto him, spreading her legs wide as she settles herself down onto his stiff cock.

Joel bites his cheek, keeping his hands soft on her creamy thighs as she rolls her hips over and over his, grinding her cunt against his length. He doesn't move. Doesn't pull her shirt off or force her down harder with a bruising grip to her thighs. He simply lets her use him until she's panting on top of him, his toes twitching and curling as he stifles his own moans.

Falling forward, her hair briefly shields them from you. You can hear it though. The wet, appreciative sounds of their mouths working against each other, tongues lapping against one another while Tess rocks back and forth across his length where it's trapped between them.

"You're gonna fuck me, Texas," she growls into his mouth, flicking her hair to her other shoulder so now you can see the flush that's rising up Joel's neck. "And make it good."

He flips her with a grunt, rolling her over easily and slotting himself between her spread thighs. You're breathing heavy as you watch on with hazy eyes, imagining the feel of him between your own thighs, or her hair over your shoulder as she kisses you, making biting kisses into your neck.

And then, when your eyes focus on the room once more, his boxers are gone and you're staring at the back of Joel, completely nude, and it has you suddenly sitting up straighter. Even with his hand pressed somewhere between her thighs, drawing out soft moans from her, all you can focus on is his back.

You're not unfamiliar with it, of course. You've seen him nude before. But you've never seen him like this, splayed out over the top of someone with one leg hitched up as he slowly rolls his hips and grinds his bare cock over a clothed pussy. You've never seen the way his back ripples and his ass flexes with each rock forward, or the way he keeps his toes curled as he moves. You've never seen that silvery scar to his side either, visible only by the angle he's in in the lamplight.

You've never seen him with thighs wrapped around his waist either, pinning him down to another body while soft hands snake around his back. It could be you. But it's not. It's her, and that's somehow better and worse all at once.

Tess groans and tilts her head back, letting her grip around his shoulders slip to slide her own hand down between them, replacing his.

His own fingers are glistening when he pulls them away from her core. If you could move you'd lick them clean, taste her off of them, but you're stuck here watching, balling impatient fists on your thighs. And then, he's shifting into position, letting Tess tilt her hips until he's right there, and he presses forward, slipping into her wet hole with a groan.

"Fuck, that's it, make me come."

It's hot in here. You're listening to Tess say the filthy things Joel usually says to you, and it is so fucking hot in here.

So hot, you realize, that your cheeks are burning and your hands are sweating where they fidget on your thighs, and when Joel thrusts home, deep, and Tess cries out, you moan with them, and it's like they've just remembered you're there.

They turn and look at you, Tess's eyes catching yours first, but Joel soon following. But then she's dragging his focus back to her.

"She's being so good, Joel," she says as he tucks his head into her neck to press soft kisses there. "Thought she'd be rubbing her cunt by now but look at her, she's doing so good."

"So fuckin' good."

You groan when he says it. You can't stop it, or the way your hands flex and want to reach out for either of them.

"She likes that. She likes being a good girl."

And you do. Even as you spread your legs wide and try not to rock into the seam of your jeans and make yourself come.

Then, as if you had never made a noise at all, Joel is pulling out and pushing in deep all over again, drawing out moan after moan from Tess.

Just like that, you're back to being the dirty voyeur in the corner. Ignored and desperate, and one second away from pleading with them to let you have a taste of something, anything. You don't. By this point, as Joel's ass flexes into the space between Tess's thighs, you don't even need to. You can almost feel every movement, every inch, right from where you're sat, fully clothed over the other side of the room. You can feel the slow stroke of his hips between yours, feel her heavy breaths tickle your cheek, the hard grind against your clit. You almost gasp when she does, and you catch yourself rocking your hips to each roll of theirs.

"Fuck, that's it, Texas," she says, as he kisses her neck again.

It's not hard to see he's different with Tess. 

He's softer, less rough, but just as hard. He's as silent as you've ever heard him, that filthy mouth stalled in his head, but also as loud as you've ever heard him be. He's grunting and groaning and panting as he fucks into her, huffing in quick breaths and goading himself on with stacatto nods of his head, desperate not to stop, to keep going, to make her come, until he's groaning frantically, pushing through the pain and ache in his muscles.

And then it hits you that maybe he is like this with you.

Maybe Joel Miller is just as fucked out and loud now as he is with you. How were you to really know - you were usually too deafened by your own screams and focussed on the feeling of him inside you, to really notice much to anything else.

He shifts her, maybe the most he's dared lay his hands on her, until you're no longer watching from somewhere behind and instead looking from the side as Joel pounds down and down into Tess's cunt, her head thrown to the side, stealing glances at you as you worry your lip with your teeth. You're breathing so hard you're almost whining, nodding whenever Tess makes a particularly deep moan that you can feel push through your own chest, until Joel looks up at you and smirks.

"Fuckin' likin' this, huh?" he groans. "That's it, sweetheart, you wanted to watch. Fuck. Fuck. Keep watchin'."

You whine then. You can't stop it, and you don't care. You're ready to sob, could probably come untouched right here if you thought about it hard enough, but you don't. You don't want that. You want to focus on the way he fucks her, and the way she sounds as she meets every thrust, because you know it's all going to be over soon.

You know, because Tess is grabbing his hand, forcing it between her legs and threading her hand through his hair and pulling a moment later.

"There. There. Ohh -"

His arm flexes and moves between them, rubbing over her clit as he slips and slides inside her. You're leaning forward in your seat now, hands gripping the edge, ready to move whenever - if ever - they give the word.

And then, with an open mouthed silent scream, she tenses beneath him, the pulsating grip of her cunt making him stutter his thrusts but never the movement of his fingers, until she falls limp, delivering a swift punch to his arm to make him stop a moment later.

So, Joel stops.

Completely.

For the second time this week, you watch as Joel doesn't come inside someone else.

He holds himself deep in her as she floats down from whatever cloud he'd just launched her to, panting and wiping sweat from his forehead. And then, when she opens her eyes, he kisses her, and you're floating right along side them in the ether, entranced by the way she pulls herself out from underneath him, and pulls her clothes back on while he watches after her, cock stiff and neglected, covered in his own precum and her slick.

You expect her to turn to Joel, but instead she rounds on you the moment she's dressed, and cups your heated cheek in her palm.

"Maybe next time I'll let him come in me and you can clean me up, pretty girl."

And with a pat to your cheek and a nod to Joel, she leaves, shouting out behind her.

"Twenty minutes, Texas. Don't be late."

"Not gonna take twenty minutes," he growls, standing and rolling his shoulders while you still sit on the chair he'd pushed you into.

He's wild eyed, staring at you as you practically drool down your own chin at the sight of him. His thick cock hangs heavy between his legs, twitching as his muscles flex and contract. His fists ball tight by his sides, eyes dark as he looks down at you, sitting still and obedient and good right where he left you. You can smell the sweat on him, smell how much he smells like Tess, and you want nothing more than to roll yourself in the sheets they'd just made a mess off.

"Bring that mouth over here," he grunts, beckoning you over with two fingers that had been buried in Tess not long ago.

You let out a desperate sigh of relief as you slip to your knees right from the chair and make an upright crawl the short distance to Joel and his weeping cock. He smells just like you remembered she tasted like. Sweet, tangy, musky. And then, he nods down at you, and you take your first tentative lick of his slick coated length, and you're groaning, holding on to his thighs to steady yourself.

His hand finds the back of your head, stroking briefly at your neck, sending prickles across your heated skin. Despite the sweat, his hands somehow feel cooler than you, and the sensation of them on your skin somehow grounds you, holds you back from falling into a heap and sobbing, begging, screaming in frustration. You're so pent up, that all you can do is make strangled groans as you look up at him with teary eyes as you lick over and over his cock with a broad, flat strokes of your tongue.

"That's it, that taste good?"

It does. It tastes better than it ever has. Him and her, all together. You liked how you tasted off of him, but this was something else entirely, and all the while that soft promise of next time runs rampant through your mind, stalling your moan of agreement right as it pulls out of your throat.

"Shit," he curses as you gently lick a drop of cum weeping from his tip. "Good fuckin' girl. Like that too, don't you? Can't get enough."

With a groan, he's suddenly pulled away from you, and you whine at the loss, before he's crouching in front of you, grabbing you roughly by the face and kissing you, plundering your mouth with his tongue.

"Mm!"

"So fuckin' good."

You don't know if he's talking about you, or the taste in your mouth, but you preen anyway, eyes brightening when he stands up, gripping his cock firmly in one large hand. "She creamed all over my balls too, sweetheart. Don't want to miss a drop now do you?"

Eagerly, you lap at the soft skin of his balls, swirling your tongue and groaning as you clean the taste of her off of his sack. He's slowly pumping his cock, squeezing the tip, cursing, as you work your tongue over his delicate balls, massaging them with your tongue before sucking each one into your warm, wet, mouth.

You can't help but slip a hand between your own legs as you work your tongue back and forth over him. The taste of him and her together on your tongue is sending your eyes practically rolling in your head, making you groan as you lick from his balls up the length of him and attempt to suck him down and lick every drop of her you can from his skin. Over your jeans isn't enough though, the sensations too muted by the thick fabric, so with a pop you pull yourself from Joel, look him in the eye, and tug your jeans open. Fuck, if you haven't earned at least a little bit of relief, and you stare at him, daring him to stop you as your fingers slide down and find your sopping wet cunt inside your ruined panties.

He groans when your eyes lose focus, your finger sliding over the twitching bundle of nerves that had lay neglected by not one, but three people.

"That's it. Touch that pussy while you suck me, sweetheart."

You do, swiping your finger in slow soft circles as he guides the tip of his dick back into your waiting lips. "Can still taste her, huh?" he says, when you groan at the taste of him again.

"Mhm."

"Can't get enough of it can you. Fuck you're so fuckin' desperate. Look at you. Rubbin' that little thing with my cock in your mouth."

You suck and bob your head, twirling your tongue around to taste every inch you can reach of him. You're aching, panting, grinding into your own hand as you suck him. The heat in your core is searing you, making you sweat beneath your clothes. If you had a hand to spare you'd be tearing them off of you, but you need your hand between your legs right now, and without the other to steady you, you'll be falling flat on your ass in no time.

"Finish me first," he says, noticing your desperation and the way your hips buck into your own hand. "That's it. You can come after. Fuck, that's it. So close. You wanted that pussy so bad, didn't you?"

You groan around his cock, the many ways you wanted her pussy flashing through your mind as you slide Joel's cock between your lips, until he's yanking you back, making you gasp and your fingers stop the steady circles you were making over your cunt.

"You want this too, don't you?"

"Yes," you moan, watching as he starts to jerk his cock in his fist. You don't even think as you open your mouth wide, tongue out and waiting for him to make a mess of you.

"Good fuckin' girl."

He jerks his cock faster, your saliva and Tess's cum slicking up the movement of his fist as he brings himself closer and closer. He steadies one hand at the back of your neck again, suddenly spitting down into your waiting mouth, making you groan as his spit hits your tongue and slides into your mouth.

"Keep that there. Keep that right fuckin' there."

He pants, chest heaving above you as you look between his dark eyes and the dripping head of his cock. He's so close. You can see as his muscles tense and twitch, one hand resting on his twitching thigh, the other holding off, slowly jerking your clit, until you slip your hand underneath him, cradling his balls, and gently squeeze -

Milky white spurts shoot into your mouth, his tip pressing down onto your tongue so you can taste every drop as he milks it from himself, your own hand massaging and tugging lightly on his balls until he's empty, tapping the tip on your tongue and wiping away the last remnants of the release you hold in your mouth.

"That's it. Swallow it all sweetheart."

The bitter salt of him coats your mouth as you swallow, not a drop wasted.

"You still want it?" he asks then, nodding down to your open jeans. Your own hand has stilled between your legs, fingers that were moving steadily are still now, hooked into you while you waited as promised until after you made him come. Now, the after was here, and with swollen lips and glassy eyes you nod up at him.

"Go on," he says softly, and you pull your dripping fingers from your cunt to coat your throbbing clit. "That's it. Wanna see you rub that fuckin' thing. Who you gonna come thinkin' about? Me or her?"

"Both," you gasp, pressing your face into his bare thigh, your fingers steadily building up and up the pace. "Both of you. Looked - fu - so good."

His hand strokes your hair, holding you to him while you work your fingers between your legs.

"Yeah? You liked that? Just like watchin' so fuckin' much don't you."

"Ye-eah. But," you whine. "Wantedtojoinin."

He laughs then, soft and gently above you. You don't see it. Your eyes are pressed shut and you're breathing in nothing but the smell of his skin right where his thigh meets his groin. You're ready to lose yourself in it all now. You don't care what you look like or if he's looking at you. You just care that you're pressed to him with your fingers between your legs, finally getting closer and closer to relief you'd been aching for since you saw him in that alleyway.

"Know what this proves though, don't you?" he asks, and with a harsh yank of your hair he pulls your head so you're looking directly up at him, fingers working swiftly over your clit as you gasp. "You know how to be a good girl and do what you're fuckin' told after all."

You nod, letting the drop of your head tug your own hair even more. "Yes," you say desperately. "Yes, I'll be good, I'll be good."

"Then show me. Gotta show me how good you come thinkin' about my cock in that cunt."

"Uh-huh," you nod again, and suddenly the jerk of your fingers over your clit and the thought of watching Joel's cock slide up and down Tess's slit, tasting his cum as it drips out of her hole has you exploding against your palm.

You barely hold yourself upright as you come, eyes pinched shut and jaw slack, Joel's hand in your hair probably the only thing keeping you from collapsing. And then, when the last of your orgasm has run through you, your fluttering cunt finally ceasing its twitching, Joel gently releases you, and you slump down on your knees, falling to the side until you're curled on the floor, propped up by the end of his bed.

You rest your head on his mattress and sex rumpled sheets, blissful and floating as Joel finds his clothes around you. Then, he nudges you up, murmuring encouragement as you stand and shake the fuzzy feeling out of your head.

Joel spots your look of surprise at the darkness outside. Curfew is rapidly approaching now, and if you're not careful you won't be home in time before you're free game for any FEDRA asshole that you come across.

"Still got time," he says, passing your jacket as you stuff your feet into your boots and ushering you out into the dim corridor.

To your surprise, he follows you out, throwing a bag over his shoulder before noticing your curious look.

"Won't be around for a few weeks," he explains. "Got some stuff to do."

He doesn't elaborate, and you don't ask. You don't move either, locked to the spot in front of the door as he locks it, and tucks his key away inside an inner pocket.

"And, just so we're clear, sweetheart. I don't expect to be sharin' you with anyone while I'm gone."

"You really need me to tell you I'm not gonna fuck anyone else?"

His raised eyebrow says it all, and you roll your eyes. You both know you won't, wouldn't, don't even want to, but to stroke his ego you say as much anyway, and he gives a satisfied nod.

You kiss him then, right out in the hallway before he can turn and leave, or push you away. Only, he doesn't. He never does. Never has. Probably never will. And, even out in the hallway where anyone could see, you think Joel Miller is quite a nice man to be kissing here, in an old apartment block at the end of all things.

"Keep yourself out of trouble," he murmurs into your mouth, and, before you know it, he's stalking away down the hall and, in a blink, he's gone.

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