#sent at 1 am on a Thursday

[themaninyourcomputer]

This might be my best email sign off ever.

[youremyonlyhope]

.

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[garnetislovegarnetislife]

:)))))))))

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: You thought you were the only rational serial killer in maimi but when you walk in on a certain someone from work, you realize you’re view of the world was very shallow.

Part 1

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

I hummed to myself as I walked into work, Miami Metro Police Department. In one hand was four cups of fresh coffee and in the other a donut that I’d bought for myself, I greeted the girl at the front desk, Alissa, we said a quick hello and exchanged pleasantries before I continued down the hallway towards my office. I greeted nearly everyone I saw as I passed them making idly plans to visit this person, go to that persons birthday, and go swimming with another. After three more invitations I finally managed to make it to my sweet corner of the station and was greeted by familiar faces, only Jackie looked up at me with a smile. Sterling and Josefina l exhausted after pulling an all nighter.

“Good morning, you guys look like you need this.” I set down the coffees on their desks and looked up gratefully.

“You’re a godsend mi vida, you’re the reason I live.” Josefina said as she sipped away at her coffee and I just laughed as I set down my own coffee.

“You’re welcome, how come you guys are still here?”

“I’m still finishing my report but then I’m leaving.” Sterling said stretching his arms for a bit before grabbing his coffee.

“I was on my way out, just waiting for you to get here. These are for you to give to homicide, while I am going home to sleep for five days straight.” She grabbed a box off the floor and handed it to me.

“Uhh what’s this?” I asked as I damn near dropped the box from to how heavy it was, inside there were various old looking laptops.

“These are all the new computers that need to be distributed to the homicide department, but first we need to make sure they’re all using the correct and up to date software. Heads up most of them don’t.”

“So this is what all the approved overtime was for, just great. Alright I’ve got it from here, I’ll see you Thursday Josie.” I said as I set the box on the floor beside my desk.

I waved to Josefina as she left before sitting down at my desk, I booted up my computer and checked my email for my assignments for today. There were only three thankful so I decided to get those out of the way before starting on the computers for the homicide, I sent a quick reply and stood. I grabbed my coffee and took a sip as I stepped out the office, first on the agenda was a blue screen in one of the departments upstairs. I happily sipped at my coffee as I made my way to the elevator and as I pressed the button for the next floor I heard someone call out for me to hold the elevator. I did and a guy I had seen around a few times stepped into the elevator with his bag and he thanked me smiling politely. The elevator stopped at the next floor and we both stepped out, the man went straight ahead to homicide and I watched him for a moment before heading to left to internal affairs where I’d been requested and went to see what the issue was.

Thankfully I managed to finish all my assignments and with the computers for homicide at a reasonable hour, so I still have time to start preparing for my next meal, pot roasted Roger Hicks. Full time car salesman part time scum bag, he came on my radar after his name popped up in an ongoing case. After meeting with him in person and visting his home it was clear that he was exactly the kind of scum I thought he was, and tonights was the night I take him and turn him a more refined dish. I decided to stake out at the car dealership, wait for everyone to leave then strike him just as he’s leaving.

Finally the sun had set and I knew it was time as I saw Roger leaving the office, he had his bag over his shoulder and seemed to be in a good mood. I quietly got out of my car, I doubled checked my surroundings and started to cross the parking lot towards him when he suddenly turned around. I ducked back where I was and hid behind one of the show cars and realized that there was someone behind him, I peeked out from my hiding spot planning to hide until they left Roger alone but to my surprise they started to strangle him with something I couldn’t make out from afar in the dark. I was baffled and frustrated as I couldn’t even make out the other persons face as they had their back to me, all I could do was silently watch as the took the now collapsed Roger and rolled him into their van. I was speechless and frozen in place but composed myself as they got into their car, I had to find out what they were going to do to him. I got back in my car and watched as they high tailed it out of the parking lot, I turned my car on and followed them out.

It was a short drive but I made sure to be careful that whoever this was didn’t catch me followikg them, and I watched as they pulled into the driveway of a house I recognized. One of the victims houses, Ann Cohen, a chill ran down my spine as I drove past the house and parked further up the street. I got out and walked back to the house sneaking up on the side, I tried peeking in through the windows but I couldn’t see much of anything. I was going to have to break in, I sighed and went around to the back door which to my luck was still unlocked. I was thankful I wouldn’t have to lock pick anything because I absolutely sucked at it, I entered the house quietly and shut the door behind me. The house looked relatively untouched beyond some of Ann’s things being packed up in boxes, it was saddening knowing someone so full of life had it snuffed out and tainted. The thought revived my anger reminding me why I had chosen Roger for my next meal, I should be the one killing him not doing whatever this weirdo was trying to do.

I froze as I approached the living room and saw what this mystery person had done to it, it was covered in plastic and as I stepped closer I could see pictures on the wall that I realized where Roger’s other victims. Most notably though was Roger fucking Hicks laid out bare on a table covered in plastic wrap, I crouched down and decided to watch before doing anything rash. I watch through the plastic as this mystery man talked to Roger, I still couldn’t see his face as he had again had his back to me but as he began to walk around I saw him.

“Looks different under plastic but you spent an evening here… with Ann Cohen.” He said pointing to the corner of the room, “You took her last breath from her right over there. You remember?” I barely managed to supress my gasp of surprise. I know this guy, I work with this guy.

“No! You’re- you’re wrong, I couldn’t.” Roger denied adamantly and clearly confused.

“Well you would and you did, and you were about to do it again. That’s why we’re here.”

“No, this is insane. You got the wrong guy I-I sell cars, for godsake. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life- definitely not a woman.”

“Why can’t I do that?” The man asked ignoring all of Roger’s pathetic excuses.

“Do what?”

“Lie like that. I mean I thought I was good, but you, it’s.. mwah.” He said walking away to the other side of the table grabbing something that I wasn’t able to see.

“I don’t lie!”

“Okay, that one was weak.”

Roger started to try and buy his way out offering the man but he had a rebuttal to everything he said, it was almost funny watching their interaction. Roger trying everything he could but nothing seemed to work on him, as he so easily saw through his lies. Though as Roger brought up his girlfriend things seemed to take a different turn and he had the man’s full attention, even though his words were uncaring but his body language portrayed a different picture. Roger didn’t see what I saw though and started an angry tangent about how awful women were but he wasn’t rambling on long before the man stabbed him in the chest. I took that as my cue to leave, I knew who this guy was and what his intentions are but I need to learn more I do anything rash. I stood up but my legs were weak from being on the floor for so long, I reached out to the thing neared to me and accidentally knocked over a lamp.

I turned and saw him looking directly towards me but I figured he couldn’t make out my face in the dark, I bolted out the door and back around the house. I could hear him scrambling out to follow me but he didn’t follow me for long, I figured he thought it was better to clean up after himself than chase me. I sighed and got back into my car, driving off without giving it a second thought. My heart was racing and adrenaline pumped through my veins, I had seen a lot of things as a serial killer but never something like this. Sure I’d seen organized and carefully killers before but never like that, that was the king of kill room where nothing was left behind. It was the perfect crime scene, part of me was jealous I hadn’t though of it first it was so much smarter then staying in one place where I could be found. Not that I was going to give up the cozy spot that was my morgue kill room, it was like a third home to me but I couldn’t still admire this guy’s dedication to the craft.

The drive home was quiet, I was so consumed in my thoughts I hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio. I just couldn’t get what I saw out of my mind and all yhe anger I felt over having my target stolen simply faded away, I was enamored and fascinated by him. Though I needed to do some more research as he may be another person I need to add to my grocery list, I hoped I wouldn’t have to. From his words it seemed like he had targeted Roger specifically because of what he had done to both those girls and was planning to do to another, maybe he killed murders and serial killers like me. Maybe that was me jumping the gun, but it was nice to hope because that definitely wasn’t his first time killing. My mind wandered on and on even as I started unlocking my front door, I pulled out my key and swung the door open before shutting it behind me. I carefully took off my shoes at the front door and proceeded to plop down onto my couch, a wistful sigh left my lips as I started up at the ceiling. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come as it would give me the chance to find out who this mystery guy was, for now all I knew was that he worked in homicide. Which was likely where he found Roger, I managed to get a glimpse at the case when I was restoring some files on one of the detectives computers. I wondered what he kept as a trophy for his kills, maybe he photographed them like me. After every meal I turn my victims into, I scrapebook it. Its perfectly inconspicuous and allows me to broadcast it to the whole world with no fear of someone questioning, because without context its just a compliantion of dishes I have made. Regardless it was getting late and I had work in the morning, with a groan I rolled off the couch and disappeared into my bedroom not even bothering to shower before bed.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Previous | Next

[friendoftashi]

a series of images sent in the personal bau chat | (spencer reid x bau!reader)

To: BAU Family ❤️

Monday, 11:14 am

You: hotch on vacation feet on the table!

You: wait shit this is the chat he’s in isn’t it

Hotch: :/

Penelope: who taught him that?

to: BAU Fam (No Parents)

Sunday, 10:39 am

You: so spencer wasn’t being dramatic, derek was punching too hard

Derek: looks doctored

JJ: OMG

Penelope: are you at brunch without MOI?!?!

to: BAU Fam (No Parents)

Friday, 1:22 am

Penelope: GIYSY HDS SOO BAF ST GIUATTR HROE

You: UGHDH hrs sooioo hHOT

Derek: clearly we left at the right time

Emily: send video

To: BAU Fam (No Parents)

Saturday, 9:03 am

You: pen quick send me the pictures from last night i’m not sure how much longer i have this hangover might kill me

Penelope: 4 attachments

To: JJ

Thursday, 3:08 pm

You: pickup was successful. henry was very excited to see his uncle spencer :)

JJ: awww!!! thanks again guys. we should be back before 8.

You: stay out as long as you’d like, we want another godchild 😉

[peachhcs]

a trip to van

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy spends a weekend in van with her two favorite people

4.5k words

hiii here's this that i've been working on for a few days. i thought this idea was super cutie and wanted to write more quinn and samy dynamic. also lowkey predicting that sjs vs. van game in a week so lol this won't be accurate but anyways let me know if u guys like these longer fics or not bc i think they're fun to write sometimes!! (also i imagine samy taking these pics of quinn and will)

au masterlist

"i actually can't believe you convinced me to let you stay for a whole weekend," the oldest hughes brother teased samy as they climbed into the car once her stuff was in the back.

"oh shut up. you've been begging to spend more time with me. plus, i haven't been to van in years," the younger sibling countered as they shared a laugh.

"yeah, you're right. you're right. it's good to see you, squirt," quinn squeezed her arm across the armrest as they pulled out of the pickup line.

it was thursday night and samy was in vancouver for the weekend to watch her brother and will play one another on saturday. she was ecstatic to say the least to be spending some time with quinn and getting to see will. it wasn't often that the oldest and youngest sibling spent 1 on 1 time together—in the summer if they were lucky, but even then, quinn had things keeping him busy and so did samy.

"mom told me you need to take me to a hundred different places while i'm here. she sent me a whole list," the brunette chuckled.

"oh really? like where?"

"apparently this bakery that sells really good bagels. there's an italian restaurant in downtown mom really liked that she wants me to try. i dunno, i'll send you the list," samy clicked around to add quinn to the note.

"alright, i'll have to check it out. is she expecting me to pay for all your meals this weekend?" the older boy hummed, amusement on his features.

"i mean i won't complain if you do. i am a broke college student," the younger brunette grinned.

"good thing i make millions," samy hit her brother's arm for that comment making quinn laugh out loud.

"you better stay humble for someone making 8.6 million a year," the girl mumbled, still unbelievable that her brothers were that rich for doing something they genuinely loved doing. she knew she'd never make anywhere close to that even if she did put in the same amount of work.

either way, she secretly enjoyed bugging and asking her brothers for things knowing how much money they had and that they could definitely swing helping her out with groceries here and there.

"plus, you got your boyfriend making a good couple hundred thousand. you're in good hands," quinn added and samy just flushed, rolling her eyes slightly.

"don't worry, i know. i've been told many times that i should just drop out of college and move to san jose because will can support us," he poked at her every time about it and sometimes samy also still couldn't believe her childhood best friend now boyfriend was rich enough to support her and she didn't have to do a thing. "don't worry, i got you, squirt. welcome to luxury for the weekend," quinn grinned as he leaned back in his seat and really embraced his millionaire status inside his expensive car and fancy sunglasses atop his nose.

—

later that night, samy sat in quinn's apartment on facetime with their parents plus jack and luke so they could see she made it in safely.

"i'm so happy you had a safe flight! how is it so far?" ellen wondered with a bright smile while quinn slipped into frame.

"it's been really good. quinn's been a really great host," she pinched her brother's cheeks making him push her hands away.

"damn, i'm so jealous i'm not in vancouver right now. it could've been a reunion!" jack exclaimed.

"hey you get to see will in like a week when he plays you guys in jersey," samy smiled a bit, sad that she couldn't fly out for that reunion.

"yeah, i guess. how's quinn's? has he made you his weird protein shake yet?" the middle hughes wondered while luke snickered.

"dude, it's not that bad, i swear. it gets me up in the morning," quinn rolled his eyes.

"oh it's bad, don't try gaslighting yourself. if he does make it, don't drink it. it had me on the toilet for an hour," jack mumbled while samy laughed and ellen and jim just shook their heads.

"well, i'm glad you've been having a good time so far. it's rare that i see my kids getting along on their own," ellen chimed in.

"hey! we get along! what are you taking about?" luke defended himself.

"mhm, yeah, sure you do," jim chuckled.

"we do! i swear. at least jack and i kind of get along better," the second to youngest sibling patted jack's arm and the two boys gave their most convincing smile.

"key word: kind of," samy chirped.

"oh shut up," luke rolled his eyes at his sister.

"there it is," quinn mumbled, concealing his laughter so their parents or luke wouldn't see.

"well, anyway, it's good to see my kids sort of together. you two have fun in van this weekend! i want lots of pictures and tell will we said hi!" ellen cheered, breaking up the bickering before it got worse. her kids smiled, all nodding.

"will do. love you guys," samy waved before disconnecting from the call.

quinn jumped up from the couch to continue making dinner. the siblings sat in comfortable silence for a moment until the older boy decided to keep talking, "so how have you and will been doing? okay?"

"yeah, we're good. we talk like every night. it's good," the brunette nodded.

"good, i'm glad. i'm happy you guys worked things out," quinn nodded in approval.

"yeah, me too. we're still..readjusting, but it's been easy i think now that will's had time to settle into california and the team."

"that's good. i mean it'll take time, but i'm glad to hear it's been easy," samy appreciated her brother's words knowing some may think she took him back way too soon and way too easily.

"thanks. what about you? have you found anyone or been seeing anyone?" she loved poking into her brothers' lives. it wasn't easy with quinn considering how closed off he was and how easy it was for him to hide things because he lived in a different country.

"funny, but no. i haven't really been seeing anyone," the older boy hummed.

"lameee, we need to get you someone. i mean don't you have like girls lined at your feet?" samy giggled, thinking about all the edits she saw about her brothers on tiktok.

"very funny. i'm just trying to work on myself. is that a crime?"

"of course not, but i feel like mom's looking for another daughter," the younger brunette teased a bit.

"she'll find one in jack's girlfriend. i have a feeling he's getting married first out of all of us," it wasn't too out of character for jack since he was the middle child and all.

"you think so?"

"i mean i don't know, but yeah. he likes jumping into those things," quinn chuckled.

"yeah, i could see it. i think it will be jack, you, me, then luke. or luke and i are switched and i'm last."

"you last? that's surprising."

"well will and i aren't getting married anytime soon. we wanna live a bit and establish ourselves before anything serious," samy nodded. she wasn't too big on getting engaged so soon anyways. it was probably the only thing she wanted to take her time with other than having kids. that was a way later thing.

"alright, fair. i guess i could say the same. i'm not looking for anything," quinn shrugged. he wasn't huge on any of those life milestones knowing he'd find his person when he was ready.

"do you think you're gonna stay in van forever?" samy changed the subject, leaning her arm across the back of the couch and resting her head down.

"i mean probably. i've got a good few years left in me. plus, i like it here. it reminds me of being a kid and growing up in toronto," the older brunette smiled.

"i kind of miss living in toronto. i basically grew up there, you know?" a good 12 years of samy's life was spent in toronto and they were probably some of the best years.

"yeah, i know. they were good years for sure. you could always go back, you know. move back up there," it was definitely something quinn thought a lot about whenever he did decide to retire from the ice. even though he loved michigan, those times in toronto would always call back to him.

it called back to all of the hughes siblings.

"yeah, maybe when i'm like forty and will's retired," the girl grinned and quinn nodded in agreement.

the rest of the night, the two watched some hockey highlights and then a movie before calling it a night. samy excitedly awaited will's arrival tomorrow afternoon where he was able to pull a few strings and fly out early to spend a bit more time with her and quinn.

—

the two siblings rode back to the airport to gather will while samy continuously checked his flight to see if he had landed yet.

"the plane's not getting any closer every minute you look at it," the older boy laughed, watching the way his sister constantly looked at the website.

"i know, i'm just excited," the genuine happiness was a good look on samy that quinn enjoyed seeing. he hated seeing her so sad this past summer, so he was glad her spirits were back up and she was her usual, bubbly self.

"does this mean i'm gonna be third wheel for the rest of the weekend?"

"no, i promise. we'll just be all gross and kiss when you aren't looking," the girl laughed to herself while quinn rolled his eyes.

"great, great. thanks for having some decency," the boy mumbled but he was secretly smiling.

they pulled back into the airport pickup line where quinn started getting serious deja vu from yesterday. the two of them sat in comfortable silence on their phones and listening to the soft hum of the radio in the background. a few minutes passed when samy began hitting her brother's arm repeatedly, her face glowing.

"his plane landed! he should be coming out," she squealed, jumping out of the car. quinn followed after, the two of them leaning against the side waiting for the blonde.

the younger brunette was bouncing on her heels, scanning every face that came through the doors knowing will was bound to walk through them any second.

finally, will came through, his big hockey bag slung over his shoulder, backpack strapped to his back and sharks hat to cover his messy hair. samy jumped up, running to greet her boyfriend in the middle where quinn couldn't help the smile on his lips.

will dropped his bag so he could lift samy into his arms, the couple spinning around in their bone crushing hug. "missed you," the brunette hummed, pulling back a bit once her feet were back on the ground.

"i missed you, too. its so good to see you," will's hold on her waist drew her in closer, admiring all of her features up close after only seeing them through a screen for months.

"i'm so excited you're here. this is gonna be so fun," samy grinned and pulled her boyfriend down for a kiss, not caring that they were in public or who was watching.

they melted into one another, lips and bodies molding together. quinn, who was watching the entire exchange, pretended to act disgusted which pulled the two apart.

"sorry to break up this reunion, but maybe save that for back at the apartment?" he raised his eyebrow. samy rolled his eyes while will flushed, letting the girl go.

"good to see ya, smitty. it's been awhile," quinn opened his arms for a quick hug.

"it's good to see you, too, quinn. thanks for letting me stay for the weekend," the blonde smiled.

"my apartment is your apartment. although the ice will be a different story tomorrow," the older boy teased a bit, laughing when he saw will pale a bit.

"just kidding. it's gonna be a good game tomorrow. i'm excited to play you and see what you got," quinn smacked will's shoulder and a bit of a nervous chuckle left the blonde's lips.

"alright, don't scare him. let's get back," samy broke them up, tugging them back to the car so they could stop taking up a spot.

—

once quinn and samy helped will get settled in, the oldest hughes brother let the couple have some time to themselves. they sat out on the balcony curdled up together enjoying the nice weather and city below. it was nice de-stressor for will before the game, too.

"so how do you like it so far? be honest," samy wondered, referring to will's time in the nhl so far.

"i really like it. it's like a dream come true," will said honestly which made the girl smile.

"i'm really glad. you look like you've been thriving."

"i do miss boston and the guys and my family and michigan and you though. it's not the same not having all of you an arm's length away," the blonde frowned briefly, thinking of the boys and his parents on the other side of the country from him.

"i get it. we miss you, too, but i'm glad you've been loving it so far. you've got a pretty big name to yourself now," samy giggled while will rolled his eyes a bit.

"just so you know, i'm only thinking of you when i do those press interviews," his words made the youngest hughes blush, burying her face into his shoulder.

"i actually can't believe all of you are in the nhl now. it still feels like yesterday listening to you guys talk about that dream in our living room, or pretending you were playing a real game back on our rink in toronto," all of those memories were still so fresh in their minds, it was hard to believe it was nearly 10 years ago.

"wow, i remember those days. i was always so excited to fly to canada to visit you guys because i knew i'd get to play hockey," will chuckled.

"back when you were more interested in seeing my brothers than me," samy teased.

"only because we were like nine and thought we were gross and had cooties," the blonde countered and the two shared a laugh.

"i was telling quinn yesterday that i miss being out there. i spent my whole childhood there."

"yeah, toronto holds a lot of good memories for us. i miss it too. maybe we can go back one day?" will raised his eyebrows while a little grin appeared on his girlfriend's lips.

"i had the same thought. i said maybe when you're retired and we're like forty or something," they both laughed again.

"forty? i don't know if i'll be playing for that long. i'll probably be done at around 30 or so."

"so thirty. we'll set our plan now," samy determined and will squeezed his arm tighter around her torso, kissing the top of her head.

"sounds like a great plan."

—

the next morning the apartment was buzzing with excitement mixed with nerves and adrenaline. quinn had to be at the rink in the late afternoon and will needed to meet up with his team, so the three spent the morning getting themselves ready. samy was a bit torn trying to figure out what to wear, wanting to support both will and quinn.

"what do you think?" she stepped out of the bathroom to show off her outfit—a jean mini skirt paired with one of will's sharks shirts that had his name on the back and one of quinn's many canucks hats.

will fell silent as he took in her appearance when she did a full spin. the gears in his head started turning and a feeling he hadn't felt in a while bubbled in his chest.

the whole idea of playing in the nhl was something will dreamed of forever. dating his best friend was another unimaginable dream and now the two were colliding and knowing samy would be in the arena wearing his number and his name so everyone would know she was his...the blonde's brain nearly stopped working.

"will?" samy snapped will from his daze.

"huh? sorry. you look..wow.." he mumbled, losing his train of thought as he snaked his hands around her waist, drinking in her outfit even more.

"what's that mean?" the girl chuckled, noticing her boyfriend's lustful expression.

"i just..i'm so lucky. you look good wearing my name," will dipped his head down to place a kiss to samy's lips.

he pulled her flush against his chest, hands wandering with a mind of their own. samy fiddled with will's loosely buttoned undershirt and other hand dancing into his curls. the hockey player's hands drifted further down her hips until he grabbed ahold of her ass and squeezed. she giggled at the action.

they pulled back for a second, panting into one another's mouths. will wanted more. he craved more and so did samy, so they reattached their lips. a soft moan escaped will when samy pulled particularly hard on his hair. her lips felt so good against his own.

"god, you're so gorgeous," will pulled back, lips tinted from samy's pink lip gloss.

"right back at ya, hot stuff," the brunette winked and will couldn't stop himself. he dove back in for more, the desire burning from his head to the tips of his toes.

he backed her against the wall of the bedroom where his lips started dipping further down onto her neck. samy moaned when will found her sweet spot almost immediately, tugging harder at the base of his curls.

"will...people are gonna see," she said but she didn't make any move to pull him away.

"good, let them see," he said, the possession clear in his voice and fuck, if samy didn't find that super attractive.

"we should stop. you have to go soon," she tried knowing he was due to see his team in thirty minutes.

"how soon?" the blonde mumbled, still attacking samy's neck.

"like thirty minutes."

"i can do it in ten," his words sent a rush of heat down the girl's spine, but she knew they couldn't. not now anyways.

"will, not now. later, i promise," she finally found the courage to pull him away from her. he looked back up, breath heavy and lips swollen in pink. he was such a sight to see that had samy wishing they didn't have to go.

"i'm keeping you to that promise then," will smirked.

a quick knock on the door caught their attention, the two of them tensing slightly. "yeah?"

"leaving in fifteen!" quinn called.

"be out soon!" samy yelled back, returning her gaze to her boyfriend's burning stare, placing one last kiss to his lips.

"you're gonna do amazing out there. don't be nervous. you know how quinn plays."

"i know, i know. just scared he'll rip me to shreds," the blonde mumbled with a low chuckle, samy going to help him get himself together as she buttoned up his shirt. 

"even if he does, know he's trying to push you and help you get better," samy knew quinn wasn't going easy on will tonight, but she also knew he was gonna use all the tactics he knew that would push the blonde out of his comfort zone a little to get him to play harder. 

it was how luke played on will too whenever they went head to head back in michigan. 

the two finished getting ready, slipping out of the bedroom as quinn was making sure he had everything and everything was turned off before they left. 

"nice touch," the older boy noticed his sister's hat, smiling a bit as he flicked it up. 

"don't worry, i didn't forget about you," she cheesed as the three of them headed down to the garage. 

quinn dropped will off around the back of the rink where the sharks were gathering in the locker room. the siblings wished the blonde luck before they drove back around to the front and the cameras and media were waiting for them. 

"good luck, quinn. i'll see you later," samy smiled as she climbed out of the car. 

"thanks, squirt. text me if you need anything before we get on," the two departed as samy headed to the doors and quinn headed towards the cameras to capture the player's game day outfits and walk up. 

—

rogers arena was electric leading up to the game. samy had her spot just behind the canucks bench behind the glass where quinn wanted her incase she needed his attention or something—always looking out for his baby sister even during the game. the two waved to one another before samy searched for will doing his warmups. the black and dark teal was a nice addition to the away game jeresey's and she spotted her boyfriend a little bit further down. 

the fans were excited for this matchup, canucks fans loud and eager to get the game underway against the two newest rookies on the sharks. macklin skated by, quickly waving to the brunette. she grinned, waving back and giving two thumbs up indicating good luck. 

the game revved up quickly as quinn took to the ice against will in the first period. samy saw how much the sharks were improving with each game, but she knew the canucks still had the upper hand with their older players and more experience. she was on the edge of her seat watching her boyfriend and bother race towards the puck sliding across the ice. 

quinn was up in will's business, pushing and shoving the younger boy for the puck, so will pushed back harder. the two were basically dancing with one another, the older hughes brother making will work for it. 

some of the other canucks players bumped against the blonde and then in the next second, he was on the ground from a hit. the whistle blew, but will bounced back up, a little flustered but okay. it was a clean hit, so no penalties. samy sighed and then made eye contact with her brother as he skated towards the bench. cool off a bit her look said while quinn just shrugged, but he understood. 

at the end of the first, canucks were up 2-0. samy texted her parents updates even though they were also probably watching. she sent quick messages to gabe and ryan as well as hannah. 

gabe

ur brother's got killer aim

samy

tell me about it

he's making will work for it

ryan

figures

during every intermission, the cameras always panned to the players' family members if they were in the stands. when the jumbotron showed samy she quickly waved and pointed to her canucks hat. the fans cheered, always excited to see quinn's siblings or parents in attendance. 

the second and third periods played out almost the same as the first. the guys were fast on the ice for the puck and scoring goals. canucks led now by 5-3 and samy knew this would be another loss on the sharks side. she knew it'd discourage the boys, but there was definitely improvement from last game. will got his stick on the puck a few times, passing to his line, but still not enough to over power the older guys on the canucks team. 

when the game ended the fans cheered loudly for quinn's team. samy cheered for her brother too while also giving will and macklin a smile for trying their best. she knew press would take some time, so the girl mingled with fans as they left the rink and back into the lobby. 

she enjoyed getting to talk to girls who looked up to her and parents who congratulated her on having a good soccer season so far, asking questions about conference games and the national title coming up soon. 

will came out before quinn now showered and back in his suit. samy made her way over to him, giving him a loving hug and kiss on the cheek, "sorry you lost, but you played well." 

"thanks, it's okay. i knew we would against quinn. he definitely pushed me though," the blonde chuckled. 

"see, i told you. not too bad," samy grinned, squeezing his arm as the couple waited for quinn. 

he came out a few minutes later, waving to the two. "press wants some pics of all of us around back. is that okay?" the older boy wondered while samy and will nodded. 

they followed the older boy around the back where the media snapped a few pictures of the siblings and will together to share online later. once those were done, the three climbed back into the car to head back to the apartment, feeling exhausted from the long night. 

quinn's ringtone started playing through the car as ellen's name lit up the screen. the older brunette answered, "hi mom." 

"hey quinny, great game! you guys back at the apartment in once piece?" the older woman said. 

"we're on our way back right now. samy and will are here." 

"hi mom," the younger girl called. 

"hi ellen," will said too. 

"hi guys. sorry you guys lost, willie. you played really well, though. it can be tough with these big, old nhl players," ellen chuckled. 

"mom, are you calling me old?" quinn cut in as samy giggled too. 

"yeah, i am. just wanted to check in with you guys and make sure everyone had fun. any plans for tonight?" 

the three exchanged a glance, the silence taken as probably nothing since the late game tired all of them out. "probably a movie or something. kind of beat," quinn answered. 

"i bet. well, have fun guys! i'll talk to you soon. love you." 

"love you too, mom," samy and quinn said in unison, giggles escaping both of their lips. 

once they got back into the apartment, samy collapsed onto the couch, glad to be back in a warm temperatures and not on a frozen metal bench. will copied her movements, falling down beside her while quinn chuckled at their behavior. 

"you guys can pick out whatever movie. want anything to eat?" the older boy wondered as he started shedding himself of his tie. 

"whatever you wanna make, we'll eat," samy said. 

"got it," quinn disappeared into his room. 

"so one day this really could be our life," will hummed, breaking the small silence that had filled between the couple. 

"it really could," the brunette agreed as her eyes flicked around her brother's apartment. 

"only...2 more years?" the blonde raised his eyebrow. 

"possibly depending on what career path i choose," samy reached up to mess with some of the misplaced curls hanging off will's forehead. 

"sounds like a dream," the boy smiled warmly, moving so their heads were touching. 

"yeah, for real." 

will went in to press a sweet kiss to samy's lips, all the love in his chest feeling full and abundant. they pulled apart knowing quinn would come back out any second. 

"also i think ryan and gabe wanted to facetime to say hey and talk about the game," samy giggled while the blonde playfully rolled his eyes. 

"of course they did. don't forget about that promise you made to me earlier," the boy grinned as samy stood up to change into something more comfortable. 

"oh, don't worry. i didn't forget," she winked, heading into the guest room leaving will to quickly follow after her. 

[macfrog]

ace sex on fire chapter six

this entire chapter is me making up for 1. the golfing line in chapter two, and 2. joel's entire experience of tlou2. naughty dog i'm waiting for ur response. 24 hours to reply

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel takes you on a day trip to go golfing. it turns out to be more fun than you expected

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) golf. idk what else to say. age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, more sugardaddy!joel, discussions of pregnancy + reader perhaps not wanting children, sort of possessive!joel?, praise kink, unprotected piv car sex, daddy kink, exhibitionist fantasy, creampie, more teasing + flirting, angst + pining, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 9.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Good girl. He there?” The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare. “Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel. “He watching?” “Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily. “Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”

The cab squeaks to a halt right outside the office, dropping you at the bottom of the concrete steps leading up to the revolving door. There are already bodies filtering in and out of the building, despite how early it is.

You thank the driver – Mick, you’ve come to learn. He seems to run this route on weekday mornings; it’s always him who shows up at your apartment when you can’t be bothered to walk to work, or miss the damn bus. Mick tosses a thumbs up over his shoulder and you swing out into the brilliant sun.

It’s Thursday. You’ve been home sixty-five hours, by your count. Joel gave you a couple days after landing stateside to catch up on sleep, readjust. He’d gone back to work Tuesday morning, though, 8AM sharp. Martha had text to ask where you were, and had sent six laughing emojis back when you replied with, How the fuck is he back already?

You make the climb up the steps, back to work, back to normality. It drags like a weight at your heels, the thought of returning to that gray office after three days wandering around picture-perfect, painted-pink Paris. After three days of Joel.

That split-open feeling, the cavity between your ribs – it’s sewn itself up since you got back to your own apartment, your own space. Since you showered a couple times, washed your clothes, started smelling like yourself again instead of Joel. Its sutures are made from the sound of the subway squealing to a halt, the smell of Chinese takeout from the place across the street.

But there’s a tiny piece of you, small enough to stay hidden from even yourself sometimes, that you know misses it. Misses…him. It only hurts when you touch it – the sewn-up scar, messy in your frantic attempts to close it up – it aches when you remember his hands on your waist whenever you wanted them there, his lips below your ear whenever you needed him.

As you approach the glass doors, you hear a whistle from behind, and turn to watch Joel slip out of his Rolls and jog up the steps. There’s a sports bag hanging from his left hand.

“Am I a dog?” you ask when he reaches you.

“It was an endearin’ whistle.”

“Very endearing. Don’t do it again.”

He nods once. “Yes, ma’am. Feelin’ awake yet?”

“Almost.” You follow him into the building, clicking along the polished marble floor at his side. “You didn’t waste any time getting back into the swing of things, I hear.”

You both nod good morning to the receptionists, and Joel hits the button to call the elevator.

“I’m an important man, baby,” he says, shrugging. “My job ain’t just answerin’ the phone ‘n making coffee.”

You scoff, slapping his back as he leads you through the sliding doors, which closer over and shut you both into your first moment of privacy in almost seventy hours. Joel immediately turns to face you, words behind his eyes that he can’t seem to sort into a coherent sentence.

In what you hear as an attempt to summarize, he says: “Back to reality.”

You brush the shoulders of his blazer, tug on his tie to straighten it. It’s the most you can bring yourself to do that doesn’t involve throwing yourself at him. There’s a throbbing right below your chest, like a magnet tugging you towards the man stood in front of you. Touching the padded shoulder of his suit will have to do. For now.

You lift your eyebrows, staring at the knot of his tie. “Yep.”

It’s pretty reductive, Back to reality. But then, what else is there to say? What else that wasn’t said between your bodies in Paris? A line was crossed there – you both went somewhere you can’t come back from so easily. And moving forward the way you had been before, seems equally as impossible.

There are eyes on you here. There are people who care to know what might be going on – whether they like it or not doesn’t matter. No more strutting out onto the terrace, running your hands all over one another, connecting skin and tongue in ways you wouldn’t have dreamt up two weeks ago.

No. This stays secret. A secret between you, Joel, and the French skies.

Joel places a hand on the small of your back as the elevator doors whip open. He ushers you out, and then, once in view of Martha’s desk, sidesteps to an appropriate distance.

“Welcome back,” your colleague greets you as you approach her desk. “Missed you, kid.”

You smile coyly. “Thanks,” you mumble. Guilt isn’t the easiest of emotions to hide.

Joel taps your arm gently and then nods towards his office. “Catch-up,” he says, and Martha rounds her desk to follow after him.

You drop your jacket and purse over the back of your chair and slip in behind them, leaning back on one of Joel’s leather couches with your arms crossed.

“Alright,” Martha sighs, “few things needing done this morning. First…”

You take a deep breath and slump down until your ass sits comfortably on the couch cushion, your knees draped over the arm, cradled inside your elbows.

Joel notices, and smirks to himself. He dials into his voicemail, hits a button, and a familiar voice echoes from his desk.

“Hey, Joel,�� Drew’s voice says, “hope you enjoyed Paris ‘n aren’t still too hungover. I know what Jean-Marc’s like…”

Martha moves to the next bullet point, tilting her pad and tapping the tip of her pen to some messy scrawling you can’t read. You nod, eyes flitting up to watch Joel.

“Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re still good for later. S’posed to be a good day for it. Let me know if you need any help with directions. Alright. Looking forward to seeing you two soon. Cool.”

The machine cuts. Joel sits back in his chair, rests his heels on the wood in front of him. Black, shiny, ridiculously expensive shoes crossed over on top of a black, shiny, ridiculously expensive desk.

“…now, Ken needs to receive this as soon as possible, alright? I said I’d have it done by end of day yesterday – I did not, so I need you to –”

“Who’s you two?” you ask Joel, peering over Martha’s notepad.

He looks up, tossing a rubber band ball in his hands. “You ‘n me, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry,” Martha declares, “am I talking to myself–?”

You push her notepad out of your view, still staring at Joel. “What do you mean, you ‘n me?”

Martha drops her hands with a sigh. You repeat your question.

“Us,” Joel says, hint of irritation in his voice like you’re supposed to be in on something. “We’re goin’ golfing with him.”

“We’re going golfing?”

Martha, now exasperated, swings the pad under her bicep and crosses her arms over her chest, makes something of a growling noise. “You two are unbeliev…Are you listening to me?” she demands, clicking her fingers in front of you.

“No,” you reply simply, eyes locked on Joel’s.

His lips curve with a soft laugh. “You ain’t read your emails?” he asks.

Your head darts between him and Martha. Bewildered. “I was catching up on sleep, thank you very much,” you assert, nodding with finality at the blonde updo hovering over you.

You know she cares about you – at least enough to water your monstera deliciosa while you were gone – but Martha can be sharp; her outspokenness is something to admire and to fear, in one small five-foot-three frame.

She snorts, glancing over to Joel with a disbelieving shake of her head, but he doesn’t take her up on it. Just looks at her blankly and then turns back to you.

“We’re meeting Drew up at Aspen Heights. Few of his buddies are in town, he wanted to introduce ‘em to me.”

“And I’m coming – why?”

“Because he met you last week, musta liked you, ‘n he invited you.”

Your mouth opens to reply, some retort to bring into question the need for your presence at a fucking round of golf, when Joel and his words cut yours short in your throat.

“And I want you there with me.”

Martha raises her eyebrows when you look up at her. The thing is: this all seems very normal, from her perspective. You did such a good job at keeping Joel right in Paris, didn’t you? He made his flight there on time, he met with Jean-Marc without a hitch, and he was actually an hour early for his flight home.

That last part was because you’d woken up with the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep, so you woke him, too and…well. Kept each other busy until you physically couldn’t anymore. There wasn’t much point hanging around in the hotel suite when your cases were packed and your bodies were…fragile, so you left for the airport.

To her ignorant eyes – and bless her – this is all just networking. It’s you building work relationships, Joel at the helm overseeing everything and setting it all up for you. This is clear – that that’s all she thinks – when she says:

“He’s doin’ you a favor, sweetheart. You should go.”

“I don’t even have any golfing gear. I’m in suit trousers.” Your eyes trail down your black pinstripe pants, legs dangling from the arm of the couch.

“And you look fantastic,” Joel quips, though you know he’s half-serious, “but you do gotta find somethin’ more…” he waves a hand, “…golf.”

“Something more golf. That’s helpful.”

“Here,” he says, stretching into his back pocket. His hips lift from the seat of his chair, and your eyes land on the space just south of his belt buckle. He pulls his credit card from his wallet – the same one you could probably recite the numbers of by heart at this point – and holds it out. “Go grab somethin’ nice. My treat.”

My treat. Like he didn’t treat you all damn weekend.

You pull yourself up and take the card from his fingers.

“’n what about my list?” Martha asks.

Joel shrugs. “Ken can wait one more day. You got two hours,” he tells you, and then sits up straight, rubber band ball placed safely next to his Newton’s cradle. “I’ll have Rand take you.”

You follow Martha out of Joel’s office when his phone starts ringing and his head falls into his hands, letting you both know it’s not a call you want to be around to hear. As he lifts the handset, he lightly calls your name, and you exchange a sly smirk as you slip out the door.

Martha wanders off behind her own desk as you pull your purse over your shoulder. She loads her computer back up, chin lifting as she squints through her glasses at the screen.

“There’s a golf shop downtown,” she tells you, two index fingers tapping away on the keys. “Alan uses ‘em. Don’t think they’re too expensive, either. Wouldn’t know for sure, though, he spends so damn much anytime he’s in there.”

You watch her for a moment, nodding along. “Thanks, Martha.”

She holds up a finger as you walk past her desk toward the elevator. “Remember you still got my to-do list to tackle, so don’t be long!”

----------

Rand drops you on a quiet side street. He gives you his number, tells you to text him once you’re done, and the sleek black car rolls off.

On the corner sits Ace’s Pro Golf, a small, charming store, peeling wooden front painted fern green with golf-themed decals decorating the windows. You set off inside, passing under two transparent putters crossed over one another on the window above the door. An old brass bell rings out from overhead when you enter.

Its exterior is misleading. This store is huge. Overwhelmingly huge. Walls stacked with bags, clubs dangling from pegs. Baskets of balls and tees and other accessories dotted all over the creaky wooden floors, which are lined with racks upon racks of golfing clothes – shirts, trousers, dresses, skirts.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, edging towards the rails.

You slip between them, hand running along the multicolored choices, when your phone starts to ring, vibrating somewhere deep in your purse.

“Hey, Mom,” you mutter, slipping your cell between your cheek and your shoulder as you begin to search through the shirts in front of you.

“Hey, baby,” her voice sings to you. “Wasn’t expecting to catch you, thought you’d already be at work. Where you at?”

You sigh. “I’m shopping. Joel’s taking me golfing later.”

She almost chokes down the line. “Golfing?”

“Yeah. It’s this friend he went to school with, I met him at lunch last week. There’s a few of ‘em going, so he asked me along, too.”

“Nice guy. So, you’re shopping for an outfit?”

“Mhm.”

“Any…dress code?”

“Dress code?” You straighten up, switching the phone to your other ear. “Like, golfing gear? I dunno.”

She laughs. “Alright.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! Nothing, baby.”

“Meant something, Mom. Tell me.”

“No, I just…” She sighs. “You’re sure this isn’t, like…It sounds an awful lot like a date. Like, you’re going on Joel’s arm.”

You’re silent. You suck in a deep breath, fixing an order of words in reply, when your mom cuts in again.

“I bet I’m way off. Forget I said anything.”

“Yeah, gross,” you refute, metal hangers squealing against the rail when you unfreeze. “No. Not a date. It’s, like, networking, or whatever.”

Mom snorts. “Right. Exactly.”

“Not – a date,” you repeat.

You’re relieved when she changes the subject. “Show me what you’re looking at.”

You huff, pulling the phone down and switching to FaceTime. In a second, your mom’s bright, swollen cheeks and ringlet curled hair are on the screen, and she flashes you a pearly smile.

“Was thinking maybe this…?” You angle the phone to show her a navy-blue polo shirt. “And then a white skirt?”

“Nah,” she cuts, and you flip your camera back to your face.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Too blue. You look better in neutrals. Try beige or brown. Boring colors, y’know? Blend into the walls.”

You hiss something she doesn’t need to hear under your breath and then follow it up with a slightly more polite, “Screw you.”

Her image on your screen shakes violently with how hard she laughs at herself. “I’m messing with you. You know you’ll look beautiful no matter what you choose. Wait a second, though – can you even golf?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever touched a golf club in my life.”

“Thought as much. Does Joel know you’re about to embarrass him like this?”

“He’s aware.”

“Please get him to take some videos. I gotta see this.”

“You know what,” you grumble, holding back your own laughter now, “I’m hanging up. You just solidified your place in the nursing home, you know that?”

She’s still laughing, words pushing through her cackles in desperate punches. “Wait, wait! I gotta tell you why I called you.”

“Alright, go. Thirty seconds.”

“Riley’s pregnant.”

Your face screws up. Lips curl upside down into a grimace. “Oof. Good…good for her…?”

Your mom throws her head back with a roar of laughter. “Be more enthusiastic about it. A little niece or nephew for you!”

“’s more like a…second cousin, or whatever. I bet Aunt Rose is over the moon.”

“She called me screaming this morning. I just thought you’d like to hear, being that you’re in a permanent state of baby fever.”

“Ha,” you state, blank expression never changing. It causes her to erupt into another fit of giggles. “That’s nice, I guess. For Riley. Tell her I said congrats.”

“I will. And I’ll leave out the part where you almost threw up. Alright, I’ll let you go. Good luck golfing. Come back with a hot millionaire boyfriend, maybe! Love you!”

“Yep. ‘kay. Love you. Love you, too – ‘kay – bye – bye, Mom.”

You hang up mid-laugh and her caramel cheeks disappear from the screen. You drop your phone back into your purse and slot the navy-blue polo under your arm, spinning to the rail behind you to find a skirt to go with it.

Riley, pregnant. That’s fucking insane. You two used to spend entire summers riding your bikes around your hometown, spending all of your allowance down at the mall. You swear you’re not old enough to have babies yet. Swear you’re not even old enough to be out of Mom’s house, living on your own in the city.

But then here you are, five years in, making a mental note to buy a baby gift for your cousin, on top of the pre-existing ones reminding you to message that girl who lived across the street when you were kids to say, Congrats on your engagement, and pick up a new home card for your two friends who are on their third mortgage.

Your mom finds it funny – always has. The instant repulsion you feel, the way you recoil whenever you’re asked about kids, about a partner, about a three-bed-two-bath in the suburbs with a big yard and good school nearby.

You don't think any of it's for you. And that’s fine, and every time you skate over the topic, your mom tells you it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s –

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your daydream, clutching a white skirt in your hands, “sorry. I’m sorry. No, I’m good, thanks. Sorry.”

The assistant smiles kindly and nods. Then he spins on his heel and waltzes off, disappearing behind a cardboard cutout of a golfer mid-swing.

It’s not lost on you, by the way – what your mom said. Sounds an awful lot like a date. You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t also crossed your mind. Joel, wanting you there with him. Giving you his card to buy somethin’ nice, which, after the last week, you translate roughly as: something I’ll like. Something he’ll see, and his second thought will be ripping it off your body.

His first thought will be what you’d look like taking it off for him.

And for that reason, you slip the short skirt under your arm beside the polo, and head across the store to find some more stuff to waste Joel’s money on.

----------

Rand pulls up by the curb a few yards down from Ace’s, where you’re sat on a bench enjoying an ice cream. He rolls the window down and lowers his black sunglasses.

“You bein’ paid for this?” he asks, grinning.

You nod, gleeful. “By the hour. Want an ice cream?”

He snorts when you hold Joel’s black card up between two fingers, tilting it in the sunlight. And then he puts the car in park, climbs out, and jaunts over to the ice cream cart by your bench.

He orders a three-scoop cone, and you nod in approval when he sits down alongside you, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“Respect it,” you say, cheersing your own half-finished cone against his.

----------

When you get back to work, Joel’s already changed into a crisp, clean golfing outfit. It weakens your knees a little when you saunter into his office.

A long-sleeved, dark polo shirt that shows off every curve and flex of his toned arms, paired with gray, just-tight-enough trousers. And pristine white shoes so sharp and clean you’d swear he’d had them polished just for the occasion.

You ignore the way your head lightens at the sight of him and throw yourself into the chair to his right, white back from Ace’s falling between your ankles.

“Alright, Tom, thanks for lettin’ me know,” he says, arms folded, sat back against his desk. He leans back, places the phone back in its cradle, and looks you up and down. “Have fun?”

You shrug, leaning forward to pick a piece of lint from his thigh. “Didn’t know what to get for the most part, so there’s probably stuff I don’t need in there.”

He squints down at his cell phone. “Like, uh…Duke’s Scoops?”

You stare back at him, mirroring his cheeky smirk. Your leg swings, arms cross over your chest, covering the way your breath falters. He’s seen the transactions.

“You gonna grudge me three dollars on an ice cream, Miller?”

“Six fifty,” he mutters, glancing down at his phone again to double check. His tongue runs across his top lip. You want to replace it with yours. “So…that’s at least two ice creams, pretty girl.”

“It’s a hot day. Rand deserved something to cool down. We sat on a bench in the shade ‘n had a nice chat. He taught me how to swing. Verbally,” you add, when Joel’s eyebrows lift.

“Taught you how to swing,” he echoes, and you nod.

“Did you know he used to compete? Junior league?”

He pouts his bottom lip. “Mighta come up in the, what, fifteen years since I met him?”

You beam in reply, standing up and hooking your fingers through the string handles of your shopping bag. “I’m gonna go get changed now.”

“Could just get changed in the car on the way, ‘s a thirty-minute drive.”

You lean in close, eyes flitting over to Martha’s desk to make sure she’s not watching. Your lips brush softly against his ear. “I don’t wanna take any time away from other stuff we could get up to,” you murmur, and Joel’s hand locks around yours, attempting to pull you back as you skip off.

“Be right back,” you call, letting the door fall shut on his suggestive smirk, his tight trousers, and the hard bulge beneath them.

You return five minutes later in your getup. Joel has much the same reaction as you did with him, though he’s not half as good at hiding it. He sits upright in his chair, fingers tight around the armrests.

“Uhuh,” he says, eyes diving to your legs and then resurfacing somewhere around your chest. “Let me just –” he leans over to his phone, “– call Drew, let ‘im know we ain’t comin’…”

“Shut up,” you scoff. “Looks good, though, right?”

Joel’s eyes are still trained on your bare thighs, one crossed over the other. “Looks…better than good.”

You bat your eyelashes. “Still mad about the ice cream?”

“No, ma’am. Not mad at all.”

He stands, slinging both his bag and yours over his shoulder, and walks around his desk to meet you. You give him one final warning.

“You know I’ve never played golf before, right?”

“I know,” he affirms.

“So…bringing me is kinda pointless. I am not gonna bring anything worthwhile.”

“You in that outfit,” Joel mutters – and as he passes by, he makes sure to brush his swollen crotch up against your ass – “makes it worthwhile already.”

----------

Aspen Heights is a hundred and fifty-acre course, vibrant green fairways rolling over hilly land laid out like crinkles in a sheet of green felt. Rand drives slowly up to the clubhouse, gravel crackling under the tires of the Rolls as you and Joel lean over to stare at the landscape – the unkempt, sprawling wild plants guarding the pristine course, the bunkers like giant splotches of white paint on the grass.

You turn back and look to Joel, brows knitting in an expression which could be translated as amazement, could be intrigue, or could simply be: What the fuck are we doing here?

He mirrors it, shaking his head. And it makes you laugh.

“What?” he asks, smiling.

“You could buy this place, easy. Don’t act like you don’t fit in.”

“If you think I fit in here,” he grunts, getting out of the now parked car, “you think very highly of me, angel.”

He doesn’t deny that he could afford to buy it.

The clubhouse is…much the same. Huge, grand, surrounded by a wide-open porch and fronted by a dome-shaped room, paneled by windows that reflect the scene before them.

You follow Joel’s lead, climbing the steps to the double doors by his side, staying close enough that he can guide you with a bump of his arm against yours, but far enough apart that it doesn’t look like you’re showing up together.

Inside, you follow two smartly-dressed attendants through to a room finished in dark oak, shining wooden floors under bare-bulb light figures, a solid marble bar in the center and six perfectly symmetrical high tables surrounding it.

You glance nervously around the room. Drew’s stood over by the windows with three other men – a tan guy with a white baseball cap on, fluorescent orange polo buttoned up to his neck, a shorter guy with tight black curls, fiddling with the cap of a bottle of water, and finally, a guy with dark hair combed within an inch of its life into perfect place, shoulders almost ripping through his blue polo. He looks like he’s been copy-pasted straight from a magazine called Golf Weekly, or something.

Joel takes one step across a patterned rug and Drew notices you both. He breaks off from the group.

“Hey, man.” He grins at Joel and leans over to shake his hand – well, it’s more of that slap-hand thing. They slap each other’s palms, fingers lock, one quick shake of the wrists together, and then a nod of the head. You know?

Then he leans over to you, kisses your cheek. “Sorry it’s just us guys,” he says, hand on your arm. He looks over to the three men by the window, now looking out over the course and pointing. “My girlfriend was supposed to be joining us, but she got called in to work. You two woulda gotten along, you ‘n Rach.”

You smile warmly. “That’s okay. Thanks for asking me.”

“You play much?” Drew asks, leading you both over to the windows.

You shake your head and Joel breathes a laugh.

“Total beginner,” you admit.

Drew bats a hand. “We’ll show you the ropes. This is, uh, this is Steve,” he points to Fluorescent Orange, “Caleb,” Water Bottle holds his hand out to shake yours, “and that’s Daniel.”

Up close, Daniel’s handsome. Sharp jawline, shadowed by the beginnings of stubble, a dimple in the center of his chin. He steps forward, holding a hand out, and you take it. His palm engulfs yours and squeezes – soft but sure. And then you pull away.

The men all nod to Joel, who probably nods back from behind you, and then catches you gently in his arm, cradling it around your back out of view of the others.

“We’ll be getting started soon,” Drew says, “they’re just fixing up a few buggies for us.”

Joel nods, lets go of you, and crosses his arms. You knot your hands awkwardly at your waist. He stays right by your side, though, which you’re grateful for. The last thing you need is another Jean-Marc, some cloaked assistant swooping you off away from the comfort of Joel.

“How’s business, Joel? Drew was tellin’ us about some deal you’re tryna nail.”

Daniel’s eyes are sharp, cerulean blue drilling deep into the warm brown of Joel’s, which calmly stare back. He looks a little younger than Joel, maybe on the cusp of forty, only a few light strands of grey through his deep brown fringe. There’s no wedding ring on his finger. You don’t know why you’re even looking at that.

Joel doesn’t reveal much in the way of answers. Typical of him – or typical of the Joel he is to the rest of the world. “Yeah, ‘s good. Just takin’ my time, we’re workin’ on it.”

Daniel nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He crosses his arms, biceps bulging, and then rounds on you.

“You gotta be run off your feet, chasing after him all day, huh?”

You tilt your head toward Joel. “He keeps me busy, yeah.”

Daniel leans into you, laughter crooning from his lips. It wobbles you a little, forces you one step nearer Joel’s side. You smile back, as pleasant as you can muster the courage, and he eventually leans away.

Before he can ask another question, Drew’s calling you all over to the sliding patio doors. Daniel hops back a step, nods to you, and says, “After you.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Joel cuts, stepping into the space the blue-eyed man had left specifically for you, sweeping you off as he goes.

----------

There isn’t anything about golf that intrigues you. Not even remotely. You’ve never watched it, never wanted to play it – the most you’ve dabbled in it is minigolf, and even that became a fucking bore after two anniversary dates in a row there with Blake.

Still, you watch patiently and politely as the men take their shots one by one, starting with Drew, all the way through to Daniel, who gives his driver a quick shine with a gloved hand before stepping up. On your left, Joel scoffs quietly to himself.

Daniel swings back, and his biceps swell under the tight sleeves of his shirt. You watch as his arms follow through, sending the ball hurtling through the air and well past its three predecessors.

Joel nudges your elbow.

“Ow,” you mumble, running a hand over the skin.

He gives you a perplexed look. “I said, you can use my clubs. You in there?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a little too defensively. “Just…paying attention.”

“Hm.”

The men on your right groan as Daniel strides back over to join them, a satisfied grin across his face. Your eyes trace him as he leans on his driver, one white pant leg crossing over the other.

When you turn back to the tee box, Joel’s lifting his own club from his bag. His broad, muscled shoulders flex under the dark material of his shirt; his tall figure walks over to the tee, delicate fingers dancing along the handle of the club, and he clears his throat.

And suddenly, the memory of Daniel and his stupid biceps is dust in the wind.

Joel takes, like, half a practice swing. Doesn’t even have to aim, not really. Just pulls his arms back, sucks his waist in, and goes for it.

His ball lands a couple meters ahead of Daniel’s. And you wonder when the fuck golf became this sexy.

He turns back and runs his tongue over his top lip, breathing a little heavy. The sight drives you fucking insane for the second time today. And then he’s smiling at you, jerking his head in a gesture for you to join him.

You step forward, a little shy, a little hot, and wander mutely over to him.

“I got you,” he says, and reaches for your wrist.

You move to take the driver from his hand and Joel clicks his teeth, shaking his head.

“Said I got you,” he utters, and pulls your body into his, shelling around you. His beard scratches lightly against your ear.

“Joel,” you whisper, laughing nervously and tossing a quick glance back over to the men standing just feet away. Drew just said something apparently hilarious. Caleb gives him a solid whack on the shoulder and doubles over laughing. Steve’s watching a butterfly float by.

“They ain’t watchin’,” Joel says, curving his arms around yours and fixing your hands on the handle of the club. “s just you ‘n me.”

You wriggle under his grasp and feel the hum of laughter from his chest between your shoulders, the weight of his belt riding on your ass. Your cheeks heat when his chin rests on your collarbone.

“Alright,” he says, hands tightening around your own. “You’re gonna line it up, stand with your legs a little apart, little more…”

The toe of his shoe taps your heel and you widen your stance.

“Good girl,” he whispers. A pulse shakes through your body. “Now, on your backswing, you’re gonna want your left shoulder under your chin, ‘n your hands above your right shoulder. Yeah?”

“Got it,” you mumble, so unconvincing that it makes you laugh after you’ve said it.

He gives your waist a tiny squeeze and steps back, watching as you carefully lift the club and curve it around your shoulders. You hear him from behind.

“’attagirl. Keep your knees bent, you got it.”

You take one good swing, and hit the ball on your first try, but it’s…it’s bad, for sure. It’s pretty terrible. The ball lands on this side of the fairway, muddled in amongst the longer grass of the rough. But it’s your first ever shot – least not with colored balls and spinning windmills in the way – and so when you turn back to Joel with a huge beam across your lips, your expression is reflected in his.

“Good job!” he chuckles, stalking back over to you.

“Good job,” you echo with a laugh, handing him the club. You twist and hold your hand up to shield your eyes, staring down the course. “Look where it is, ‘n look where yours are.”

He glances back over to where your sad little ball sits. “We’ll get a few drinks down those guys,” he whispers, hand on your back. “See how good they are in a few holes’ time.”

----------

You’re back in the clubhouse after finishing the eighteenth hole on something of a high. Joel managed to worsen the accuracy of your competitors only so much – your end of the deal was to improve as the round went on, which you try to argue you technically did, given that you began to land your shots on the fairway around hole seven, but your argument is let down by Joel’s reminder that, on hole thirteen, he had to dig your ball out of the bunker for you.

“And I am eternally grateful to you for agreeing to never fucking talk about it again,” you say through gritted teeth, and he laughs.

“Last time, promise.”

Drew joins the pair of you at your table and slaps an arm down on Joel’s shoulder.

“Your round, asshole.”

Joel grumbles, gives your elbow a cursory tap, and slides off to the bar. Drew takes his seat, nudges your arm.

“I am impressed,” he tells you, slurring his words a little.

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods. “I didn’t think I was so good.”

“Oh,” he shakes his head, “you weren’t. I meant I’m impressed you stuck it out.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss.

He snorts, head bobbing with the alcohol bubbling in his blood. “I’m kidding. You were great, for your first time. I’m really glad you came.”

“Me, too,” you admit.

Drew opens his mouth to say something else when a clatter from across the clubhouse interrupts him. You turn at the same time to see a waiter on his ass at the other side of the room. His metal tray rattles against the wooden floor, flutes smashed in a pool of champagne by his side.

“Oh, shoot,” Drew mumbles, setting his glass down on the table.

You push off your stool, sliding your drink alongside his, but he motions for you to stay.

“I got it,” he says, palm lightly tapping your wrist. “I got it.”

He shuffles off to the waiter, now being helped to his feet by Caleb. The last you see is Drew bending to grab the silver tray, before he’s swept out of your view by –

“Poor guy,” Daniel muses, fist locked tight around a lager. He pulls Joel’s stool out and slips onto the cushion, elbow brushing against yours.

You readjust awkwardly in your own chair and pull on the hem of your skirt.

“So,” Daniel clears his throat, the bottom of his glass scraping along the wooden tabletop, “how’d you find your first round of golf?”

You smile politely. “Uh, good. Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to be much, but it wasn’t too scary.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? Think you’ll be back?”

Your shoulders jerk with a shrug. “Maybe.”

He nods and dives headfirst into some long ramble about golf – something about the time he brought his sister and her kids here and how much worse they were than you, so you should really be proud of yourself, and he’d love to see you around here again sometime – but you’re only half listening. You’re stealing glances over at the bar, hunting for a chiseled jawline and monochrome beard.

You spot him locked between Steve and some other guy in all black, waiting for the bartender to draw up his order of drinks. He’s nodding, saying words back to the pair, but keeping his eyes locked on you.

You give him half a smile, half a, There you are, what the hell’s taking you so long? Can you come the fuck back? and hope he reads the words across your face.

“…so, as long as you stick with what you know, it’s actually a really enjoyable game.”

Daniel stares at you blankly, waiting for a response.

“Sure, sure,” you answer, after too long a pause to convince him that you were listening. “Sorry,” you close your eyes and give your head a shake, “was just checking on that waiter.”

Daniel nods. Follows the trail of your eyeline across the room, and looks back to you. “So, uh,” he clears his throat nervously, “I know this place downtown – Italian, has this big open rooftop seating area. If you’re interested, I’d, uh…I’d love to take you, sometime.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, frozen. Like, actually convinced the air in your lungs has turned to ice, frozen. Your eyes probably look like they’re about to burst out of your head, your mouth stuck in a dumb O-shape as you search frantically for the words to form a reply.

He smiles awkwardly. Watches as you blink straight back at him.

“I…” you manage, after what feels like fucking hours. “…That’s – so nice, Daniel, I – really – I’m flattered. Um…”

He interrupts, and it’s like a cold flannel on an acid burn. “Oh, Jesus. I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry.”

“No,” you shake your head, suddenly animated, “no, listen. It’s – you’re –”

Daniel’s still apologizing. “Are you – sorry, I don’t mean to assume – are you and – you and Joel…?”

His head jerks. One eyebrow cocked. His fingers press into the table, making counter-rotating circles across the gleaming surface.

You stare from his hands to his face, open-mouthed. “N-no,” you tell him, with a single shake of your head. And then you realize he’s being serious. “No, no, we’re not – no, absolutely not. We’re just – friends.”

“Right,” he says, brows knitting. “It’s just – the guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time I’ve been sat here, so I just figured…maybe…”

You follow Daniel’s gaze across to the bar again, where Joel’s still standing, this time with Drew at his side. He’s mouthing Yeah, in reply to whatever Steve’s gabbing about, but not fucking listening to a word of it.

“No,” you say again, looking Joel dead in the eye. “We’re just friends.”

You turn to look back at the slick-haired man by your side, and he nods.

“But, uh,” you look into your glass, the ice suddenly more interesting than Daniel’s hopeful expression, “you’re a really nice guy, and I appreciate you asking, but I’m…not…exactly looking for anything right now. I’m – yeah.”

“Right – no, absolutely,” he says again, flustered. His fingers wrap tight around his glass and he shifts as if to stand. “That’s absolutely fine. I just thought I’d ask, y’know?”

He laughs nervously. You feel kinda guilty. He’s being so decent about it, and he means well, but you really just wish he would…fuck off.

He isn’t given the option.

Drew comes bounding over like a golden retriever and leans in to Daniel, another freshly poured pint swinging in his fist. “You’ve improved your game, Gilbert,” he sings in your suitor’s ear. “Must be years since the last time you scored an eagle!”

Daniel copies Drew’s guffawing, nodding along. He opens his mouth to say something, but Drew jumps ahead, offering to buy him a drink to celebrate.

“C’mon, my treat,” the blond tells him, and swaggers off towards the bar, a vice grip on the blue polo shirt.

The shadow of Joel slips around your back as soon as the two figures are out of view. He brushes against your shoulders and nudges his stool nearer to yours with his foot, before sitting back into it with a sigh.

You stare at him, smirking behind your hand, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. He catches your eye and watches you for a few seconds.

Sorry, he mouths eventually, and sneaks a hand onto your thigh.

You lean into him, feeling the weight of Daniel and his proposal and his fucking Italian restaurant fall like insignificant grains off sand off your shoulders. You trace a finger along the shape of Joel’s knuckles. “I feel bad,” you whisper.

“The hell for?” his voice asks, a deep rumble by your temple.

You shrug, looking up at him. “He’s a nice guy. He asked me on a date.”

“And did you want to go?”

Your face pulls into a wince, lips flinching. “Not really.”

“Then what’d I tell you about doin’ stuff you don’t want to?”

You don’t reply. Your mind sails back to that boat ride in Paris, when he basically told you off for feeling guilty about rejecting a fucking marriage proposal, never mind a downtown dinner. It doesn’t bear thinking about what fantastic rant he’s currently bottling up where Daniel’s feelings are concerned.

Joel’s a no-nonsense guy, you know this. Known it for as long as you’ve known him. He’s rational, he’s pragmatic. He says what he thinks, and you deal with however you feel about it. He doesn’t waste time making anyone feel better with lies or cushion-soft landings. His yes is yes and his no is no. And sure, maybe there’s something in there that you’d do well to adopt, too.

But there are inconsistencies to him that you can’t work out – yet. Something that makes him break his rules. He still hasn’t shared whatever the hell Jean-Marc said to him that made him sweep you off of that terrace minutes later. He won’t admit why he keeps dragging you along to these so-called ‘work’ events.

Part of you wants to break him open, chip away at him like the sculptures in the Louvre until his beating heart is in your hands, the rhythmic pulses sharing secrets like it’s speaking in Morse code.

And part of you – bigger, stronger, wiser – hopes you never get close.

When you come back to the room, sound of glasses clinking and men’s roaring laughter washing away any thoughts of jilted boyfriends or lonely golfers, Joel lowers his head to look you in the eye.

“You wanna go?”

You nod, scrunching your nose. “That okay?”

He leans in close, as close as he reckons he can get without drawing attention, and smiles softly. “You coulda asked to go home the minute we pulled up ‘n it woulda been okay. Let’s go.” And he takes your hand.

Drew’s slung over the shoulders of some argyle-patterned men who you’re sure have spent more time drinking than they have actually on the course. He’s lifting his glass, about to toast to life, or love, or fucking golf, when Joel sneaks by behind him, never letting go of your hand.

The Rolls Royce is sat in park at the bottom of the stone steps, hazard lights blinking. Joel holds the door open as you hop in under the twinkling ceiling.

“Well?” Rand asks, looking in the mirror. You respond with a toss of your head, squinting. “Did you keep your feet straight like I taught you?” he demands.

“Honestly, I was more focused on making sure I hit the ball, Rand.”

He snorts. “Office, Joel?”

“Office, Rand.”

As the partition closes, Joel’s hand comes up to cup the back of your head. You lean into it, tilting to look at him properly through eyes glazed with tiredness, alcohol, relief to be back in only his company.

And he’s staring back, eyes flitting from yours down to your mouth when you speak.

“Did you…did you send Drew over to get Daniel away from me?”

Joel’s eyes stay fixed on your lips. “You didn’t want me to do that?”

You ignore him. You want him to answer your question. “Did you?”

And then he looks up. Searches your eyes for a second, and then says, “Yeah.”

Your stare falls down into his lap. To his closed fist, resting on his thigh. His fingers are stroking the back of your head in lulling movements. You focus on the shine of his watch. And horror sets in.

“You wanted him to stay?” Joel asks, bringing you up for air for half a second.

You’re quiet when you reply. “…No. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.”

And that’s somehow scarier. That you didn’t want this decent, attractive-enough man around you. That the entire time he sat nipping your ear, your eyes, your hands, your heart was searching all over the room for Joel. Listening for the twang of his voice, looking for him out of your peripheral. Counting every second until he sauntered back to your side.

It’s rolling. The feeling. Like a snowball gaining speed down a mountain. Starts off a twinge, a plucking somewhere buried deep in your heart, and turns and turns and turns until it’s a weight behind your ribcage. Unable to burst free.

You take Joel’s wrist and move his hand to the curve of your thigh, then lock your fingers between his. He lets you. You lift your free hand to the cut of his jawline, training your fingers down his bristled beard, and he lets you do that, too. And when you pull his face down to meet yours, lips warm and wet and starving, he opens his mouth and slips his tongue past your teeth.

Your hands are knotting in his hair. You’re leaning back, trying to pull him down on top of you, but he’s stronger. His hands take a strong grip of your waist and hoist you over the center console and into his lap, your knees pressing into the soft leather either side of his hips.

“You gonna tell me what you’re up to, pretty girl?” he asks, tipping his head back. His shirt smells like his cologne. Fresh, sharp, clean. It sends your head spinning.

Your lips find his jawline and nip kisses and bites along the sharp ridge. He tastes like whiskey, tastes like the sun, tastes like he did four days ago. Sweet and smoky and laced with something intoxicating.

Joel sighs. His hands knead into your hips, and he pushes you down, grinding you into his body.

He’s hard. Already.

“Feels like you already know,” you mutter, still peppering his neck with kisses.

He laughs the cocky way he always does when you’re on this road, heading this way. His hands find your hair again and he pulls your head back, drawing a whine from your lips.

“You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, rubbing your damp panties over the bulge in his pants.

Joel unzips his trousers and shifts the waistband loose. You move his hands and peel back the top of his boxers yourself, and he watches from under heavy lids as you take him in both hands.

“That’s – my girl,” he chokes, eyes following your pumping fists. His head tips back with a quiet groan.

You push yourself up, shuffle nearer to him until your cunt hovers over his cock, and pull your panties to the side. You’re fucking soaked, already wet enough that Joel’s thick head catches on the cusp of your entrance as you line him up, stealing a gasp from your lips.

You sink, slowly, letting him push through into your sex inch by inch, feeling yourself pull open around him. Your brows furrow, jaw falls wide at the white-hot feeling between your legs, and you look up to see your expression reflected in Joel’s.

His hands clutch at your hips. “So – fucking – tight,” he hums, eyes rolling.

You lock your knees and begin bouncing, resting your hands on top of Joel’s. You’re steadily picking up pace, each nudge of his tip against the edge of your pussy sending another spasm of stars across your quickly-blinding vision.

“Off,” Joel mumbles against your lips, fingers pinching the fabric of your shirt.

“Huh?” you ask back, looking down to where he’s already peeling it up your torso.

“Just the skirt,” he pants, desperate, “nothin’ else.”

You lift your arms and let him pull the polo from your body, tossing it onto the carpeted floor. Joel unhooks your bra and pulls the lace down, before he’s angling his hips up again, hitting you somewhere deep enough inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

And then his lips are on your naked chest, sinking into the valley between your breasts, kissing over to your nipple. His tongue flicks over and over until the bud is pointed, enough to take it between his lips and graze over it with his teeth.

Your thighs are burning. Your skirt sits bunched up on your hips, only just covering your ass as Joel’s hands press into the supple skin, lifting you effortlessly up and down. You melt into his touch, let him do the work for a few seconds as he sits back in his seat to watch your body on his.

“My good – girl,” he groans, voice thick with arousal. “You know how pretty you look right now?”

You hook your hand around his neck, draw him in a little nearer. Shake your head with a filthy smile on your lips. “Tell me.”

Joel laughs shakily. “Wanna – fuckin’ – show you off to everyone, babygirl.”

He’s kissing you slowly, his tongue pressed to yours, when you pull back and separate your lips. He’s planted a seed in your mind.

Joel’s hips stop moving immediately. “Y’okay?” he asks, light hand on the side of your head, keeping your eyes on him.

You nod, breathing heavy. “Mhm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, “just…”

You look down to your skirt, your bare thighs spread over Joel’s lap. The thought flips over and over in your head, unsure if it’s brave enough to trot down to your lips and show itself to Joel.

“Baby?”

It’s Joel, though. Same guy who bent you over his desk, same guy who fucked you senseless feet away from his flight attendants. Same guy who, a few days ago, you were in this exact position with: writhing in next to nothing on his lap.

Fuck it. Right?

“…want him to watch,” you say, in a small voice.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change, save for the way his eyes narrow. “Want who to watch?”

You look at him a beat longer, and it sinks in. He gets it.

“Yeah, babygirl? That what you want?”

“Mhm,” you reply, shifting with him when he starts moving his hips again. The car moves forward, pushing you closer into him. “Want him to – watch you fuck me.”

“Dirty girl. You want him to watch you cum for daddy, pretty girl?”

“Ye-ah,” you moan, Joel’s hands now pushing your waist down, the stretch of his cock deep inside you almost burning with pleasure.

“Yeah, you do,” he whispers, watching as your face pulls and your brows knit together.

“Only cum for you, daddy,” you whimper.

“I know, darlin’, I know. Close your eyes.”

By this point, Joel’s assured tone, his strong hands on your hips, his fucking length buried inside you, are enough to convince you. You just do as you’re fucking told – as soon as you’re fucking told.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder and feeling him turn, his lips pressed close to your ear.

“Good girl. He there?”

The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare.

“Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel.

“He watching?”

“Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily.

“Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”

You focus on the feeling of Joel, cock fucking deep into you, nuzzling against your walls and splitting you open; the sound of his voice in your ear, gently encouraging, sweetly reassuring; the smell of him, the taste of him, the heat from his skin, and…the sight of the steel-blue stare behind your eyes. The tight polo shirt. The round biceps. Watching you.

Watching you be fucked by someone else. Watching you come undone for someone else. For the same guy whose stare he couldn’t shake while he so much as talked to you. Watching your face as it twists in filthy pleasure; listening to you make sounds, whisper words, whisper daddy in the ear of your fucking boss; have him whisper words back that make your cunt tighten around him and push the image of Daniel two steps back with shock.

“Tell me again, angel.” Joel’s voice starts to swipe Daniel away.

Your eyes peel open, the backseat of the Rolls a blur as you roll your head back. “What, daddy?” you whimper.

His hand takes your jaw, holds you in line with his own. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

You breathe a laugh. It pulls across your mouth two seconds later. “M-me.”

Joel mirrors your grin. His hips buck once. You cry out. “Yeah?”

“Uhuh,” you yelp, getting louder as he snaps up into you deeper, faster, harder.

You’re drawing around him, warm and wet, feeling him deep in your stomach as your movements become sloppy and staggered. Pleasure swirls like a whirlpool between your legs, tightening, tightening, tightening.

Joel’s face sharpens into your vision. His eyes are fixed on yours. You watch his lips shape the words good girl, before he pulls your foreheads together, noses flush against one another.

“’n who fucks it like this?” he asks into your mouth.

You take a deep breath, inhaling his question, and let a satisfied exhale carry your answer back out.

“Just y-you, daddy.”

And you both fall.

You rock back and forth as the feeling drowns you both; open-mouthed, silently screaming, eyes trained on one another as you ride out your high together.

You throw your head back, eyes losing focus just inches under the stars until they blur into little white halos. Your arms lift up to lean against the tiny dotted lights, steadying yourself.

Joel’s hands clamp around your waist, holding you down on his cock as he shoots hot ropes of cum deep inside you, mixing with your own and filling you up. Your name escapes his lips hand in hand with a deep, throaty moan.

You body aches. Your cunt throbs around him, still humming with pleasure as your body curls again, falling forward until your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. His hands run up and down your spine, lips press featherlight kisses to your ear, shhing, whispering praise, bringing you slowly back into the car with him.

“Daddy…” you whisper into the soft cotton of his shirt, and you feel the weight of his cheek on your head.

His hands cup your cheeks and he lifts your face until you’re staring at one another. Your eyes are tired, you can hardly keep them open, but Joel holds you upright.

“We gotta stop this,” he whispers, and your foreheads fall together again as you laugh. “I’m gettin’ too old for it, baby.”

He’s still buried deep inside, slowly softening, but you don’t want him to go. Not yet. He reaches for your bra, helps you slip it back on, and you bend back to take your shirt in two fingers.

When you’re dressed, you sink back into him.

Joel laughs, brushing the wisps of your hair disturbed by pulling your shirt over your head. “That what you were thinkin’ about? While he was talkin’ to you?”

You smile lazily. Shake your head no. “Was thinking…about you taking me to the Italian he was talking about.”

Joel’s smile grows bigger. Biggest you think you’ve ever seen him smile before. It breaks into a laugh, a toothy chuckle, and then he kisses you.

You melt into him, tongue and teeth crashing against one another. Joel’s open palms surf along your thighs, molding around your skin. He squeezes the dimpled skin on your hips between his fingers.

“Tonight work for you?” he asks, and you giggle.

“No,” you tell him, “I got Martha’s to-do list to work through.”

He nods knowingly, eyes closing. “You want a hand with it?”

You smirk. “Can we fool around in your office between items?”

His head tips back against the headrest with an obvious expression. “What do you think?”

The car slows to a stop and Rand’s knuckles rap against the glass of the partition. You slip off of Joel’s lap, fix yourselves quickly, and then amble off back to the top floor, still a little weak in the knees.

“Home time, Martha,” Joel calls almost as soon as the elevator doors pull open.

“Excuse me?” she yells back.

He laughs. “I’m lettin’ you go early. It ain’t fair that we get to go have our fun ‘n you’re stuck here ‘til five. Let us know what needs done, ‘n then you can get goin’.”

“Ain’t that chivalrous?” Martha beams, blinking at you.

You saunter by her with a smile and toss your bag under your desk. You spin around, brace yourself against the arms of your chair, and throw yourself back against the comfortable leather.

“So,” she announces, almost fucking skipping over to you with her trusty notepad back in her clutches. “I whittled it down to just six things, so it shouldn’t keep you much longer than five o’clock…”

You lift your brows and nod along.

“…as long as you don’t find anything to distract yourselves with, that is.”

----------

taglist: @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @noisynightmarepoetry @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @kittenlittle24 @suzmagine @adaslittleblog @bbyanarchist @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @dizzyforyou @partyofone3413 @whatsliferightnow @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

[superhellstiel]

The Season 8 Destiel Meta Post Nobody Asked For (and why I think the writers had a Destiel endgame option in mind for season 8)

Okay, so here's the long version of this post that almost nobody wanted, but I'm writing it anyway. This is LONG. I'm sorry. And I want to start with it seems like s8 is polarizing, but I rather liked it, and I think it's because I live in the (delusion?) truth of this theory. Stay with me if you want to Believe too. I think Season 8 was written with two possible outcomes in mind; and with an endgame Destiel being the more likely of the two that the writers anticipated. Sounds insane, I am aware. You will need to stick with me here and extend some trust, but I promise I can show my work.

We need to set the scene: It's 2012. We are launching headfirst into the height years of tumblr fan culture. Gangnam Style grips the nation. Destiel is huge in fanfiction & tumblr land. However, interestingly, we're about two years past show's peak. Already once SPN was slated to end with S5's natural arc conclusion, but it didn't-- it was renewed because it was making the CW money, simple as. They have pushed on into the Sera Gamble era with Seasons 6 and 7, which have their respective flashes of brilliance, but all-in-all generally struggled to find footing in the post-Apocalypse Supernatural verse that was never actually planned for. It's pretty evident that the writing and plotting isn't nearly as tight as S1-5, simply because 1-5 was all mapped out from the get go.

It's been interesting returning to the fandom after a decade, because I'm finding a lot of people now who really liked Season 7. No hate, to each their own, and maybe it was just the circles I was in at the time, but in the moment S7 wasn't received well at all. It felt like they kept inflating the "big bad" to heights that sometimes struggled to get fully fleshed out (which, to be fair, continues to be a writing problem going forward). And while watching S7 in Netflix binge-mode it doesn't feel quite so bad, at the time having a year's worth of your fave TV show where Sam and Dean are systematically and pointlessly stripped of everything that gave the show its signature personality was nothing short of torture (killing Cas, the Impala, torching Bobby's place, killing Bobby), all in the name of more man-pain. All of that punctuated with a lot of filler episodes that felt like more misses than hits, the absolutely insufferable Amy Pond plot, and dick jokes just because the writers thought it was funny.

Everyone's opinions on S6-7 aside, though, Supernatural wasn't landing financially for the CW either. Season 5 aired on Thursday nights, which is a fairly well respected time slot for established and successful shows, but with Season 6 and 7 we see a demotion to Friday night, 9 PM ET. This is basically the kiss of death for a cable TV show. You sent your shows to Friday night to die. The CW was looking to the future with newer shows and the writing was on the walls that this circus was probably wrapping up soon.

However, in true Supernatural fashion, it wouldn't fucking die. Honestly, and I can only speculate here, I imagine such a die-hard and still-growing fanbase coinciding with a huge spike in social media + ease of access to fan spaces with the surge in commonplace smart phones/laptop computers is probably what kept performing CPR on this show.

So along comes season 8. The show is being passed to Jeremy Carver and Ben Edlund as a returning writer to head up the show. Other people have discussed the Sera Gamble era in depth, but what you need to know here, basically, is that the Carver/Edlund mind are ones that a) have not shied away from queer themes and b) are a lot of those Destiel classics. We're talking Ghostfacers, The End, My Bloody Valentine, On the Head of a Pin, The Man Who Would Be King (Carver), and Free to Be You and Me, Point of No Return (Edlund). Essentially, Sera's philosophy tended to be "strip it back to just the Winchester brothers" and Carver & Edlund were generally more open to having the surrounding cast of supporting characters. And these two definitely don't shy away from Dean & Castiel's relationship.

Here is where my theory gets a little speculative: I believe this is the point where where SPN was given one last hail mary by the CW. New writers and a Wednesday night slot, you have one more chance to make this work, otherwise you're getting the axe. It was renewed pretty late, in early May of 2012 (compare to S6 being announced Feb 2010). S7 had barely scraped its renewal in late April the year prior, too.

Okay, so let's put ourselves in that position for a moment as showrunners sitting down in the Supernatural writer's room in May of 2012. There are two things that might happen: 1) you just might pull it off, and you do such a good job you pull the show from the proverbial grave or 2) you don't pull it off, and you need to make sure the show ends on a satisfying note that wraps things up neatly. And you need to write and film a season that, until you get the yes or no from the CW, can do either and both or neither, and you may need to pivot in one direction or the other pretty quickly while you're filming the back half of your season.

Enter the Destiel endgame theory, which I believe was their scenario 2. Time to introduce the exhibits from the season.

General: Flashbacks. I wish they'd explored Purgatory more too, but it would've taken up too much time if they might have to fast-track a series finale later. (Also Amelia should've been all made up in Sam's head to cope with losing Dean but again, different post. Maybe it became a time constraint to explore too much too, if they thought the show might be ending.)

The evidence:

8x01 We Need to Talk About Kevin & 8x02 - & What's Up Tiger Mommy? We get flashbacks of Dean tearing Purgatory apart to find Castiel. When he finds him, he makes it clear he's coming back to Earth with him.

8x03 - Heartache- This episode focuses on the love between an immortal being and a human.

8x05 - Blood Brother - Benny/Queer Dean discourse deserves its own post. You can take or leave this one for this post's theory.

8x07 - A Little Slice of Kevin - 1) Dean is clearly hiding a boner when Cas gets out of the shower? 2) We introduce that Dean is deeply upset that Castiel didn't make it through the portal-- to the degree he's faked an entire memory because he'd rather it be his fault Cas is gone than have been abandoned by him

8x08 - Hunteri Heroici - Castiel wants to join Dean as a hunter; we're beginning to establish Castiel's genuine desire to spend his life with the Winchesters. This is then juxtaposed when Naomi forces him to stay away at the end of the episode, further telling us this is Cas' desire vs. Heaven's.

8x11 - Larp and the Real Girl - This is mostly a fun episode, but it's an example of queerness being gently nudged to the forefront of plots without immediate dismissal or being the butt of a joke-- rare for SPN at the time.

8x13 - Everybody Hates Hitler - Ah, the Aaron "He was my Gay Thing" moment. Dean leans all the way into the flirting. Does not give the "don't swing that way" speech, gets flustered, is at a loss for words. He appears disappointed later when he was wrong. This has little precedent on the show when Dean's been perceived as gay, he usually dismisses it very quickly.

February 11, 2013: Supernatural is renewed for season 9, a week after Everybody Hates Hitler airs.

Per these estimates, 8x18 is the next episode to be filmed post-announcement, beginning 2/12.

8x16 - Remember the Titans - A Forbidden Love plot. You can take or leave this one for this theory.

8x17 - Goodbye Stranger - OK, here is our inflection point for editing, in my opinion. The last month of eps, more or less, have been pretty trials-centric or one-off. This episode airs 3/20/2013. At this point, we know we're getting a season 9, but we've been building with all of the above, and this ep was filmed pre-S9 announcement... so much so that we have an "I love you" in the original script for the infamous crypt scene. I fully believe it was filmed and edited out in post.

Second, Castiel turns the walls of Naomi's office/lobotomy lounge the bi pride colors during the crypt scene. Someone on the crew at Supernatural literally tweeted that morning to be on the lookout for special choices in Naomi's office. It was very intentional. Why else pick these colors and declare they're intentional? (I have searched up and down for this tweet but it was rare i was there i remember it [the tweet] all too well please trust me)

UPDATE: Tumblr hive mind found it and it was Jerry Wanek saying they were��� crosses? In the intersecting lines in the windows? (that's how lines work? lol) And it was amidst a spell of saying fans were reaching in their analyses, and though some of his replies have that tinge, it's not direct about the color commentary. I never saw the back half of that saga or forgot about it, didn’t mean to misrepresent anything! Either way I’ve been corrected but that office is still bisexual and you can’t tell me otherwise

And don't get me started on the "unicorn" stuff, that one person you'd throw everything away for (but I understand this can be interpreted in many ways) However, the season is renewed, we've picked the path they never thought they'd actually pull off-- now we've got to backpedal this Destiel just enough to not impact our precious CW bottom lines, but not piss off our faction of fangirls who watch to ship.

8x20 - Pac Man Fever - Charlie tells Dean she thinks Castiel seems "dreamy". Charlie is very gay and would only say this to elicit a reaction from Dean, we don't really get much of one. Again, lack of a "speech" on his sexuality.

*Note 8x18 Freaks & Geeks and 8x20 Pac Man Fever are filler eps, I think they could've been pulled if we needed the extra time to sprint toward a series finale*

8x21 - The Great Escapist - 8x23 Sacrifice- We hit a real fast escalation toward the season finale from here. I actually think this overarching plot was more or less always the idea for the ending, but how exactly it was executed depended on the renewal status.

The Alternate Series Finale Ending (That I believe they thought they'd have to do when they wrote it): If they hadn't gotten renewed, we are set up for Sam to close the gates of Hell and Metatron to use a spell to close Heaven using the heart of a nephilim (product of human + angel love), the bow a cupid (an angel that arranges love in humans), and the grace of an angel in love with a human. Hell and Heaven shutter up, Sam dies, and Dean is left with a human Castiel who has, for the better part of the season, already been "testing out" being a hunter alongside Dean and has literally moved heaven and earth to have this. He will not have to be the immortal doomed to love a human, as in 8x03, or have the forbidden love of 8x16; we receive resolution on those subjects for our heroes that the monster-of-the-week characters did not. They resolve their feelings for each other, because if we kept Dean's crypt "I love you" and we establish Castiel's grace was in love with a human... well, what else is there to say? (Oh, yes, and they did exactly this and pulled the Destiel trigger in S15 when it was all ending.)

The Actual Ending (That I think they got surprised about the renewal and had to do): Backpedal. Edit. Only drop little subtext again. We just need Castiel's Regular Grace TM for this spell. We can keep selling merch and con tickets and get views if we appeal to the widest audience possible, and we're not taking risks now that we've performed a literal miracle rescue from a Friday night 9 PM slot.

And once we start Season 9, we get a LOT of being hit over the head with Castiel & Dean's Heterosexuality TM, so much so it's awkward and even out of character. (Human Cas sighing about boobs in early s9? Like please. Get real.) It's a HARD left turn, but it makes more sense if you consider it all in the context above. I just don't think they'd have gone in so hard on the bullet points I listed if they had thought Season 9 was in the bag.

TL;DR: I think we might've had Destiel in 2013, but if we had, we wouldn't have also had the rest of the seasons. Whether or not that's a good thing is up to you, but I think it was a combination of a lot of external factors, capitalism, and, well, it being 2013, sadly. I think they were cowards about it, but at the same time, even the writers probably weren't pulling every string, they also needed to answer to other agendas. Television is a medium that is rife with the push and pulls of a thousand factors that aren't the pure story. Idk how to really wrap this, but this has been over ten years in the making so enjoy the fruits of my brain rot.

[viperbunnies]

100+ Followers request event!

Erm how did that happen

Hello! I wanted to do a small event to thank everyone! I'm grateful for everyone and I can't thank everyone enough--- I'm not good with words but I really appreciate each interaction I have with my fellow twst fans <3

CURRENT STATUS: Closed! (Max slots reached!)

For 100+ Followers I'll open requests for the following:

Animated Chibis

OR Watercolor bust ups! (Featuring two characters: 1 character and a tsum ) OR Fullbody chibi ! (Single character only, I don’t have a general style for this but I try to make the pose dynamic or so)

General rules: - You are free to use the requested art for personal use only! - Also given how busy I can get, I can't promise I'll do everyone's request-- It will be limited to a total of 20-25 (I'll still probably give you a quick doodle of your oc as consolation) - Please do not rush me, I am only human and have a life outside the internet. - If your request is unclear or makes me uncomfortable I may not be able to do it. - I won't do: Proships, Inc3st ships, Nsfw, Non-twst oc

Who can request? - Followers can request! (New ones are welcome!) - Limited to one request per person!

What can you request? - Requests are limited to TWST Characters, Twst ocs (Yuusonas, Twstsonas, or any Twst ocs) - For the bust ups you can request Oc x Canon or Canon x canon (Anything with Ortho, Cheka, Gidel, Najma is automatically platonic)

If this is all clear here's how you can send a request! - Specify if you want an animated chibi, bust up, or fullbody chibi. - Send me a reference sheet if it’s an oc! (Try not to give written descriptions, I do better with Visual references-- even a picrew of your oc will suffice!) - For animated chibi you can give me a gist of what you want it’ll be limited to simple movements since this is 5-8 frames at most. - For Bust ups, specify whether the ship is romantic or platonic! and which character will be the tsum. - If you've read the rules and agree to them add a snake emoji to your request or i'll ignore your request (this is just me making sure you are aware of the rules - riddle voice)

If you've read this all send your requests over to @viperbnuy (Any requests sent on this acc will be ignored)

I will finish these after thursday or during the weekends when I have the most free time🫶

Once again thank you to everyone!

[gwydionmisha]

The Boomers Attack: We are Fucked

Summary:  On the 16th, Monday a week ago, HOA announced an emergency meeting that members weren't allowed to vote or participate in.  Thursday they rammed through a special assessment for $4416 and change due in 90 days.  This is on top of the $141 and change they raised us every month in august.  I am currently spending nearly everything on housing and bills.

The rate hike was legal as it was voted through properly: Reasonable notice. People allowed to vote. The second very likely was not, but that likely won't make a difference. See below.

I contacted Medical social Worker immediately, who sent me to HUD Monday, who sent me to another agency, who sent me an email of places to call.  I have called places and left messages where I could.  A couple didn't apply or I need to try again.

Really though, according to the guy at the second organization, we would need 51% of people living here to do a class action suit to stop it.  We can't post signs anywhere, and according to Squirrel, the Boomers are using the Facebook community to organize to sue anyone who can't afford to pay on time. (I don't Facebook; Squirrel does.)  They are keeping ears open for people involved in organizing to lower the monthly rate increase, but anyone drawing attention is liable to be sued in retaliation, so... yeah.

Squirrel can cover $2000, maybe even half.  We will see.  2000's about a month's pay for them.  It is impossible for me as I have about a hundred a month after bills and I'm already committed to 1. Pay mechanics so the car will make it to November, and some other commitments, like gas to get me to physio, cat litter, etc., out of the hundredish I have after bills. To give you an idea of the scale of the catastrophe, my half is about 3 month's entire income.

I will keep phoning around.  I still need to call HOA, but given how draconian they are being, I don't have much hope of a payment plan.

I know there are more important things going on in the world than my housing. Still, I don't have a lot of options.

If you can afford to chip in:

Paypal Gwydion

[incorrectpnatquotes]

Starch Radness 8 Prediction Bracket Contest

Here’s the bracket for Starch Radness 8! This year’s theme is "Who most deserves to say f*ck?"

We’re continuing our prediction bracket contest where you can win merch from the Paranatural store or items from Zack Morrison’s itch.io. Additionally...

ONE EIGHTFOLD PLUSHIE

is up for grabs as a prize this year!

In the event of ties, the entrant who submitted their bracket first will be given the first chance to choose the Eightfold plushie!!

Because we are continuing to use Tumblr polls this year and you can see the live results after voting, entrants may NOT post screenshots or percentages of the results before the poll’s voting has ended. Encouraging people to vote one way or another or saying that X choice is winning or losing is permitted, but we feel giving exact numbers may sway the voting too much. If there is an issue, we will talk to you about it first to attempt to resolve it, but we retain the right to disqualify you if a resolution cannot be reached.

Here’s how it works:

If you want to participate, you may either:

fill out a template bracket, as shown above and submit the photos to this blog

ask us for a link to a Google Sheet version of the bracket, fill that out, and let us know when you're done so we can screenshot your bracket

If you would like to request a Google Sheet bracket to fill out, send an ask to this blog, and I will reach out to you via my main @blairdiggory with a link to your personal bracket.

***You must tell me when you're done filling out the bracket on Google Sheets so that I can take screenshots. Brackets filled out on Google Sheets are not entered until the screenshots have been taken.***

**Additionally, please be aware that I am unable to be on Tumblr most of the work day, but I will do my best to provide links every couple of hours. If you choose to fill out a Google Sheets bracket instead of editing the above photos, you may get your bracket sent to you later than you would like, which could delay your entry into the contest. Requests for Google Sheets brackets will be answered in the order they were received.**

These brackets must be turned submitted to Incorrect Pnat Quotes before 9 PM Eastern Time on Thursday, February 27th. You will receive a message or ask from @blairdiggory​ to confirm that we received your bracket.

Prizes

The person with the most points at the end of Starch Radness 8 wins one item of their choice from the Paranatural merch store, the Eightfold plushie, or the entire library from Zack’s itch.io! Second place gets one item from Zack’s itch.io.

If first place passes on the Eightfold plushie, the second place winner will be given the chance to choose the plushie as their prize. If the Eightfold plushie isn’t chosen, it will be rolled over to Starch Radness 10 (and future years if still not chosen).

Again, in the event of ties, the entrant who submitted their bracket first will be given the first chance to choose the Eightfold plushie!

How to fill out a template bracket and how scoring works are explained under the cut. Have fun playing! :D

First, I’m going to fill out the bracket with who I think will win each round (which is NOT necessarily who *I* think most deserves to say f*ck*). For example, I think Max is going to beat out Ms. Baxter. So on the line stemming from their bracket, I write "Max" like this:

I do this for all pairs in the first round. Then, we get to the pairs in the second round. For my prediction bracket, I believe the first two characters facing off will be Max and Jean Garcia. Of those two, I believe Max will win, so I write that his name the line stemming from that pair’s bracket.

Continue until all lines are filled out!

Points and Scoring:

After every round, you will tally how many characters that you correctly guessed would win the bracket. Round 1 is 1 point per character guessed correctly, round 2 is 2 points per character guessed correctly, etc. As an example, say Max wins his bracket, but Jean Garcia loses his bracket. I win 1 point for that section because Max won but Jean Garcia lost (and Penny Spender won). If Max wins against Penny Spender, I get 2 points for that section. Then, I add the points up at the end of the game, so for this section, so far I have 3 points.

The person with the most points at the end of Starch Radness 8 wins an item of their choice from the Paranatural merch store, the Eightfold plushie, or the entire library from Zack’s itch.io, and second place gets one item from Zack’s itch.io.

Still have questions? Feel free to send us an ask, and we can clarify. :)

[asphalt-cocktail]

Lead Us to Temptation- Masterlist

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Cowboy/western/outlaw AU, religious themes, Midwestern Gothic, dark themes, guns, violence, misogyny, crass language, alcohol, smoking, explicit content, mature content, overall mature themes. The story takes place a little further north than the typical wild west setting because I am a Midwestern girl at heart. Bucky is going to be 10 years older than reader (i am trying not to use Y/N). The time line is the late 1880s/1890s. As always my reader is most likely plus sized/curvy. If you see any Red Dead Redemption references no you didn't

DNI if you are under 18 or if these themes upset you.

Read me on AO3

A/N: Well howdy there folks! Isn't it crazy when you say you're going to retire from writing fanfictions and then are possessed to write one? Anyways I'm back and better than ever and I hope you all enjoy the ramblings of someone who is terminally H word if you know what I mean. As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated. There will be no tag list because i am far too lazy to do that, but feel free to turn on notifications for me or bookmark it on AO3 where it will also be posted per usual. Also I'm sorry if its not 100% historically accurate, I'm doing a lot of research in fashion and what not but at the end of the day I'm just a girl. The tag to find this in my blog will be #LUT

🔥- Smut

Chapter 1- Precious Lord Take my Hand

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt 🔥

Chapter 3- Hell Hath No Fury

[cerridwen007]

Corruption of Innocence. Part 1.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f!reader.

Word count: 5K (18+) minors dni!

Summary: You are the main topic of daydreams that have recently been flooding Matt's mind. Ever since he met you, you've held a strong place in his head. Every part of him has become obsessed with you, the thought of loving you, growing old together and the thought of taking your innocence for himself frequently saturate his thoughts. 

Notes/warnings: SMUT, horny af Matt, possessive/obsessive Matt, soft Matt, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), suggesting of p in v, power dynamic, unhealthy relationship, obsessive reader, sub reader, virgin reader, dom Matt, masturbation, dirty talk, no use of y/n.

A/N: Okay like I said in bio, I am quite new to tumblr and fanfic writing so I'm experimenting with a few different writing styles/conventions, level of detail and overall subject in the fics. So if you want to let me know if you found this smut enjoyable/easy to read, that would be much appreciated thanks. Also I am currently writing part 2 and was going to wait till I was further into writing with that but I just couldn’t wait to post this. I love it too much. I just wanna add that I am so grateful for the love and interaction I've received on my writing. I honestly never would have thought that so many of you would read my work let alone enjoy it, so for that I thank you and hope I can continue to deliver pieces of writing y'all enjoy. 

Corruption of Innocence. Part 2.

***********

He was obsessed with you, like no man has been or ever will. Not that it was hard or anything, you were a very good looking girl that had turned a few heads in her time, but no one had seemed to appreciate you like he did. Matt had his fair share of relationship, hookups, onenight stands and such but none of them had fulfilled anything more that his animalistic want to fuck. 

You were a different breed, rare, one of a kind, everytime he touched you he felt chills that rain throughout his entire body, setting his soul on fire and freezing it simultaneously. It was like touching an angel, you were healing his soul.

“Ah Matt, are you okay, did you need something?” you asked, a little confused at the man who had been standing in front of you for a while now.

He had been daydreaming in front of you, he had thought of you many times in many different scenarios but he never had been lost in his thoughts of you in the same room, let alone right in front of you.

“Oh.. ah yeah that’s right I wanted to see if you could reschedule the appointment I had with the Lopez family for Thursday instead of Friday." Matt choked out.

“Sure. anything else, boss?” you asked innocently.

A million thoughts raced across his mind. You slowly but enthusiastically sucking his dick, taking all of his length that you could before you choked, pulling it back out and teasing the tip of your tongue, precum dripping into your mouth, with a single drop escaping from the corner of your mouth. You were not looking away as his head dropped back between his shoulders, a loud grunt coming from his throat as he exhaled. Every wet swipe of your tongue sent shivers down his spine. That little scenario was one of many that often flashed brightly across his mind like an advertisement.

Matt quickly cleared his throat and as subtly as he could dropped the case file he was holding a little lower in attempts to hide his growing excitement. “No, that will be all…. Thank you.”

He quickly walked away to try and dissect that awkward encounter alone in his office and if he could stop thinking about you, do some work too. Which was very unlikely. He closed the door to his office and sat down behind the desk in a huff. He put his face in his hands and deeply exhaled. He was very confused about many things all surrounding you. You were like his kryptonite and anti-venom all at once.

Ever since you entered his life 6 months ago, becoming his new assistant and eventually even entering his friend group, he had been fascinated by you (especially because you were so hard to read unlike everyone else in his life) which quickly led to obsession.

He had always been a charmer and good with girls even in university (though his skills have much increased since then). But it had always been easy for him to bed any girl he wanted and that wanted him. And knowing the slut he is, it was many, very frequently. But around you he often became awkward and struggled to get the right words out, if any at all.

He was both frustrated and loved that you made him this way, very different to the experience he had with other girls. You were so perfect in every way, kind, caring, funny, sassy when you wanted to be, intelligent, had many talents and hobbies, confident and more. Yet he had many conflicting thoughts about you.

He wanted to spend hours sensually kissing every inch of your body, to study it so he could know it like the back of his hand, yet he also wanted to make you scream out his name as he claimed your pussy was his and nobody else's. His daydreams of you were often filled with starting a family with you and meeting your family and adopting pets together then quickly turned into how fucking pretty you would look as you pathetically whimpered his name, too drunk on his cock to form any other words than that. 

He was torn about having dirty thoughts about you, especially having no idea if the feelings were reciprocated. On one hand he felt almost gross thinking such dirty thoughts about a girl who came across as quite innocent especially compared to his previous romances but on the other side of him, maybe even the devil in him got even more worked up thinking about taking your innocence and being the only one allowed to praise and use your body. Corrupting you for his own entertainment.

***********

You were a class A simp. Since early teen years, you had a problem with getting crushes and becoming obsessed with them. It started off like any crush of course giggling and blushing at everything they say about you, but soon it became more, too much in fact. You would put them on such a high pedestal you would disregard and not even acknowledge any questionable or bad traits they had, even if your friends tried to warn you about it. You would simply brush it off saying it was nothing. They would appear in your dreams frequently, you would often find yourself talking to yourself and daydreaming about what it would be like to be with them and spend the rest of your lives together. 

All this infatuation led to severe disappointment, after a long while; sometimes up to years and years, the hazy cloud of perfection that you viewed them through would slowly disappear for one reason or another and you would crumble. You were a very sensitive and emotional person so it felt like your heart was literally breaking every time this happened. All over some of the shittest guys that would barely even look your way. 

You had gotten alot better since then. It had taken a long time to get over and past this self spiralling routine you had; lots of counselling and long talks with friends and just a lot more focusing on yourself. In fact for the last 3 years you had managed to stay away from developing severely unhealthy crushes, just keeping it nice and casual with the few guys that you had briefly dated, reminding yourself to look out for red flags and not to put them on some sort of perfection pedestal in your mind. You were quite proud of yourself and it was going good till you met Matt Murdock.

Looking back at all the guys you had previously become attached to, they were all pretty shitty. Either they were misogynistic or racist or made snide and creepy jokes or all three. Matt was nothing like that. You made sure you kept notes of anything out of pocket he would say and how he would act around others and had found no red flags. 

Yes, he was a bit of a flirt with other women (which you would deny to yourself but made you a little jealous) but he would alway keep it respectful and know that the girl felt comfortable around him. Still you tried your best to not think or acknowledge him more than you have to at work and social gatherings, still determined to withhold the new values you kept for yourself involving men. But it sure was damn hard. He was pretty fucken perfect.

Over the last month, as much as you hated yourself for it, you found yourself again slipping into your old, bad habits. You tried everything to stop it, distracting yourself with cleaning and cooking and hanging out with friends and everything else you could think of. None of which did much at all. The one thing that did seem to help stop or slow your growing infatuation for Matt was one thing. 

You were inexperienced, and I'm talking very inexperienced. The furthest you had gotten was a very awkward teeth banging into each other's makeout session that resulted in chipping the guy's tooth. You always tried your best to forget that memory. Even though you had been on a few dates with a few different guys it never got very far because of your fear of intimacy. I mean don't get me wrong you would love to be fucked the shit out of and then cuddle after and do allsorts of dirty stuff in the bedroom. Lord knows you thought about it often but you never had the balls to actually do any of that stuff. 

Whenever there was an opportunity, you panicked and kept overthinking about everything. Does your breath smell bad, what if you accidentally bite him too hard, what if he is actually a mad scientist and he's going to steal your DNA and make a clone out of you?! All this stuff was actually just anxiety. The real reason you had never gotten very far is because you were scared, so scared of being so vulnerable with someone, letting them into your most secret thoughts and letting them see you whole, imperfections and all. You were so caught up in your insecurity, that you never let anyone truly in, afraid of not being good enough causing them to leave you. So when Matt had asked you if you wanted to hang out at his place tonight, one on one, since Karen, Foggy and Marci were all busy, you got really nervous and spit out an awkward “..Yes!... sure I'd love to.”

**********

“Great, I'll see you at 8 tonight.” Matt said calmly. But he wasn't calm at all. In fact he too was quite nervous as being with you in the office or in a group setting it was hard to keep his hands off you. Your scent drove him wild, oftentimes throughout the day at work he would have to sneak off to the bathroom and relieve himself, driven mad by your pheromones filling his nostrils, making his cock throb in pain. Imagining it was your soft hand or wet mouth relieving him instead.

He honestly didn't know what came over himself asking you to come over to his place by yourself so the two of you could hang. He had no clue how he was going to keep his dick under wraps having your strong scent be right under his nose at all times. He certainly wouldn't be able to sneak off to the bathroom during the night to ease the pain. The thoughts continually plagued his mind through the rest of the evening at work and throughout his walk home. He pushed the thoughts aside when he got home though, having instead to focus on tidying up his place a little and getting ready for you.

After giving his place a little clean up and ordering the takeout food in advance to come 30 mins after you arrive, he decided to have a shower to calm his nerves before you came. He turned on the water to the temperature he likes and stripped his clothes off, stepping in the shower he sighs deep, warm water relaxing his tension filled muscles. The hot spray easing his muscles, his mind begins to wander again. Without thinking one of his hands brush against thick thighs as he pictures how the awkward conversation earlier could have gone. 

“Sure,anything else boss?” you ask innocently.

Matt's friendly smile turns into a devilish grin. “ I might have one thing in mind that you could help me with, honey.”

You gulp nervously but intrigued. “And what would that be Mr. Murdock?”

Matt chuckles deeply and leans into the desk, very close to your face. “ Make my cock as wet as your pussy is getting right now!”

Matt slowly starts to stroke his firming dick, deep breathes concealed by the noise of the shower raining down on his broad back.

Your voice hitches in your throat as your cheeks redden a dark crimson, you nod and say “yes” in a small voice. You stand up from your desk and walk around to Matthew staring at you with a dark look in his covered eyes. You slowly get on your knees in front of him and begin to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper. You warily look around for Foggy nearby in the office or anyone else visiting. Matt lifts up your chin softly and wipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Don't worry about anyone catching us sweetheart, I'm sure you'll make me cum before anyone finds us.” he smirks, giving you a tender rub on your cheek with his thumb before removing it.

Your cheeks continue to blush and you smile a little.You fasten your pace undoing Matt’s belt and pull down his dress pants. He reaches down and pulls his hard cock loose from his black boxers. You gasp a little intimidated by the sheer size of the veiny monster before you. Without thinking you grab the shaft firmly and put your lips around the head.  Matt quietly groans as his head falls back between his shoulders. You start to bob your head on his tip while stroking the rest of his length with your hand, slick from your saliva dripping down it. 

Breathing deeper and louder, Matt begins to stroke faster and harder on his throbbing cock in the shower. The steam and his sweat make his toned muscles glisten in the low light in the bathroom. Soft moans escape his lips as he strokes wishing like hell that it was your soft hands and mouth, pleasing him instead of his rough calloused hands.

You pussy throbs softly, your panties completely soaking.The smell and sound of your arousal make him growl deeply. Your hunger grows and grows the longer you suck his dick. Each time you bob your head down his shaft you try and take a little more of his length down your throat, desperately fighting back the urge to gag as tears begin to prick your eyes. You fasten your pace stroking him as his moans become louder, sensing he is close. Your teeth lightly graze him for a few seconds causing him to cum.

“Fuck!” Matt groans as he caresses his throbbing cock to the end of his high. 

You slurp up everything leaving no trace making Matt moan deeply. He reaches down to wipe away some droplets that have fallen out the corner of your mouth. Smirking he puts his flaccid cock back into his boxers and does up his pants zipper and belt.

“Fuck that was good, sweetheart!”

Foggy suddenly walks in on the two of you, not having a single clue about the activities that had just occurred seconds ago.

“What are you two doing ?” he asked. You both swiftly look back at Foggy.

“Oh… um… I was just helping Matt tie his shoe.”

Foggy raises his eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Yeah she was helping me cause I pulled my back last night… exercising.” Matt says cooly.

“Right! Exercising… yup, that makes sense!” Foggy replies back to Matt thinking he understood what Matt was covering for. “ Well I'm heading out to Josie’s to meet Karen and Marci who are already there, so I'll see you later?”

“Yup,we’ll be there Foggy!” you say peering from beside Matt's legs. Foggy grins and walks out. Matt waits till Foggy has left the office completely before telling you the coast is clear.

“Okay he is gone!”

“Whew, that was a bit close.” you say as you slowly stand on your sore knees.

“Yeah too close.”  he says while offering a hand up. You, looking at the ground, don't see it and accidently hit your head on it while standing up.

“ Oh shit! Are you okay?” Matt asks you, suddenly very seriously.

“Yeah, I'm okay.” you wince a little before laughing. Matt starts to laugh too.

He leans his forehead against the cool shower tile and deeply exhales. Letting the water wash away any remaining residue of his expulsion. God, not only did he want your body so bad but he also just wanted to be the one who you laugh with, the one who makes corny jokes that you try not to giggle at, the one who makes you smile lovingly at him when he says how pretty you look. Before he can get anymore lost in his thoughts, a knock at the door breaks him from his fantasies. 

“Shit.'' Matt mumbles under his breath even though you won't hear him (he forgets others don't have super hearing like him sometimes) and quickly scrambles to turn the water off and put a towel around his waist. He walks quickly down his hall and opens the door to your confused face, with your heart rate quickening.

“Uh sorry to greet you like this I…. lost track of time in the shower….. Uh but come in, come in. I'll just quickly change. But uh make yourself at home.”

You gulp, trying to not let your eyes wander too much at the sight of Matthew only in a small white towel hanging loosely on hips. His toned abs glisten in the light, still wet from his shower. His v-line looks deliciously good with a happy trail that leads down to the tiniest bit of dark hair you can see before the towel covers the view.

“Yeah, okay sure.” you say awkwardly as Matt steps aside letting you in and closes the door. He has a wide smirk on his face as walks slowly to his bedroom to change, noticing how your heart rate has spiked since you saw him, more than half naked.

You go to sit down on his cold leather couch and nervously begin to fiddle with your fingers, knees drawn tightly together, chewing the inside of your mouth as you do. What am I doing here? You think to yourself. It wouldn't be so bad if I just got up now and left, it wouldn't be that awkward avoiding Matt for the rest of my life right? I mean I'd probably have to quit my job if he didn't fire me out of pure hatred first though. 

Before you can spiral anymore, Matt walks in wearing a tight black t-shirt and light grey track pants and of course a small grin on his face. He goes to sit down beside you, so close he can easily feel your heat radiating off your body onto his. 

“So.. I ordered some Thai food earlier that should arrive in 25 minutes or so if that's cool, I would cook but…”

“Yeah, Thai food sounds good and yeah Karen told me that you're not a very skilled chef mainly due to the lack of ingredients you have on hand and that you don't really like grocery stores either. No offence of course.” 

“No offence taken… You’ve been talking with Karen about me?” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards and one eyebrow raising.

You shuffle in your seat and feel your cheeks warm. Looking down at the ground awkwardly you respond.

“Uh.. Yeah, well I mean no…..well, not all the time of course….. I just, um there’s a few questions that I had about you that came up in conversation…naturally of course.”

He leans in near your ear and whispers. “Well, if there are any more questions that you have. I'm right here to answer them for you.” 

Your face grows redder, you draw in a sharp breath, your thighs unconsciously push together tighter as the heat starts to grow deep in your stomach, catching you off guard with his sultry tone. He notices your heart rate quickening, and the ever growing prominent taste of your arousal in the air. He breathes it in deeply, humming darkly as the sweet aroma fills his nostrils, subtly palming his growing excitement a little through his pants for some relief. He smirks, gathering all the more evidence to support his suspicion that you want him like he wants you.

“Well, I have one question.” you ask shyly.

“And what would that be, honey?”

Your breath hitches in your throat for a second, so you swallow and press on. “I have noticed sometimes that…. that you seem to be more sensitive, like a lot more sensitive to certain things then the rest of us. You pause for a second looking up at his face trying to read his expression before continuing on. “ For example when that squeaky client comes in for an appointment to talk about divorcing her husband, you always look miserable like you're getting a migraine just being near her and her annoying high-pitched voice.”

“Huh, sure seems like you’ve been watching me closely sweetheart.” he responds, teasing you.

Your heart seems to be beating out of your chest as he talks very close to your ear in a slightly deeper voice than his usual, each nickname he refers to you by only makes your pussy wetter. You're afraid that soon a tear will dribble down your leg if he keeps his flirtatious act up.

“Ah, forget I said anything.” you respond, quickly trying to dismiss the topic.

“No, keep going, it’s fine, seems like you care about me.”

“Well yeah, of course I care about you, you're my boss…. and my friend and I just wanted to know if there is anything that I can do… to make it easier for you in those situations I mean.”

Matt eyebrows raise, a little taken aback. Touched at how thoughtful and caring you are, his smile beaming brightly, knowing that you think about him more than just between your thighs, although he's pretty happy about that too. 

“Wow, that’s very kind of you to offer, but you don’t have to worry about me, I've gotten used to dealing with it.” He pauses. “ but… I mean if I suddenly can't deal with it and need some help…I'll let you know.”

You smile sweetly back at him. “Great.” 

 A moment passes between you comfortable in each other's presence before it changes back to sexual tension. You both lean in close, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. Your heart feels as though it will flutter right out of your chest. You bite your lip as Matt subtly licks his bottom lip and grins. His senses overwhelmed happily by your rapidly racing heart, the heat radiating off you and the strong scent of your arousal filling the air. Your eyes flutter close as you lean in further, lips softly brushing against one another. A knock at the door makes you pull back surprised and Matt leans his head down and sighs.

“Well, that’ll be the Thai food.” he tells you, a little annoyed.

You sit awkwardly on Matt’s couch in silence while he pays for the food and brings it to his coffee table. You both sit in silence a good 5 minutes into your meal before you speak, neither party knowing how to seamlessly carry on from the conversation you had before or the almost kiss. You work up the nerve to speak and clear your throat.

“How did you become blind Matt?” you ask him blatantly, catching him off guard. “You don’t have to tell me if you don't want to or you're not comfortable or anything…but I never asked you because I assumed it might be rude but if it's alright I'm curious to know about it.”

“No, it's fine, I can tell you.” Matt takes a deep breath before starting his story. As he speaks, you feel yourself hanging onto every word he says, your eyebrows creased together, listening to him speak about his sorrowful story.

As he finishes talking, you can’t help but stare at him in awe at how much he has been through, yet he still keeps a smile on his face everyday and manages to be such a joyful light in everyone's path he crosses. You feel yourself falling for this man more and more as he opens up to you and shows you a side that you have never seen. You then think “fuck” how am I going to get over this man when he lets me inevitably lets you down, thinking back to your previous obsessive one-sided relationships. God dammit, you were in love with this man.

Matt looks down at his feet feeling a little melancholic after talking about such a sensitive topic for him.

“Thank you… thanks for being so open with me… I know how hard it can be to fully open up and be vulnerable like that.”

Matt smiles, nodding. “Thank you for listening.”

Another silent pause ensues between you, yet this time it's comfortable. Like two longtime friends who have grown to enjoy sitting comfortably in each other's presence without the need for words.

Matt suddenly chuckles to himself. You look at him confused but smiling, fork halfway to your mouth before you stop. “What?”

“Nothing.” Matt says, still smiling to himself.

“No it's not, what is it? Tell me!” you say getting a little impatient, still with a grin.

“Oh it's just some old, dumb question that I used to ask the guys at uni, whenever there was a lull in conversation to lighten the mood.”

“Okay, well ask me then.”

Matt stares at you for a second, grinning before asking you.

“Okay fine. When was the last time you….you know, (you raise your eyebrow intrigued) masterbated?”

“Oh?” you respond blushing, not expecting him to ask you that.

“You don't have to answer that if you don't want to… I shouldn't have said anything, like I said it was a dumb thing I did in college an-” Matt rushes to say.

You giggle, smiling. “No it's fine, I'll answer… I just didn't expect that was what you were going to say.”

Matt smiles shyly. 

“Uh it was like 2 days ago I think.” 

“Oh, cool….cool.” Matt gulping, can't help but let his mind run to thinking about you masturbating to the thought of him. Using your fingers feverishly to try to stimulate the longing you had for him to be between your thighs instead. Crying out his name over and over wishing it was him filling your hole instead of your fingers. Matt is brought back into consciousness when you speak.

“So what about you, when did you last beat your meat?”

Matt chuckles again, at your interesting way of saying masturbate before thinking back to the activity he had just finished doing in the shower before you arrived.

“Uh, earlier today.”

“Okay… but when is ‘earlier’.”

Matt exhales, hoping his answer will make you wet at the thought of. “Before you got here, in the shower.” Matt leans in closer to you, his lips ghosting your ear, his smile turning into a sinful grin. “Actually, right before you got here, sweetheart.” he says darkly.

Your body acts on its own. Goosebumps run throughout your body, your heat pooling once again between your thighs as a quiet but clear moan escapes your lips. Not holding back at all Matt carries on.

“Does that turn you on,sweetheart?” Matt purrs, putting your takeout containers on his coffee table. You bite your lip trying to suppress another whimper leaving your mouth. “Does it make you wet just thinking about how I fucked into my hand moments before you arrived…thinking about you?” he growls. You look at him.

“Matt..” you ask breathlessly. For once your over-thinking brain can’t pull you from the present, too hypnotised by the low seductive words leaving Matt smirking mouth, each word making your panties more and more drenched.

“What sweetheart? Wanna know what I was thinking about when I came?” 

You whimper, nodding. Matt puts his hand on the top of your thigh lightly, slowly rubbing it back and forth. He takes a deep breath of your addicting arousal. He swallows hard, eyes shutting for a second. His cock throbs, straining against his boxers. 

“I was thinking about your pretty little mouth, tightly wrapped around my dick in the office. So hungry to take every inch you could, so enthusiastically licking up every drop of mine.” 

Matt, noticing how flustered you were getting, puts his hand on your inner thighs and rubs it closer to your warming middle. 

“I think of you often while I fuck into my hand. Think about fucking you so hard that you’re pathetically falling apart on my cock, failing to say any words other than my name.”

You're so horny, you're struggling to keep from touching yourself right now or even better using Matt’s hand to fuck you instead. You look down and see how tightly wound up Matt is too, which causes your pussy to painfully throb, needing him to fill you up badly. 

Panting, you lean in closer to Matt, letting your lips brush against one another before making contact. The kiss at first soft and sweet quickly deepens into something hungrier, lustful. Matt wraps his hands around your jaw, tightly securing your face to his. His tongue suddenly shoots out of his mouth and makes its way in yours. You can’t help but moan loudly in his mouth, his hands start roaming your body. He goes to put his hand on your panties but you suddenly pull away.

“Ooh did I go too fast? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable? Matt rushes to say, looking concerned.

“Oh no, no… it’s not you at all, it's just…i’ve never really done this before.” you sigh and quietly whisper “I…I..I’m a virgin.”

Matt smiles a little trying to ignore the twitch that your words made his cock feel.

“That's all sweetheart?” 

“Your not repulsed by that, the fact that I don’t know what I'm doing, that I don’t know how to please a man-”

“Not at all…if im being honest sweetheart.” he leans in and whispers, making you shiver. “It makes me want you more.”

You bite your lip surprised by his reaction, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth. He looks at you, eyes full of lust.

“Do you want me to continue?” he says, gesturing down to your thighs.

You nod and he pauses waiting for a verbal response.

“Yes. Yes Matt, I want you to touch me.”

******

[sjsmith56]

Snowfall, Part 2 - Recognized

Summary: Bucky escorts Leia to a “meet the author” function hosted by her publisher. An encounter with an overly-friendly fan leads to the revelation that Leia is facing some challenges.

Length: 4.6 K

Characters: Bucky, Leia, Pepper Stark, Happy Hogan, OMC.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains sexual content (not explicit) which may be unsuitable for those under the age of 18, stalker behaviour, Leia concerned for Bucky’s well being.

<<Part 1

Friday couldn't come soon enough for Bucky.  He talked to Sam on Thursday about meeting Leia and being completely bowled over by her.  At first, his friend teased him but when Bucky didn't respond to the bait, Sam's tone changed.

"You're really serious about her?" he asked, curious at how Bucky's voice changed when he spoke about her.  "That's fast."

"I am," admitted the super soldier.  "It's like I've known her for a long time but there's so many layers to her that I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know her better.  The best part is that I have no doubts about us; she makes me feel good in every way."

"Damn, that's something."  Sam's voice was warm and supportive.  "I should make a trip to New York soon to meet her.  If she's all that, then it's a good thing for you."

"It is a good thing for me, and I'll spend all my time with her being the best man I can be."

On Friday evening, Bucky walked to Leia's through the light snowfall.  He carried his dress shoes in a gym bag, not wanting to get them wet.  He also carried a change of clothes, after confirming with her that this time he was staying.  He wore his only suit, a black one, with a white shirt and black tie, sending her a selfie before he left, to make sure it was okay for the occasion.  She sent back a short video of her blowing him a kiss, that made him feel giddy with anticipation.  The look on her face when she opened her apartment door was proof that she was impressed.

"Wow, you look great," she smiled.  "You could have been a model."

His cheeks warmed up in embarrassment at her compliment as he took his walking shoes off, then he took a good look at her, wearing a red knit dress that hugged her body, with sleek black boots, her hair pulled back into a low bun and gold hoops in her ears.

"You look stunning.  Red is your colour."

"Thank you."  She noticed his bag.  "You can put your bag in the bedroom, if you want, and change into your dress shoes."

Following her to the bedroom, Bucky placed his bag on a chair and took his dress shoes out.  She waited as he put them on, trying not to seem like she was hovering.  Standing up when the lacing was done, he approached where she leaned against her dresser, idly taking one of her hands in his.

"I should be nervous," he said quietly, kissing her hand.  "I'm not very good at social situations but with you I feel calm."

She glanced down for a moment, then swallowed.  "For what it's worth, I feel the same about you."  The buzzer from the lobby sounded and she looked at him apologetically.  "That will be the driver.  We should get down there."

He helped her on with the red coat, then waited as she locked up.  When they entered the lobby the driver nodded at her, then noticed Bucky, his eyes widening slightly in recognition.  The ride into Manhattan took a little longer due to the snow on the streets but they didn't mind, as they held hands in the back seat.  Several times during the drive, the driver glanced back at Bucky in the rear-view mirror, confirming that he recognized the super soldier.  At the location where the event was being held, he gave Leia a card with his phone number, explaining he would need about 10 minutes lead time to pick her up.

"Make sure you're not alone while you're waiting," he said, then gestured to Bucky.  "I'm sure this guy will keep you safe."

Before either of them could comment he left them at the entrance.  After checking Leia's coat in, they were directed to the event, a transformed workspace in a former industrial building.  Holding Bucky's hand, she looked for her agent, finding her inside the large area which was decorated with a winter theme. 

"Adriana, you're here," said the older woman, air kissing Leia on both cheeks.  "Who is your handsome date?"

"Roberta, this is Bucky Barnes." 

Her agent hesitated for a moment, then offered her hand.  Bucky's presence obviously surprised her, but she quickly introduced him to her husband, then sought out the host of the event, introducing the pair.  He was gracious to both, then advised Leia that she would be introduced along with several other authors mid way through the evening, followed by her participation in a book signing.  In the meantime, she should mingle.

"Let's get a drink," she suggested to Bucky. 

As they made their way to the bar, she noticed the way people looked at Bucky with trepidation and whispered to each other.  By the time she placed her request for some white wine, she was troubled by the reaction to him.  With their glasses in hand, they retreated to a spot where they felt comfortable.  Soon, Leia felt Bucky's fingers touching her own.

"I'm alright," he said, feeling a little bothered at the scrutiny that was being directed at her because of his presence.  "I'm not bothered by the whispers.  I've heard it enough times."

"Well, it bothers me," she declared.  "They don't even know you."

"True, but my past makes it difficult for them to approach me.  Most people don't see past what I was."

Another guest arrived, being well known enough to cause some excitement and divert attention away from Bucky and Leia.  After she was introduced to a few people, the new arrival looked around, making eye contact with Bucky, and smiling.  Immediately, she came over, raising her hand in greeting.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said Pepper Stark, smiling kindly at him.

"I'm here with Leia," he replied, then looked at his date with a slight frown.  "Am I to introduce you by your pseudonym or your real name?"

"If it's a friend you trust, my real name, otherwise my pen name, or both," smiled Leia.

"Pepper Stark, meet Leia Dunn, otherwise known as Adriana Weller," said Bucky.

"Yes, the author of Reflections on a Small Town," exclaimed Pepper.  "I enjoyed that very much.  I'm glad your agent submitted the manuscript to us.  We're already getting some interest for the movie rights." 

"You own the publishing company?" asked Leia.

"Stark Industries is the parent company, but I am involved in editorial decisions so basically, yes."  She noticed someone she knew and nodded towards him as he also saw her.  "You'll have to excuse me while I pay my respects to this man.  I have to play nice with him."  She stepped a few feet away then looked back.  "We'll talk more.  I'm glad to see you here, Bucky."

"How do you know her?" asked Leia, looking up at her date.

"Well, she was part of the force fighting Thanos during the Battle of Earth," said Bucky.  "She also helped provide evidence of my treatment under HYDRA, sending the decrypted files that proved it was torture to my lawyer.  She's been supportive ever since."

"That was nice of her."  Leia squeezed his hand.  "I'm glad she came to say hi."

After Pepper's acknowledgment of Bucky, they noticed more people smiling at them, and several others stopped to make small talk.  It was obvious that if the CEO of Stark Industries was okay with his presence, they could be as well.  Shortly after the host appeared on the dais and welcomed everyone to the formal part of the event.  He introduced the six authors in attendance, sharing a brief summary of their writing careers after inviting them up to the stage.  Then he called Pepper up to say a few words.

Bucky watched from the back of the room, his glass in hand, when his attention was taken by another man at the back of the room, watching the proceedings.  There was something off about him, in a non-specific way; there wasn't one particular thing that bothered him about the man.  He attributed the feeling to his years as the Asset, noticing the small details as part of a bigger picture.  While the man took pictures with his cell phone of the authors as they talked about their current books, Bucky watched him closely, as it seemed that the man took more photos of Leia than anyone else.  Then Bucky's attention was drawn back to the podium where the host announced that the authors would be signing copies of their books for the attendees, at tables set up around the venue.  Closing his remarks, the host thanked everyone for attending on such a wintry night, exhorting them to get home safely. 

Leia looked for him from the stage, giving him a little shrug that he interpreted as her regret for keeping him there a bit longer.  He shrugged back, with what he hoped was a supportive smile as she followed one of the publisher's assistants to a table at the edge of the large space.  Joined by Pepper, they both watched as Leia began signing her books, engaging with the people that lined up at her table.

"She's lovely," said Pepper.  "You must have just met because she only moved here about 10 days ago."

"Wednesday," he replied.  "She lives several blocks from me, and we both ended up in the same coffee shop at the same time.  We just clicked.  This is our second date."

"What are you up to these days?"

"I finally got my settlement for back pay and the PoW treatment," he replied.  "Trying to decide whether to put some of it towards buying a house or investing it.  I might go to school and take some courses.  Have to do something now that it looks like the Avengers aren't starting up anytime soon."

He didn't tell her about the numerous offers to become a hit man, offers that made him wonder if the world would ever see him as someone other than the Winter Soldier.  It wasn't a career he was interested in returning to.

"Yeah."  She shook her head, that single word said in a way that was not just sad but disappointed.  "I had to sell the tower.  It was always Tony's project and the constant upkeep just on the security systems alone without him in charge was more than what I was capable of.  Don't even talk to me about the taxes."

"I'm sorry.  That must have been difficult."

"It was."  She looked up at him.  "Maybe once the election is over you and Sam can head up a revamped version of the Avengers with the new administration.  You showed them that they're still needed."

He shrugged, knowing Sam had been lobbying extensively for that, but had basically been ignored in official circles.  Then he frowned.  The man who had been taking pictures was in Leia's lineup, seeming a little too intense for his liking.  Pepper looked at where Bucky's attention was focused.

"Problem?"

"He was back here taking pictures of all the authors, but mostly Leia."  He shook his head.  "The way he was focused on her set off some warning bells in my head."

Pepper took her phone out, took a picture of the man, and sent it in a text message to someone.  Within moments she got an answer. 

"He's not an invited guest," she said.  "Bucky, go stand behind Leia, while I get security over to deal with him.  I'll explain later."

With a nod, he headed over to the table, standing behind Leia.  She looked back and smiled at him, receiving one in return.  As she spoke to each person, and made out the dedication to them, even posing for selfies with some of them, he tried to keep his face neutral, so that the man, who was now next in line, didn't get spooked.  Bucky was aware of several security people approaching from the perimeter of the room, but they still had to wade their way through the people that were standing around.

"Hi, who should I make this out to?" asked Leia of the man, unaware of the drama that was unfolding.

"Edward," he said, leaning in close.  "Would you please sign it with your real name?"

She frowned.  "Excuse me?"

"Please sign it as Leia Dunn, if you wouldn't mind."

Bucky placed his hand on the book, closing it, then giving his most intense look at the man.  "The author's name is Adriana Weller."

"Oh, I know," smiled the man, his eyes seeming too bright and too assured.  "But it's not her real name.  Leia, don't you remember me?"

Her face dropped and she stood up, placing Bucky between her and Edward.  The man sighed and reached into his jacket inside pocket, triggering Bucky into grasping his hand.

"I'm just getting my phone out," said Edward peevishly.  "I only want to prove that Leia and I are old friends.  Surely, she can sign a book in her own name for a friend."

Happy Hogan was the first security agent to get to the table and he looked to Bucky, who shook his head minutely.  Let this play out.  The two men watched Edward closely as he unlocked his phone revealing a wallpaper screen of him posing with Leia.  He opened his photo gallery to show the photo in its entirety.  With his left hand, Bucky took it and showed it to her.

"That's in my hometown," she said, in a low voice.  "I self published the book originally and would sell it at farmer's markets and such.  He must have bought a copy there.  I don't remember him."

Bucky handed it back.  So far, the man hadn't done anything illegal, other than crash a private party.  As he contemplated what to say to the man, the host arrived with Pepper and two other security guards.

"Sir, this is a private party, and you were not invited.  I insist that you leave."

"I just want her to sign it in her real name," frowned Edward.  "What's wrong with signing a book for a fan from home?"

"Because I have a private life." Leia was beside Bucky now, the fear mixed with anger clear in her voice.  "Do you know what kind of letters I've received from so-called fans?  How do I know you're not a stalker?"

Edward looked shocked.  "No!  I wouldn't do that.  I love your writing.  You shouldn't have to hide behind a false name.  Are they forcing you to do this?  Is this because of your father?"

Leia stumbled backwards as if she had been hit.  What did this man know?

"Alright, I've heard enough," said Bucky.  He removed the glove from his left hand, placing it in Edward's view.  "You've been asked nicely to leave, now I'm telling you.  Ms. Weller writes under that name for a good reason.  You crashed this event and it's within the publisher's rights to throw you out and charge you with trespassing.  Leave now or I'll make you leave."

The other man kept his dignity, although he was unhappy at being singled out.  With a slight grimace, he put his phone back into his jacket and left with the two security guards, looking back at her only once.  Bucky touched Leia's cheek, gazing intently at her.

"Are you alright?  Do you want to call it a night?"

"I'm fine, just a little shaken," she replied, then looked at the lineup of people still waiting.  "I'll sign for them then we can go, okay?"

While Pepper and the others left, he pushed her chair in when she sat back down in it, then stayed behind her until she finished signing for the last person.  It was obvious there was something else going on, something she hadn't revealed to him, but he wasn't about to call her out on it.  Her fear of Edward was real, and he didn't want to add to that.

"Call the driver," suggested Bucky, as Leia stood up.  "We'll say our goodbyes, get your coat and go home, okay?"

She nodded, taking out the card that was given to her.  While she was making the call, Pepper and Happy came back over, standing just out of earshot from Leia.

"I'm taking her home," said Bucky.  "She's shaken up a little."

"It's probably for the better," said Pepper, then she glanced at Happy.  "She obviously hasn't told you everything, but we did have someone watching her, making sure no one bothered her.  He recognized you and checked with me about whether to intervene.  I vouched for you, Bucky; both of us did."

"Seriously?  You had me under surveillance, as well.  Did she know about any of it?" 

Happy shook his head.  "We didn't want to interfere in her private life but some of the letters were disturbing and we wanted her to be safe.  Look, you're a good operative, probably the best.  We want you to be her personal bodyguard."

A short bitter laugh was Bucky's reply.  "I'm in a relationship with her; at least the beginning of one.  You expect me just to turn it off and make her my job?"  Aware that Leia finished her phone call, he turned away from Happy and Pepper.  "Is he on his way?"

"Yeah."  She looked at Pepper.  "I have to go.  It was nice to meet you."

"The pleasure was mine," smiled the older woman.  "We'll talk soon."  She looked at Bucky.  "Think about it."

No response came from him as he placed his hand on Leia's lower back and guided her to the coat check.  Helping her on with the red coat, he made sure she was all buttoned up before they went to the doors and waited the few minutes for their driver.  When the car pulled up the driver got out and opened the back door for them.  Bucky let Leia in first, then walked around to the back of the vehicle and gestured to the man, speaking to him in a low voice.

"Are you the man who's been watching over her?" 

He didn't answer at first then nodded.  "One of them.  I recognized you at the coffee shop and thought you had been hired but realized quickly that it was something else.  When I checked, Mr. Hogan vouched for you as trustworthy."  Bucky's demeanour alerted him.  "Did something happen?"

Bucky nodded.  "A fan who knew where she was from, demanded she sign his book with her real name.  It upset her.  They want me to be her personal bodyguard, but we're involved."

"It happens," he shrugged.  "Quite frankly, I think having you on the team would be a benefit.  Your skills are miles above the three of us on this assignment and we're all former agency people."  He stuck his hand out.  "I'm Greg Burnham.  Think about it, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky shook his hand, then got into the back seat while Burnham took the wheel.  Smiling warmly at Leia, Bucky took his right glove off and put his hand over hers, squeezing it.

"We'll talk when we get back to your place, okay?"

She nodded her head slightly and interlaced her fingers in his, seeking comfort from him.  Burnham said nothing on the drive, but his frequent glances at Bucky during the drive made him consider the assignment.   When Burnham opened Bucky's door, he palmed one of his cards into his gloved hand, then went to open Leia's door.  Despite not being part of her official detail, Bucky couldn't help but scan the surroundings, using his superior vision and auditory senses to make note of anyone in the area.  With a nod to Burnham, he took Leia's hand and went into the high rise while the other man maintained a presence on the street.  Once past the security doors, they waited quietly for the elevator, then got on, alone in the car.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking up at the floor indicator.

"For what?" he asked, turning to her.

"For not saying anything about the letters.  Everything else is the truth about writing and coming here.  It just sped up the timeline of when I came to New York.  Some of the letters were mailed from where I used to live, making the authorities concerned that he was a local.  Moving here was supposed to help keep him from following me."  Her lips began to tremble.  "Shit, I hate feeling this way." 

Pulling her into his arms, Bucky held her, kissing her head and just keeping her close.  When the doors opened on her floor, he stepped out first, taking in the scene, then offered her his hand.  Once inside the apartment, he helped her off with her coat, hanging it up in the closet.  Then he took her by the hand to the couch, sitting down with her.  The emotions she held in for much of the evening erupted at that point and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her while she cried.  Eventually, her sobs lessened, and she stayed curled up in Bucky's arms, feeling wrung out.  He tilted her head up towards him, kissing her on the forehead, then used his thumb to clean the tears from her face. 

"Better?" he asked.  She nodded.  "You were quite afraid of the man at the book signing, weren't you?  Especially when he mentioned your father."

"Yeah," she stammered a little.  "The first letters I got were addressed to my former address in my real name.  It was after I self-published and sent it to the publisher but before they accepted it.  The letters were disturbing but not really scary or violent.  When the publisher accepted it and announced the acquisition, the letters began to get darker in tone as he detailed his plans for me.  The bit about my father isn't well known.  Let's just say he wasn't a good man."  She seemed reluctant to expand on that.  "When I finally told the authorities about the letters, they thought it best that I move here sooner rather than later, and the publisher agreed.  We decided I should have a pen name and changed the title.  They think I don't know about the surveillance team, but I figured they wouldn't let me go out on my own without someone watching over me.  I tried to roll with it, not let it rule my life, but I guess what happened tonight was a reminder that I'm still vulnerable.  I'm glad you were there.  With you, I feel safe."

"They asked me to be your personal bodyguard, with you at all times," he said, wanting to be honest with her.  "It wasn't what I was expecting when we left here tonight."  An audible breath escaped from his lips as he gave her the next bit.  "It's not recommended for us to be involved if I agree."

Her disappointment was evident by how she slumped into him.  She sniffed, then nodded her head.

"I understand," she conceded.  "If being involved interferes with keeping me safe, then it's better that we're not attached to each other."

She already trusted his word about what was best for the situation.  He wanted to kiss her so much just for that.  But it wasn't that easy.  Even though he knew he should handle this by the book, what he said next surprised even himself.

"I don't necessarily agree with that.  It's not recommended but relationships do happen between a bodyguard and the person they protect.  We're already involved.  Even though it's still brand new for both of us, it's not something I want to give up.  If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you'll do what I say without hesitation.  No matter what, even if it puts me in danger, you must do as I ask.  Do you understand?"  She nodded.  "Promise?"

"I promise to do whatever you tell me, even if it puts you in danger."

"Okay.  I'll agree to be your personal bodyguard, which means I'm moving in," said Bucky.  "I can sleep on the couch if you're not comfortable ...."

Her mouth was on his, kissing him fiercely.  He responded just as strongly, trapping her body with his arms as if he were absorbing her body into his own.  When the kiss ended, they were both breathing heavily, their eyes intent on each other's lips.  Raising her hand to his cheek, Leia brushed her lips against his, then took in a short, sharp breath as he easily rose with her in his arms.  Undoing his tie and shirt along the way, she pressed her hand onto his chest, then placed open mouthed kisses along his neck and collar bone.  By the time they got to the bedroom, every thought of taking their time and gently exploring each other was lost to the powerful urge to possess each other physically.  Discarded clothing littered the floor, then Bucky went to his bag, searching for one of the condoms he had packed; the only interruption to their primal urges.  When he finally thrust into Leia, they both released a groan of pleasure, before resuming the pursuit of their desires. 

Since the Flag Smashers were dealt with, Bucky had several intimate encounters with different women.  None were viewed as anything more than a casual encounter.  They were like the proverbial ships in the night, meeting briefly, joining their bodies for a physical release, then a brief goodbye, never to see each other again.  It suited him as he fell back into his old ways of self-isolation, unwilling to open himself up emotionally.  But meeting Leia had sparked something in him, something deep and intense.  Ever since that moment when he saw her to her door after their first date, he didn't want to be anywhere else but with her.  That feeling intensified exponentially as their physical union approached the moment of ecstasy, something they both craved.

"Look at me," he commanded, wanting to see the moment she came reflected in her eyes.  "Baby, look at me when you come."

"Bucky.  Oh, God!" 

Even in the dark, her enlarged pupils seemed luminous to him, deep pools filled with the essence of everything he wanted.  Her bliss encompassed her entire body, bringing him to the edge of ecstasy, then pushing him into an abyss of total rapture as he surrendered to his release.  It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before with anyone.  Mindful enough to deal with the condom quickly, he returned from the bathroom with a glass of water, offering it to Leia and supporting her as she drank greedily to slake the thirst she felt after their exertions.  Back under the sheets with her, their bodies entwined in a tight embrace, he could feel the slow recovery of her pounding heart through her chest as it pressed against his side.  Her hand kneaded into his chest and abdomen, like a cat staking its claim on its property.  As brief as their acquaintance was, he knew without a doubt that he was hers, as much as she was his. 

It still wasn't the best idea for them to be romantically involved while he was responsible for her safety, but he was where he belonged, and where he wanted to be.  That was the moment he truly accepted what was asked of him, to protect Leia Dunn with everything he was capable of, while giving her all of himself emotionally.

Part 3>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[cheritzteam]

[The Ssum] A Spring Day When Love Blooms💐 Adding a Sweet Day💝 May Event Information

Hello, dear lab participant.

Spring, the best season for falling in love, has arrived. How about enjoying a leisurely walk with The Ssum today? You will be able to see flowers blooming in spring!

The Forbidden Lab is bringing you news of an event commemorating the blossoming spring of 2024.

< ① City of Free Men : Celebratory Lab >

For the following period, a Celebratory Lab📚 celebrating Blossoming Spring 2024 will open in the City of Free Men.

Share an exciting story from your life with other lab participants and

become the best lab participant or the lucky lab participant (3 each in each language) and win 200 Aurora batteries! *If you have won an in-game event within the past 3 months, you will be excluded from the raffle for this event.

Q&A Q. How can I go to the Infinite Universe? A. If you go to the Main Menu and check all the menu icons, the “Forbidden Lab” will open on the left. Tap the Spiral Galaxy Button at the bottom left to enter the Infinite Universe!

♥Bonus Event♥

Use both dedicated hashtags #TheSsum #TheSsum_MayBlossomingSpring on X(Twitter), Tumblr, Instagram, or TikTok and share a screenshot of your study post on social media!

10 lucky winners will receive 50 Aurora Batteries🎁

Event Period: May 7th, 2024 (Tue) 9 AM ~ May 22nd, 2024 (Wed) 9 AM KST* Winner Announcement: May 30th, 2024 (Thu) KST *Posts will not disappear after the open period, but you will not be able to write new posts.

※Disclaimer※ * Bonus event prizes will be sent to the Lab Code displayed on your screenshot. * For Instagram users - you should DM us a link to your post via our official account(@thessum_official) to ensure that your post is noticed.* Posts should be set to public until the winner announcement, and plagiarism is prohibited.

< ② Special illustration >

Aren’t you curious about where your Ssumone went to hangout?

Participate in the Blossoming Spring Celebratory Study that opens on May 7, 2024 and receive cute illustrations!

Conversations with your Ssumone will feel more lovey-dovey.

♥Bonus Event♥

Quote the special illustration from X (Twitter) and

please share on social media what you would like to say to your Ssumone!

Through a raffle we will pick 10 lab participants and gift them 50 Aurora Batteries🎁

How to Participate 1. Search Cheritz's official account (@Cheritz_DL) on X (Twitter) on Thursday, May 9, 2024. 2. Please quote your Ssumone's special illustration that was uploaded to the official Cheritz account and post what you wanted to say to your Ssumone, including your lab code. *Please be sure to include your lab code in your post.♥

Event Period: May 9, 2024 (Thu) ~ May 22nd, 2024 (Wed) KST* Winner Announcement: May 30th, 2024 (Thu) KST

※Disclaimer※ * Posts should be set to public until the winner announcement, and plagiarism is prohibited. * Bonus event prizes will be sent to the Lab Code displayed on your screenshot.

Also, don't forget to collect game-access rewards available throughout the event period for Blossoming Spring🎁.

Game-Access Rewards available through: May 7th, 2024 (Tue) 9 AM ~ May 22nd, 2024 (Wed) 9 AM KST In-Game Access Reward: 10 Aurora Batteries + 3 Frequency Tolup

​

Have a sweet day with The Ssum💕

Thank you.

Cheritz