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macfrog · 1 year

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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.”

----------

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lexirosewrites · 1 year

Text

hi, I’m LexiRoseWrites

(pfp made by @/itcanbepalped)

☆ you can call me Lexi or Lex

☆ 28, nonbinary, bisexual, autistic, and a nurse

☆ they/he/she, but they/he preferred— gendered terms of any sort are fine with me!

☆ twitter/X: @LexiRoseWrites1

☆ my inbox is open and you’re welcome to ask me anything or send me a request! (I will delete hate/bullying sent, so don’t bother)

☆ please ask before writing about one of my posts! I am not a prompt generator, so make sure you ask first!!

☆ this is an 18+ blog because while I write lots of steddie and specifically omegaverse content, occasionally you’ll find NSFW things or a dead dove here (always heavily tagged) because I’m apparently the big scary proshipper you’ve been warned about

☆ blog navigation: #my fics, #my asks, #wip Wednesday, #throwback Thursday fics, #spreadsheet Saturday, #slick Sunday

↓ masterlist of ficlets and fics below the cut ↓

TUMBLR FICLETS

Steddie:

☆ Amnesia ☆ Card Games ☆ Dinner Reservations ☆ Handcuffs ☆ Lingerie ☆ Not Dating ☆ Serial Killer Soulmates: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Steve Accidentally Summons a Demon: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Steve Isn’t Coping ☆ Transfem Stevie ☆

Omegaverse Steddie:

☆ 24-Hour Diner: part 1 | part 2 ☆ Alpha-for-Hire Eddie ☆ Autistic Omega Steve ☆ Baby Mine ☆ Birthday Massage ☆ Bitchy Omega Steve / Lovesick Alpha Eddie: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ☆ Camboy Steve ☆ Everyone is a Beta ☆ Expectations ☆ Fake Dating Fertility Clinic ☆ Fate Binds Us ☆ Hairdresser Steve/Rockstar Eddie ☆ Health Class ☆ Hellfire Cult ☆ I didn’t know we were dating: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ☆ Infertility ☆ Kas Eddie ☆ Losing Control ☆ Nestless Omega Steve ☆ Older Steve/Younger Eddie ☆ Oral Coach Steve ☆ Pathetic Omega Steve ☆ Platonic Stobin ☆ Scent Blockers ☆ Speak Now ☆ Steve Gets A Puppy ☆ Such A Good Boy ☆ The Bachelor ☆ The Best Present ☆ The Reunion ☆ Time Loop ☆ Unknowingly Claimed ☆ Wealthy Steve/Busker Eddie ☆

General Omegaverse:

☆ Alpha/Omega Voices ☆ Basic Guide to Omegaverse Terms ☆ Bite Lore ☆ Rejection Sickness ☆ Scruffing ☆

AO3 FICS

All of my fics are steddie unless otherwise stated, mostly explicit and omegaverse, but check actual tags before reading anything please!

☆ Current WIPs ☆

A Million Dreams: A/B/O, circus AU, 2/4 chapters, 10k

Keep Digging (until you find my heart buried next to yours in the ground): A/B/O, archeology au, soulmates, reincarnation, 2/3 chapters, 17k

Scatter The Ashes: A/B/O, mafia AU, sequel to Watch It All Burn, 4/16 chapters, 18k

Waking Up In Vegas: A/B/O, accidental mating, rockstar Eddie, 5/15 chapters, 33k

☆ Unfinished (Series) ☆

Going For The Gold: A/B/O, ice skater Steve/hockey player Eddie, 18k

Jailbirds Can’t Fly: A/B/O, dead dove, prison AU, bitching, 12k

Keep It On Campus: A/B/O, college AU, 22k

Lucky Number 666: A/B/O, mafia AU, single parent Steve, 3k

My Heart’s Been Borrowed and Yours Has Been Blue: A/B/O, divorced kindergarten teacher Steve/tattoo artist Eddie, 25k

The Bunny and The Wolf: A/B/O, mafia AU, 154k

☆ Complete ☆

A Prince and His Pauper: A/B/O, medieval/royalty AU, stuttering Steve, 100k

All I Want For Christmas Is You: A/B/O, Christmas fic, 6k

And The Sun Will Rise: A/B/O, zombie apocalypse AU, 41k

Baby Mine: A/B/O, omega Eddie/alpha Steve, unplanned pregnancy, hurt/comfort, 2k

Bandaids (And Other Home Remedies): A/B/O, pediatric nurse Steve/single dad Eddie, 87k

Bleeding Heart: A/B/O, vampire Eddie/human Steve, 21k

Business Before Pleasure: A/B/O, Buckingham, Office AU, 16k

Exigency Contact: A/B/O, threesome, Steddie/Stargyle/Steddigyle, rockstar Eddie, 10k

Five Years: amnesia, 1k

Fragile (Handle With Care): A/B/O, soulmates, rockstar Eddie, 117k

He’s So Mean: A/B/O, high school AU, 3k

Let Me Be Your (Teddy Bear): A/B/O, bitching, 11k

Mad World: trans male Eddie, childhood friends, 3k

More of You to Love: A/B/O, chubby Steve, 4k

Never Be Alone Again: A/B/O, dead dove, stalker Eddie, 3k

Oblivious: t4t, mutual pining, 3k

On A Different Page: A/B/O, didn’t know they were dating, 7k

Online, Offline (Out of My Mind): A/B/O, soulmates, online dating, actor Steve/mechanic Eddie, 41k

Screaming Your Name In The Dark: A/B/O, dead dove, Kas Eddie, alternating past/present timelines, 27k

Silver: A/B/O, silverfox omega Steve/younger alpha Eddie, 6k

Tell Me About It, Stud: A/B/O, studding, 7k

The Rings Stay On: cis female Steve, 4k

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The Stutter and The Freak: stuttering Steve, 14k

Touch Me: A/B/O, omega/omega, therapist Eddie/touch-repulsed Steve, 12k

Unholy Matrimony: demon Eddie/human Steve, 5k

Unsafe Bet: A/B/O, high school AU, dating as a prank, 65k

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buckyarchives · 2 years

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Metal Arms and Short Skirts | Bucky Barnes. [1]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. while Bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, and you're more than happy to help him.

word count: 5.6k author note: this started as a small, very self indulgent short story that i had no plans of finishing nor posting but here i am. this is also a sort of mini story while write a much longer/ complex story. i hope to have this finished by the end of jan. my inbox is open for prompts to write as small drabbles! enjoy!

outfit reference (because it kinda important, but you can change it if you'd like; this is just for visuals) outfit one and outfit two

story playlist here

READ ON AO3 | masterlist

A soft knock at the door echoed and Bucky’s eyes sprung open, making himself aware of his surroundings as he began rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes with his flesh hand. His gaze pans to the small clock, ‘6:00 am’, it read.

“Buck? You up?” Bucky’s head snapped toward the familiar voice. He called out a quick, muffled response while slipping on some pants. Bucky knotted his eyebrows as he crept towards the door, drowsiness still lingering. A small scowl decorated Bucky’s face, the knock catching him off-guard. Today was a scheduled free for Bucky.

Bucky opened the door to be met with Steve's face, “what is it?” Bucky asked.

“I told you last night, we gotta get to the lab and fix your arm.” Steve replied, eyes glancing at the bent and crushed panels on his forearm. Sparring was fun until Steve throws his shield a little too fast and Bucky is just a little too late to catch or dodge. “And this is the only time today that Tony is free to fix it, so put a shirt on, and let's go.”

Bucky grumbled under his breath at the orders, he wasn't one to sleep in or mess around with his strict schedule but it had been a rough week. A mission went wrong, and a trip to the med wing. Bucky wanted to be just a little self-indulgent and maybe have a late start by choice. He turned and grabbed a black, sleeveless shirt from his closet. Sleeveless made the process a lot easier and he prayed to any god that Tony wasn't going to be a pain in the ass this morning.

“Ready?” Steve spoke up as Bucky emerged from his room, a quick pat on the shoulder as he nodded in response.

The two boys walked side by side towards the med wing, this was the 3rd visit to the lab this week, and it was only Thursday. Bucky decided then and there that were a couple of too many times for his liking. He hoped this went by fast. On the way they both ran into a certain black widow, Steve nearly tripped over Natasha as she walked out of the training room.

“Hey boys, where you headed too?” she spoke as she began to walk with them down the hall, a bead of sweat dripping from her forehead.

“Last night's match got a little too fast and I accidentally jammed the shield in Buck's arm, headed to Tony to get it fixed real quick,” Steve spoke, Natasha eyed the smashed vibranium.

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Tony’s in DC right now?”

“Huh?”

“Flew out last night, had some emergency meeting. Said it was no big deal.”

Bucky scoffed under his breath. “Well I'm sure someone is there to fill in or Tony would have sent me a message,” Steve said, hopeful as always.

Bucky wasn't sure if he was happier or more annoyed at the fact Tony wouldn't be working on his arm. Pro; it's not tony. Con; it's a stranger– unless Bruce pulls a medical engineering Ph.D. out of his ass, which in full honestly would not surprise anyone too much.

An elevator ride and too many hallways later, the trio walked toward the lab, no one looked to be inside from the outside, and Bucky peered through the windows. He thought how bad it would be to turn around and go back to bed now, but Steve made everyone walk in– ‘just to check.

It was quiet for a moment, besides the subtle sound of whirring machines. Soon the large lab door slides open, “I'm so sorry I'm late! I'm filling in for Tony, he had a meeting.”

you walked through the door with a large iPad and a couple of books in hand, you set them down on a bench with a loud thud. Natasha said your name surprised, calling your attention to her.

“I didn’t know you were working at the compound, did Tony just transfer you?” she spoke, Bucky and Steve didn’t recognize you but Natasha seemed to be familiar.

You smiled brightly at Natasha, “yes. Tony wants me here permanently instead of California to give Helen a break from traveling here from Korea every time someone gets a bullet wound; which seemed to happen too often. ” you spoke confidently, “I think Tony just wants me closer to him.”

Natasha chuckled softly and rolled her eyes, “oh, I'm sure. I think you are the only one besides Pepper that can make him slow down.”

“Tony? Slow down?” Steve perked up, joking along.

“Yeah because I'm the only one he trusts with his oh-so-precious work,” you spoke sarcastically before turning towards Steve and Bucky, holding your hand out to greet the two super-soldiers. Introducing yourself, Steve spoke your name back to you, and you smiled.

“It's nice to meet you, and don't worry about being late– we just got here.” Steve shook your hand firmly before you turned to Bucky.

You brought your hand up to shake his hand while your eyes widened and filled with curiosity once you saw his left arm, you attempted to hide it, but Bucky noticed it quickly. He shook your hand. “It's nice to finally meet you and work on– I mean with you Mr. Barnes” you stumbled over your words.

“Call me Bucky, please.” Bucky replied, his hand falling back to his side.

Bucky wore a confused look after he noticed your attire, questioning if you truly were the engineer slash doctor to work on his arm in Tony Starks place. Your hair was done up, you had a tiny, baby-blue shirt on, made out of bunched-up tulle fabric, it was off the shoulder with the sheer tulle fabric puffing up on your sleeves.

Your skirt was matching and incredibly short and tight, despite the shortness, a small slit was on up your thigh. Bucky’s eyes fell all the way down to the floor, white boots that wrapped tightly around your calves and stopped around your knee. Not missing the huge, chunky heel that definitely gave you a few inches.

Muffled small talk between you and Natasha started as Bucky took a seat next to Steve, you moved confidently around the lab as if you owned it, pulling the specific tools and materials to start working. Bucky watch you curiously and thought despite your utter confidence and bliss, you looked out of place in the lab.

Your outfit felt so out of place; colorful, fun, and playful against the lab scenery. Bucky imagined seeing you on the new york city streets, walking around with a young and trendy outfit, a model-like strut like you owned the city. The usual sight of scientists here had a boring, toned-down outfit, usually under a lab coat. You sported none of that.

“In full transparency Bucky, since you joined the team I've been asking Tony for a while to work with you, I have many ideas for your arm.” He snapped out of his trance once you addressed him, head turned towards Bucky as you ran your hands under the sink. “I hope you're comfortable with that.”

Bucky just shrugged in response, you laughed lightly at his response. “Well then, can you sit over here for me?” you pointed to a lowered workbench in the center of the room, and Bucky plopped down on it next to your books. Natasha took his place next to Steve across from bucky

Natasha spoke up, “Stark get you your own lab yet? I know how you are about your space.”

Your warm laughter filled Bucky’s ears again, he found himself enjoying the sound ringing in his head. “Tony said as long as I get along with everyone and stop blowing things up I could stay– though I think he has no room to speak.” you joked.

“I have no doubts though, he seemed pretty adamant about making me the head of the lab and medical wing here?”

“Impressing everyone as always I see,” Natasha spoke warmly, you scrunched your face up slightly, smiling shyly at the compliment.

You caught Bucky off guard for a moment once you asked for permission to grab his lower forearm, already one point better than Tony as he usually would just grab it harshly and get to work. “I try my best.”

“It seems you’ve been working with Tony for while, how come I've never seen you around?” Steve asked, he leaned forward with his elbows propped against his knees. Curious eyes placed on you, Bucky knew that look.

A concentrated gaze took over your face, and your tongue stuck out a little on the side as you worked slowly to get the crushed plates out of Bucky’s arm. Bucky took note of your almost perfect nails, they were long and glossy with a baby blue color and gems. Matching your outfit.

“Well, Tony definitely put me to work so I haven't had much time to catch up with the avengers. I know Natasha when she was “Tony's assistant.’” you snort, throwing your hands up around the assistant. Natasha smirked.

Steve was impressed– to say the least, humming in response. “Tony has taken a liking to me and always finds jobs for me so I’m constantly traveling and working. I've been pretty busy the past few years so it would make sense to have missed you.”

“Oh, and you have like a million Ph.D.’s” Natasha added.

“Only five.”

Natasha throws her hands up dramatically, blowing raspberries in a mocking manner. “only.”

“A very impressive resume.” Steve teased, Bucky couldn’t help but be impressed as well, especially with being so young. He was also impressed at the delicacy of which you worked, your hands were so steady and Bucky could barely notice you working. More points ahead of Stark.

“All that and I don't think I’ve ever seen you in a bad outfit.” Natasha teased, her eyes traveling up your outfit. “Or hair.”

A shy smile grew on your face, “as long as it doesn’t affect my work, the short skirts stay on.” you winked playfully towards Natasha as she rolled her eyes at the gesture.

“I’m just glad you finally are settling down in one lab, I missed seeing you around.” Natasha smiled fondly at you. “Found a place to stay yet?”

“Yes! I found a nice apartment close by, Tony wanted to give me a room here but I declined,” you said. Natasha put on an overexaggerated frown.

All the crushed panels were gone and the hardware inside was almost put back in place. Natasha and Steve were both in their own bubble, chatting away about some old mission. Bucky sat staring at you and your hands as you worked. His eyes shamefully traveled towards your thighs, your skirt was traveling up and a little bit and more of the skin on your thighs could be seen.

His head snapped away and towards the two avengers when Natasha's phone went off. apparently, Agent Hill needed the two so after a quick goodbye from Steve and a teased, exaggerated wink from Natasha, the two were gone and Bucky was left alone with you. Bucky tried to keep his eyes averted from your thighs or exposed stomach from your cropped top, but the growing redness on his face said otherwise.

“I really do hope to work with you in the future, make some better use of this arm, yeah?” you spoke up, beginning to replace the old panels with new ones, putting them together like puzzle pieces.

“My arm’s perfectly fine.” Bucky mumbled.

You nodded slowly, “yes, it is. But, it can be improved. I can add some new tech, you know? Make it stronger, more flexible, add some cybernetic defenses or maybe some built-in sensory rays, and build something in like Natasha bracelets, that deliver some powerful electric discharge.”

Bucky listens to you ramble on about his cyborg arm, your face lit up as you talked about all the possibilities. Your hands are still steady at work on the vibranium. “Is all that really necessary?”

“I think it is, considering fighting is your job. But, if you don't think so, I won’t anything, it’s just an idea.” your eyes are still laser-focused on his arm, not looking at you. Bucky’s eyes glanced back down to your thigh. “And extra tech would make your arm so much cooler.”

Bucky scoffed, “this thing is not cool.”

Your eyes finally left his arm and you looked up at Bucky through your lashes, “I think it’s pretty cool” you smiled slightly at him before going back at his arm.

Cool? he doesn't think anyone's ever called his arm cool. Bucky's eyes left you and he looked forward, defocusing and staring off into space. “Anything you want to be changed or added?”

A few snarky responses came to mind but they fell short on Bucky’s tongue. Bucky wasn’t going to respond and let the silence answer for him, but his eyes flashed toward the blood-red color on his shoulders.

“Maybe get rid of the star.” Bucky sighed, he said it like it was a sacred confession. Shame laced in his tone. Like no matter how hard he tried to redeem himself, or erase his mind of Hydra– the star painted on his shoulder would never let him rid of it all. Like a branding.

You smiled fondly at him from across the lab, with no disgust or fear. An unusual sight recently with every other agent recoiling from his presence by just living. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you like black? I can do black, oh! Or gold, that'd be cool.”

Bucky could only watch in awe as you contiuned to mumble random colors under your breath, fascinated by the fact you could be anything other than afraid of the machine of an arm. Your wheeled chair scooted closer and Bucky could feel like puffy tule fabric against his leg, his eyes averted sideway, towards your body again. Your skirt was making him nervous, how did you wear outfits like this to work every day?

You had started to notice Bucky’s eyes ghosting over your outfit mid-conversation with Steve, brushing it off then so you wouldn't embarrass the man in front of his peers. But it was starting to bother you now, did your outfit look bad? Was something out of place?

“Something wrong with my outfit, Mr. Barnes?”

“Bucky.” he corrected, his eye darted toward you, a red flush growing on his face now that you noticed his lingering eyes. He was a fool for thinking you wouldn't notice. “Your skirt scares me.”

Your hands stopped working, being taken aback by Bucky’s response. You look up at him confused, a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean this with no disrespect, but it's just very short…” his sentence trails up, leaving it at that in hopes of not offending you or writing himself off as a creep. His face was flushed with red so he wasn’t sure how convincing it was, “not that I was- uh, looking at you like that”

‘Well,” your eyes fell back on the metal panel, screw in hand. “I might call you a gentleman for caring about my decently.” you teased, Bucky let out a small sigh knowing you didn’t take his concerns the wrong way.

“But don't worry, sergeant. I’m wearing safety shorts under,” you smirked, getting up from your seat and swiftly pulling your skirt down. “All done! Do your little arm thing.’

Bucky was caught off guard. Eyebrows furrowed in your direction, “how do you know about that?”

“Like I haven't mentioned enough, I’m very familiar with your work. I've seen videos of you fighting, you do that thing where you like spin in to stretch it out.” you laughed, backing up and attempting a half-assed version of imitating him and spinning your arm in a small circle. Bucky stifled back an amused laugh at the sight, pushing back the thought of thinking you looked quite cute doing it.

Bucky shook his head, cocking it slightly to the right. And did the arm thing. Watching your face as he did it. Weirdly enough, you smiled with amusement at the sight. ‘“Yeah, that thing!”

“You are very interesting, has anyone told you that?”

“Yes and I’m choosing to take it as a compliment. Now I have to clean up here and get some other things done, you're free to go Mr. Barnes.” you put away the tools and discharged the old metal plates to be melted down for other uses later.

“Bucky.” he repeated.

Turning to him with books and iPad in your arms. “Yes, sorry. Bucky.” you smiled at him and walked past him towards the doorway, you practically strutted out of the lab. Calling back at him before leaving.

“It was wonderful meeting you!” and you were gone with no room to respond.

Bucky stood slightly dumbfounded and a little… impressed? In the middle of the lab before seeing the text from steve to meet him in the training room, a groan escaped his mouth hoping he could have one off day.

What made everything worse is that he had to endure a few too many direct hits from Steve and Sam during their sparing session. Bucky'smind had been somewhere else for the past few hours, puzzled since usually a good training sesh would help him tap out of everything. But his mind seemed plagued with you.

The way you spoke about his arm like it was the most amazing thing ever like it hadn’t been the cause of so many deaths. Your complete and utter confidence in your every move and sound. Your outfit, your skirt, and the way it kept riding up your thighs.

Bucky needed a nap.

******

The commons room was close to silent, weirdly silent. it was midday and Bucky sat on a chair, close to a window with his head down into a book. Sam sat close to Steve at the bar, with small and soft chatter. Wanda and Clint were lazily sprawled across the couch, some movie or sitcom playing silently, yet still creating the most noise in the room. The occasional hearty laugh comes from Steve or Sam as they converse competing with the television.

A few chapters later of Bucky’s book the soft sound of a familiar heels clicking entered the quiet common room. His eyes attempted to stay on the pages but curiosity got the best of him and Bucky raised his head slowly to look at you, you were standing close right next to Sam and Steve talking about something. Steve had that big goofy smile on his face and Sam was shaking your hand, Bucky assumed this was the first time Sam has met you.

Your outfit was more mellow than his last interaction with you. A white high-neck tank top hugged your body and another very short black denim skirt that had pleads in it. Over all of that was crocheted black sweater, it hug low and off your shoulder. It looked so thin and the loops so big, bucky pondered on why you were even wearing it. Sam laughed loudly and Bucky wondered what was so funny.

A gasp came from Wanda and her eyes widened in your direction. “Oh my god! Your boots are so adorable!” everyone's head turned to the redhead as she got up from the couch frantically to get a closer look at your knee-high, skin-tight boots. “Are those the steve madden boots? I've heard they're a pain to get on?”

You laughed and Bucky got whiplash, he forgot how nice it sounded. Rolling onto your heels as you looked down at your boots, looking back up at Wanda with a soft smile. “Yeah, they are” Clint's head was now perked up and everyone in the room now had their eyes on you. You didn’t falter under their gazes. “And yes, squeezing my claves into these should count as a physical exercise.”

“I've been trying to find some forever, they've been sold out everywhere,” Wanda said. “They look amazing on you!”

A large smile grew on your face and Bucky swears he saw a sliver of shiny metal shine above your top set of teeth, as it’s said curiosity kills the cat and he was already up from his chair to investigate. Quiet footsteps brought him close beside Steve.

“What’s up, cyborg.” Sam greeted him and Bucky shrugged back a mumbled nothing. Wanda was still gushing about your outfit and Bucky was trying not to look like a total creep staring at your face to see what was in your mouth.

“Party going on here or something? Without me too, I’m offended.” Clint joined the circle around the bar. Your head perked in his direction.

A few loud steps toward Clint as your finger swiped at your iPad. “Mr. Barton, I have some new arrow designs for you! I got pretty impressive ones courtesy of Dr. pym.” as you spoke to Clint, you were much closer to Bucky now, maybe he was staring too hard. He watched your lips move, noticing the metal ring sat above your top row teeth, resembling something of a bull ring. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Pym? Isn't he the one that made the suit for that dude that can shrink and get big?” Sam spoke up. You stifled a laugh, shaking your head.

“Your talking about Scott Lang right? Dr. Pym likes to call him Ant-man.” you corrected Sam swiftly. “I worked with Dr. Pym briefly years ago, he owes me a few favors so now Clint gets some cool arrows.”

“Hell yeah!” Clint said.

“Alright I have to head to the lab soon, I got some new tech for you too Sam so I expect both you and Clint to meet me there tomorrow to play around with it” you pointed your index finger toward sam with a coy grin on your face.

Sam's eyebrow perked up, “i thought you were a doctor? Like Helen?” he asked with his arms crossed across his chest.

“For your information, I have a very impressive engineering resume. Tony wouldn’t like me so much if I just treated bullet wounds.” grin was still apparent on your face as you spoke. Your sheer confidence intimidated Bucky, whether he’d admit that to himself or not.

“I have to head out now, it was a pleasure meeting you guys.”

Everyone except Bucky said a short goodbye as your clicking heels faded into the distance slowly. Wanda practically skipped back to the couch to watch her sitcom. Bucky must have been staring too hard because he earned a harsh nudge to his side from Sam. “Dude, you got a bad staring problem.”

“What?” his eyebrows still furrowed, the creases around his forehead accentuated more.

“Bucky, you were staring at her lips the moment you walked over here,” Steve added, eyebrows raises and a teased look across his face. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“She had– like something…” Bucky trailed off, motioning his index finger toward his mouth, trying to find the words to describe whatever was in your mouth. “It looked like a ring or something.”

“It's a smiley piercing.”

Bucky winched, “why would it be there though?”

A quick laugh came from Sam as he playfylly slapped his shoulder. “Man, you really are old.”

An offended look grew on Bucky’s face but before he could protest against Sam or send a snarky comment back, Clint spoke up. “Maybe he's just saying that to cover up for thinking she's cute.” Clint teased Bucky, a shit-eating grin across his face.

“Whatever,” Bucky spoke, deciding his time of relaxing was over and he needed to hit the gym before dinner.

But before he could leave the room a quick yell from Clint could be heard, “the robots not denying it!”

Bucky didn’t say anything to entertain that comment. Continuing his way to the gym, followed by a grunt and a quick roll of his eyes. He totally is not thinking of you or your outfits.

*****

It was early morning and the smell of buttermilk pancakes filled bucky’s nostrils, reminding him slightly of when his Ma would cook for him and Steve after a sleepover. But instead, it was Sam making the pancakes, swaying ever so slightly on his feet as he hums to some song. Steve sat next to him with a newspaper in hand. Natasha joined their breakfast a little late, having just come back from a mission.

Sam handed him a plate of food and it didn’t take long for him to finish it and put the empty plate back in the sink to be cleaned later. Steve piped up, “anyone wants to join me on my run this morning? Sam?”

Sam turned the stove off and put away the dirty mixing bowl, “Nah man, I gotta head outside soon and test out that new tech with Clint”

Natasha's head perked up in interest, asking Sam if he was meeting you. A quick nod and hum in agreement.

“She refuses to tell me what she did to my wings, said it has to be a surprise.” he grinned. Bucky has started to notice the way you’re becoming a prominent member of this ‘team’, with your name seemly popping up in every conversation somehow.

Everyone was growing to like you more and more. Bucky could understand why that is but so much about you was so unknown, curiosity filled his mind whenever he thought about you. That is, he totally doesn't spend his off time thinking of you.

“I’m more than positive that girl is going to have ahold of the entire team’s tech by the end of the month,” Natasha spoke. “She’s beyond impressive in her element.”

Bucky thought of a stupid idea for a moment, not being able to hold himself back. “Can I come with?” Bucky asked Sam.

Everyone's head perked towards the brunette, the looks across everyone’s face could only be described as udder amusement but also confusion.

“I mean, I don't see why not.” Sam shrugged, almost unsure of his answer.

Natasha scoffed playfully. “I think Clint was right.”

“What?” Bucky spoke.

“Clint thinks you have a crush on her.” Natasha spoke, sporting an amused grin. “said, and I quote, ‘he was staring at her and her lips like his life depended on it.’”

An almost offended look grew on Bucky’s face, “was not”

Natasha just shrugged, but still wore a smirk on her face as he watched Bucky leave the kitchen next to Sam. Steve's eyes were still locked onto his newspaper like the old man he is but Natasha couldn't contain herself.

“Can you tell when bucky’s interested in people?” she asked Steve.

Steve thought for a moment, “I mean back then he would talk sweetly to any girl he could get on the dance floor, but now. I’m not so sure.”

Natasha hummed in response. “I don't know though, bucky was giving her some looks in the lab and also in the common rooms yesterday,” Steve added quickly.

“Interesting.”

On the other side of the building, Sam and sucky walked side by side as they approached the entrance to the training yard. With the shining sunlight hitting their faces, Bucky kinda wished he grabbed sunglasses.

You and Clint stood in the middle, a couple of meters away from some targets, assuming your arrow test runs have already started. Your head perked towards the two avengers and a warm smile grew on your face as you brought your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun.

“Hey guys!” you yelled, waving your hand in their direction. Bucky was surprised to see you in just a plain black t-shirt and shorts, your shorts were still very short. But at this point that didn’t surprise him. You greeted the both of them, with a notepad in your hands. “goodmorning”

“Alright, watcha got for me doc.” Sam started right into it, jokingly rubbing his hands together in greed.

You laughed softly, “we’ll get to you when it's your turn.’

“I’m excited to see Clint use his Pymarrows.” you turned towards Clint with eyes full of pure desire. Bucky might just have a staring problem or he might have just thought you kinda did look cute.

You pulled a few sets of arrows out of a case and started to ramble on about them, using terms bucky wished he understood. “Okay Clint, you’re going to shoot this arrow up high so the arrow hits straight into the ground, far away from us though.”

You pulled a second arrow out, “and then shoot this one forward right after that so they meet in the air, do you understand? Can you do that?”

Clint nodded yet had a confused look on his face. “Yes, but what's gonna happen?

“You’ll see,” you spoke with a sly smirk, the look on your face concerned the three men. Even more, after a mumbled ‘tony is going to kill me’ escaped your lips.

Clint positioned himself to shoot the arrow high up, and it went up. Next, grabbing the second one from you and swiftly getting in the correct position to hit the first one mid-air, letting the arrow go and as it flew threw the air and came in contact with the first one, Bucky (along with the rest of the group) breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

Tony was so going to kill you.

“Holy shit.” Sam breathed out.

The first arrow Clint shot grew ten times its size. hitting straight into the lawn, probably leaving a meter-wide hole as it stood up straight into the air, the height of an old tree. Bucky had to crane his head up to see the top. The three boy’s mouths gaped open at the sight while it looked like you were going to burst from excitement.

“Yes! It worked!” you jumped up and down, dramatically throwing your fist in the air like a child. “That's so fucking cool!”

“Oh my god” was the only thing Clint could say, muttering under his breath with his bow still in his hands. “I feel like I’m not responsible enough for this”

Bucky realized why Natasha spoke so highly of you now, he was utterly impressed and his curiosity only grew larger at this moment. He let out a breath and realized he was in for it now.

Bucky found somewhere to sit as he watched you work on arrows and other technology as Clint practiced with a plethora of trick arrows. Seeing the look in your eyes as you explain how they worked or watching your invention sparked something in Bucky, you looked like you were glowing.

Bucky continued to keep close eyes on you while you explained to Sam his new technology, it was also nice seeing Sam's face light up as he tested all his new features, you definitely were having an effect at the compound.

“Hah, soon enough I'll be able to take you easily, Barnes.” Sam snarked towards Bucky.

“In your dreams, Wilson.” a soft smile rose to Bucky’s face. You notice and realized that was the first time you had seen Bucky’s smile.

Sam went back to fly around, testing his new cruise configurations or new thrusters. You were standing closer to Bucky now, your head turned to him. “You should do that more often,” you spoke softly in his direction.

“What?” Bucky’s head turned to see you looking fondly down at him.

“Smile, your smile is nice.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, he was more than sure a slight red tint grew to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He panned his head back to Sam, beginning to fidget by playing with the grass on the ground beside him like a small child. You soon joined Bucky, sitting next to him on the ground.

The awkward silence between the two of you killed Bucky, his head panned back over to you soon enough. You were writing down what Bucky assumed to be notes, your tongue slightly sticking out at the corner in concentration. He noted the plainness of your outfit again.

“No cool outfit today?” Bucky asked innocently

Your eyes met his and he crumbled, you smiled so brightly toward him. “You think my outfits are cool?” you spoke, you aren’t going to lie and say you weren't basking in the validation from the super-soldier. You spent too much time and money on your outfits for people to not amend you for it. You felt slightly giddy, today was a good day.

Bucky shrugged in response, fumbling over his words slightly. Losing his focus while you gave him such a look. “I mean, uh– yeah, they're a lot, but they're cool…”

Smooth, so smooth james.

“Thank you,” you said, going back to writing down notes. Bucky let out a breath. “I’m taking advantage of the compounds gym so I don't have to pay a membership at a public one anymore. I came from a workout before this.”

Bucky just nodded and hummed in agreement. Clint cleaned up his arrows and took one last amused look at the still very large arrow sticking out the front of the ground.

“You gonna take care of that or..?”

You giggled under your breath, squinting your eyes to look up at Clint. “Yeah, I’ll shrink it down and explain to Tony why theirs a big hole in the ground later. You can go if you’d like, I’ll drop off extra trick arrows later.”

You smiled warmly at Clint and grabbed the rest of his stuff before bidding you goodbye, “tell birdy I said bye, see you later lovebirds!” Clint shouted out as he headed for the doors. You shook your head at the teasing comment.

Bucky just felt more warmth spread to his ears.

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barns x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel #james buchanan barnes

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asphalt-cocktail · 7 months

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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

#bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #LUT #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x plus size reader

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cerridwen007 · 1 year

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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.”

******

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil smut #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x reader

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cheritzteam · 5 months

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[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 >

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Participate in the Blossoming Spring Celebratory Study that opens on May 7, 2024 and receive cute illustrations!

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penny-anna · 1 year

Text

i bought a flat this week.

was off work sick last thursday/friday with what turned out to be the beginnings of a bad cold but at the time i was just like 'oh no why am i so tired is this the return of the Mystery Fatigue'

let's backtrack for a second!! back when i had the offer accepted on my flat my solicitor suggested october 6th as a move in date and i was like sure that works (this was around the beginning of september). then i didn't hear anything from them for many days and then i started getting major dry eye problems that became all consuming so i didn't get around to chasing them.

anyway!! tuesday last week i get an email from my solicitor like 'hi are you still able to complete friday' and i did not have the headspace to deal with it so i didn't reply

Wednesday my solicitor calls like 'hi. we need to know if you want to complete friday'. i'm like 'actually i'm really not feeling well this week, could we postpone'. she calls back a few minutes later like 'they cannot postone'. at this point i'm still thinking that if i get a decent night's sleep i'll feel better so i tell her i'll deal with it in the morning.

Thursday i feel spectacularly worse. have to get up to go to an appointment with my optometrist. almost start crying in their office bcos i'm just so exhausted. (he seemed weirdly unfazed by this?? looking back i wonder if he thought my eyes were hurting or something and didn't realise that i was holding back tears gfhglj) call out sick from work.

plan is to take a nap and then look at the documents my solicitor sent over but she calls me again like 'hi. sorry to bother you i know you're sick but can we complete today' so i'm like ah shit ig we're doing this now. please walk me through exactly what you need me to do here. 'we just need you to send us the money'. yeah i can do that. i've never made a payment this big before tho.

(i'm buying w money inherited from my mother so even for a flat purchase it's an unusually large amount of money)

'oh yeah you won't be able to that online. *pause* are you well enough to go to the bank?' i am tired enough that going to the bank will suck but not so sick i cannot go to the bank.

i had gone fully back to bed. spurred on by sudden wave of adrenaline, get out of bed and dressed and get the bus into town to the bank.

my bank closes at 3pm weekdays and by the time i get that it's about 1:45. explain the situation. turns out that to make a payment this big you need a sit-down meeting with a member of staff and they are booked solid till 3. 'can you come back tomorrow at 9:30 when we open' *dying inside* yes. i can come back tomorrow at 9:30.

go home. remember that i'd told my manager that i'd call her at 9 to let her know if i'm going to be working (i will defo not be working & she knows this) which will be tricky if i have to leave at 9 to go to the bank. have a pretty interminable IM conversation via microsoft teams about this wherein i suggest i message her first thing and call a bit later and she isn't going for it. eventually agree to call at 9 just so i can end the conversation and go to sleep.

Friday morning end up calling my manager from the bus. get to bank. whole thing takes a full 30 minutes so yeah i can see why they couldn't fit me in thursday afternoon ghfdljkfhdj. i'm so so tired. they have to go over a whole fraud prevention statement with you. 'you should be aware that scammers can pretend to be your solicitor'. me, exhausted: okay what if just this one time. a scammer is pretending to be my solicitor.

make the payment. go home to sleep finally.

later in the afternoon get another call from the solicitor. 'hi we have the keys you can come get them whenever'. oh yeah i'd been so caught up in trying to get them the money i'd kinda forgotten about. actually getting the flat.

(side note at no point was i planning to move in on 'moving day', an advantage of being a first time buyer is that i don't have to & i want to redecorate the place which is easier while it's empty)

initially say i'll come in next week but then realise that ideally next week i'll be back at work (i am not but anyway) so i might as well go now. it's pushing 4pm so will need to head out ASAP.

eyes are very dry and itchy from sleeping all day but fortunately i just (on a recommendation from my optometrist) bought a thing called a facial sauna which is a very weird contraption but does work extremely quickly.

pack my eye drops and also a peanut butter sandwich to eat in my new flat (why not) and go get the keys.

arrive at the flat. on inspection realise that the envelope i've been given seems to contain the most random assortment of loose keys. eventually identify an actual set of keys.

put my key in the lock of the flat door. abruptly hear a cat meowing, somewhere very close by.

previous owner had cats (plural) (i know this bcos i saw them when i was viewing the place). have a sudden moment of panic that i've somehow wildly misunderstood the whole situation and that she and her cats are still in residence.

look down. there is a very large, very fluffy white cat standing next to me, looking up at me as if expecting to be let in.

'you can't come in. this is my house.'

make my first mistake: think that if i open the door i will be able to prevent the cat from entering.

cat goes straight on into my flat.

i'm now pursuing the cat from room to room saying 'hey! hey you can't be in here! this is my house!'. the cat doesn't give a shit for obvious reasons (it is a cat)

i might have considered just shooing the cat outside and shutting the door but have arrived at an IMO not unreasonable concern. cat seemed very determined to enter this flat in particular and is now roaming around as if looking for something. previous owner had multiple cats and moved out AFAIK today. i have heard stories about people accidentally leaving cats behind when they move.

at this point it's 4:55 on a Friday. call my solicitor and explain the situation. ask if she could pass on a message to the seller's solicitor. unfortunately they have already closed for the week so it will have to wait till Monday but she will do her best.

decide the next course of action is to see if the cat has any ID. the cat is wearing a harness & collar so might have a tag with an address. make my second mistake: pick the cat up.

the cat does not have any ID on the harness. the cat does NOT like being picked up. cat gets very squirmy and then begins scratching me. cat manages to break my skin through a hoodie.

i put the cat down. the cat hisses at me. this is very rude considering that it is in my house.

head across the landing to see if the people opposite are missing a cat or, failing that, know their neighbours well enough to recognise the cat. there's no answer.

however!! i hear a voice down in the stairwell that sounds like it could be someone calling out a cat's name. 'hi!! is someone down there looking for a cat?' no answer.

look down the stairwell. on the ground floor there is a very large fluffy brown cat wearing a harness. !!!!! that is my cat's friend!

retrieve the cat from my flat (fortunately it just follows me out) and head downstairs. am met partway up by the cat's owner.

'oh thank god is this your cat'. it is her cat. apparently she had opened her front door to let them out into the garden and it had wandered off. 'i just moved in today it came into my flat'.

she is very apologetic. cat is unrepetent.

go back inside. call my solicitor's office. 'hi was it you i spoke to just now about the cat' (I told 2 people about the cat) 'no i just answered the phone because it was ringing. what cat.' 'can you tell *solicitor's name* that i have found the cat's owner. she will know what you mean'.

problem solved!! time to eat my peanut butter sandwich. :)

#long post

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Well Met By Moonlight Part 3

Hi!! So I can't link to part 2 (well I can, but that whole section remains lost) at the moment because the damn post is broke and can't be edited and according the belabored staff it was an issue for a lot of people that posted during that seven hour window when the tags were down last Thursday. So they have a shit ton of help tickets to wade through, though they have assured me they are looking into it.

But as soon as they have it figured out I will link back to the original post, until then I'll link the fixed reposted version for now and apologize profusely for the fuck up.

I have the whole back story plotted out for what happened and why, I'm just not sure where the story is going to go to get to those reveals. However this means you get enjoy the ride with me.

So without further ado, Steve gets his man vampire.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve turned to Robin. “Telling you to leave, too isn’t going to work, is it?” he asked with a sigh.

She grinned at him. “Nope!”

He turned to Eddie who had been watching the whole interaction with a curious tilt to his head. Steve thought he looked like a puppy like that. Big brown eyes, adorable head tilt, the hair being a stand-in for floppy ears...

Puppy.

He was also one hundred percent sure that Eddie would have been offended by the comparison.

“What’s got you smiling like that, sweetheart?” Eddie asked.

“You,” Steve replied truthfully.

Robin faked retching. “Oh my god, I’m going to gag on the absolute sap oozing off the both of you.”

Steve blushed, but Eddie wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

“That’s it,” Robin said, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m out of here. Steve, don’t die. Eddie, you hurt my best friend and not even all the vampires in the coven and all the wolves in this pack would be able to stop me from ripping you to pieces, do you understand?”

Eddie smiled with just his lips, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “I read you loud and clear.”

Robin nodded and then marched back into the trees.

Suddenly Steve could feel the importance of it just being the two of them.

He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek nervously. “I wanted to thank you for the rescue. I was so sure I was going to die that night.”

Eddie grinned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m glad Uncle Wayne sent me.”

Steve felt his insides turn cold. “Oh. You only came to my rescue because Wayne sent you?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side thoughtfully as he took in the question. “Sweetheart, I think you misunderstand something. Rescuing you was an obligation to the pack leader, loyalty to my uncle and maker, and a sign of my love and devotion for you. I don’t need to have a single reason. I’m allowed multiple reasons for doing something.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. “For doing you.”

Steve snorted, but the ice was beginning to melt in his gut. Eddie took a step closer and then another when Steve didn’t flinch or take a step back. Soon they were inches from each other.

“I am worried,” Eddie murmured gently. “What kind of trouble a turned vampire and a werewolf alpha would cause in a town that is already balanced on the edge of a knife.”

Steve nodded, carefully taking Eddie’s face into his hands. “I’m worried too. But I think we’re going to need band together not just turned vampires like you and your uncle and my pack, but the coven, too. What happened to me was just the tip of the iceberg and the new sheriff seems shockingly anti-supernatural.”

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded. “God, do you know how much I’ve wanted to stand here with you like this? To have you see me?”

Steve brought their foreheads together. “I did see you, Eds. I did. But I wasn’t the alpha then and you were a mere mortal.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath. “It’s why I asked Wayne to change me, you know. Because if Hopper was afraid of him then made if he made me, Hopper would have to let me near you.”

“Oh, darling...” Steve murmured. “I wish you didn’t have to do that, but I don’t think your uncle would have appreciated me turning you into a werewolf, so...”

Eddie threw back his head a laugh. “Oh god! The look on his face would have been priceless. I almost wish I had waited until I was twenty-one to ask, just for that reason.”

Steve smiled. “Yes, but then it would have been Wayne that rescued me and I wouldn’t gotten to see how sexy you are when you chase your prey.”

Eddie’s face transformed under the feral grin that spread over his features. “You get a little hot and bothered watching me defend you, baby?”

Steve bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

“No?” Eddie asked tilting his head to side, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah...” Steve said, dragging the word out slowly. “To say I was a little hot and bothered would be a little like calling a tornado a gentle breeze.”

Eddie laughed and turned his head away, pulling gently out of Steve’s hands. He looked back at Steve who now shared his dopey grin. “And people in this town call me the menace.”

Steve laughed too. “I just get to hide my weirdness under the guise of being a werewolf.”

“I’d really like to kiss you now,” Eddie murmured.

Steve stepped into his space, their chests nearly touching. “I was wondering when you were going ask.”

Eddie chuckled and tangled his hands into Steve’s hair, drawing their faces close. Their lips were a literal breath away when Eddie stopped, just taking in the mingling of their air as they were already panting.

Steve closed the remaining distance and finally, finally they were kissing. It lit every nerve ending in Steve’s body up like a firework. He never knew kissing could feel like this. He gripped the back of Eddie’s leather jacket and held on for dear life.

“Wow.” Eddie felt like he had been forced to run the mile in gym. He couldn’t breath, his heart was beating erratically, and every muscle burned. It was amazing. He dived back in and kissed Steve again. He couldn’t get enough.

Steve had never felt like this in his life. It was deep and sensual and everything he had been told growing up that love should be. And now he was standing on the edge of precipice waiting for that last gust of wind to knock him over the cliff and into Eddie’s strong arms.

“Fuck, Eds,” he breathed when they stopped for breath. “You smell, taste, and feel amazing. God, I don’t want to stop.”

Eddie let out a growl, deep from his throat. “I know, baby. I know. But if we don’t your entire pack is going to get an eyeful.”

Steve chuckled. “Nudity isn’t a problem with packs. All the shifting makes it hard on clothes.”

Eddie’s growl turned into groan. “You can’t just say shit like that when my dick is that hard. It’s gone soft thinking about seeing Murray or Hopper naked.”

Steve laugh startled out of him. “Yeah, I could see that having an effect. I do know a place we could be alone if you wanted.”

Eddie smiled. “I like the way you think, sweetheart.”

Steve let out an ear piercing whistle and a large black, shaggy wolf came running up through the tree line. The wolf sat down and wagged its tail happily.

Steve laughed. “I figured it would be you. You’re on sentry duty until I get back at dawn. I’m going to Skull Rock.”

“You got it, alpha,” the black wolf said his voice thick with a barely contained giggle.

Steve knelt down and they hugged each other with their necks, allowing their scents to mingle.

“I’m glad you’re still the alpha,” the wolf whispered.

Steve stood up. “I will protect this pack with everything in my power. I promise you that.”

The wolf nodded solemnly.

Steve turned to Eddie. “Come on. I’ll race you to Skull Rock.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, but before he retort, Steve had shifted and was sprinting in the direction of the local landmark.

The wolf let out a breathy laugh that only wolves could make. “You better start flapping those wings, lover boy. Otherwise Steve will beat you.”

Eddie shook his head and took flight, transforming as he leapt into the air.

Eddie managed to barely pull out a win by tackling Steve right before the rock out cropping and rolled to the finish line.

Steve ended up on top of the vampire fully human with bright laugh bubbling from his lips. “You cheated.”

Eddie grinned. “Of course I did. It’s the only way to win, babe.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”

Eddie hummed, his hands roaming over Steve’s bare skin, calloused fingers catching on the smooth expanse.

“Feels good,” Steve murmured, nosing Eddie’s throat.

Eddie’s hands continued their trek down his back, to cup his ass. “You feel amazing, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?”

Steve gasped, grinding down into Eddie’s hips. “I’m the lucky one. I never thought I would find someone who gets me the way you do.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “You werewolves go fast, don’t you?”

“We have to,” Steve murmured. “We might live longer than humans, but we don’t live nearly as long as you vampires do. If we don’t move fast we might lose a chance to breed and that would hurt the pack in the long run.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Are you going to have to breed with someone as the alpha?”

Steve buried his head deeper into Eddie’s neck. “I don’t want to. I want the Harrington line to die with me. But as the alpha I might have to.”

Eddie’s hands went back to roaming over Steve’s skin, this time to comfort. “What made you decide to go for the alpha position after Hopper was declared dead?”

Steve raised his head. “Because I looked at the other options and knew that if I didn’t, the pack would be stuck in the old ways and people like Carver would kill us all.” He gave Eddie a peck on the lips. “Would you want to be in a pack under Ted Wheeler or Murray Bauman?”

“Wait,” Eddie said raising both eyebrows in surprise, “those were your two options ultra-conservative Ted Wheeler or super conspiracy nut Murray Bauman?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was insane.”

“What about Derek Sinclair or oh...” Eddie’s brain finally caught up to his mouth. “Oh shit. It was literally you or the old guard, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “And then when Joyce got supplanted by Nancy as alpha female, her and Murray conspired to bring Hopper back so that things could go back to the way things were before.”

“That’s messed up,” Eddie said. “Could you banish them for that?”

Steve sighed, rolling off Eddie to lie next to him on the ground. “I’ve thought about it a lot, I won’t lie. But I worry how Jonathan and Will are going to react to their own mother getting banished. Would I end up having to banish them too? Could I split up a family like that? Would they willingly go with her?”

“That’s a lot to think about,” Eddie agreed, rolling over on his side and propping his head up by his elbow. “Especially for someone so young.”

“I’m not a fan of Billy Hargrove, the racist, homophobic asshole that he is,” Steve said, “but he is the reason I tried for the alpha role in the first place. If he could take over the coven at the young age of eighteen, then I could take over the pack at the tender age of nineteen.”

“Wayne told me that the amount of supe on supe violence has gone down since you took over,” Eddie said. “The coven respects the pack and the pack respects the coven.”

Steve nodded. “I still wouldn’t mind having outside voices from the pack. The echo chamber has gotten so loud that we get bullshit like the pack tearing apart a vampire that wandered into the encampment instead of helping him or accepting his help, in the case of you rescuing me.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s that suspicion that breeds contempt and allows people like Jason Carver to stir up the town against its supernatural founders.”

Steve sighed. “I worry about the undercurrent of distrust that’s been building for god knows how long.”

“Let me help you forget about it for awhile, baby,” Eddie murmured.

A shiver ran down Steve’s spine in anticipation. “Yes, please.”

Eddie leaned for a kiss and then pulled Steve back over on him.

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Yes, everyone, Billy is in this and while he still is all the things that made him repugnant, Steve still respects him. But we'll get more into that at later date.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #vampire eddie munson #werewolf steve harrington

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minawritesfanfic · 9 days

Text

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.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#minawritesfanfic #reader insert #x reader #my writing #fanfiction #fluff #dexter moser #dexter morgan #dexter #dexter morgan x reader #first chapter

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malecdiscordserver · 8 months

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Calling all Shadowhunters creators--it's time to dust off your notebooks, sketchbooks, laptops, drawing tablets, and other creative instruments.

Welcome to By the Angel Bingo!

What is By the Angel Bingo? By the Angel Bingo is a Shadowhunters-themed event where you request a grid of prompts in the layout of a bingo board. The goal is to fill the prompts until you get a traditional bingo (filling 3 or 5 in a row, column, or diagonally) or until you blackout your entire board!

Do I have to be a part of the Malec Discord Server to sign up? No, being a part of the Malec Discord Server Community is not required to be a part of this event, but it is highly encouraged if you’re looking for friends to bounce ideas off of, if you need help finding a beta reader, or if you’re just looking for Shadow Fam to hang out with.

What is the schedule?

Sign-ups open: February 1st

Sign-ups close: February 29th

Last day to request prompt changes: March 31st

Masterpost due by: September 30th

Have more questions? Join the Malec Discord Server or keep reading under the cut for official rules, minimum requirements, and other FAQs!

How will it work? On Thursday, February 1st, sign-ups will open for a bingo card. In your sign-up, you will be asked a few questions including what size bingo card you’d like (3x3 or 5x5). You will then receive a bingo card from one of the Mods to your preferred method of contact within 3-5 days. Sign-ups will remain open until Thursday, February 29th. From there, you’ll have until Monday, September 30, to complete what you can on your bingo card!

What if I don’t like my prompts? You may request 3 (for 3x3 cards) or 5 (for 5x5 cards) replacement prompts at one time. If you need more than 3-5 prompts replaced, you will be sent an entirely new card. This can only happen once. If you receive a new card, you can request 3-5 replacement prompts again for the last time. You can request changes to your board until March 31st, a month after sign-ups close.

Can I sign up if I’m under 18? Yes! Anyone is able to receive a bingo card, but you must be over the age of 18 to request NSFW prompts or submit NSFW fills. You also must be over the age of 16 to join the Malec Server.

Are there any content restrictions? This bingo is open to all creations; fic, art, gifs, videos, moodboards, playlists, cosplay, physical art, etc. All bingo fills must be Shadowhunters-related. Any ships/characters/ratings are permitted as long as they are properly tagged. RPF is not allowed for this event.

Am I required to get a bingo or blackout my card? Not at all! You can fill as little or as many prompts as you have the time/energy to complete. This is low to no stress. Low risk, high reward. HAVE FUN.

Can I combine prompts? Each prompt needs to be its own fill, but you can post a multi-chapter fic or art series with one prompt per chapter/piece.

What if I black out my entire card before the final posting date? Congrats! You did it! You can either be done OR ask for a second bingo card.

Minimum requirements:

Fic: 500 words

Digital/physical art: 1 piece

Photomanipulation: 1 piece

Gifsets: 2 gifs

Moodboards: 4 images

Video: 30 seconds

Playlists: 10 songs

Podfic: 500 words (with author’s permission)

Rules:

You must be over 18 to request NSFW prompts and submit NSFW fills. You have to be over 16 to join the Malec Server.

Any Shadowhunters-related ships/characters/ratings are permitted as long as they are tagged appropriately.

You may create works based off of the show, books, or movies, but no RPF is allowed.

You may request a 3x3 card (8 prompts) or a 5x5 card (24 prompts).

You may request 3 (for 3x3) or 5 (for 5x5) replacement prompts at one time.

If you need more than 3-5 prompts replaced, you will be sent an entirely new card.

This can only happen once. If you receive a new card, you can request 3-5 replacement prompts again for the last time.

You can request changes to your board until March 31st, a month after sign-ups close.

Each card has one “FREE SPACE” to be used as a wildcard where you can submit any creation that follows the rules of the event.

Each prompt needs to be its own completed fill, but you can post a multi-chapter fic or art series with one prompt per chapter/piece.

Each fill must be NEW during the bingo posting period. No past creations may be used as a fill.

Fills can be combined with other events (i.e. Femslash February, Any Fandom Bingo, Trope-specific bingos, etc.) only if the other event allows it and you meet the minimum requirements for both events.

Prompts can be interpreted as literally or figuratively as you like (I.e. A/B/O meaning a frat house, or falling to your knees in the sense of lust, despair, clumsiness, etc.) If you think it fits, it probably fits.

All bingo fills must be added to the AO3 collection. If posted on Tumblr/Twitter, the Malec Discord Server must be tagged (@malecdiscordserver/@MalecServer).

If you are participating in this bingo, you are not allowed to shame any ships/kinks/characters/content of any kind created by other participants. Failure to follow this rule may lead to a lifetime ban of Malec Discord Server-run events. We’re in this for a good time, not a dramatic time.

#shadowhunters #malec #writing event #fandom bingo #bingo event #art event #bingo #magnus bane #alec lightwood #the mortal instruments #jimon #clizzy #clace #clary fairchild #simon lewis #clary fray #jace wayland #izzy lightwood #mdsevents

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netherworldpost · 2 months

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Netherworld Post Office is on pause until Monday, July 22, 2024. If we can re-open earlier, we will.

All open orders have been sent out as of Thursday, July 11, 2024.

We will be reopening with existing greeting card artwork, plus new cards. And postcards of all new and existing designs.

We are expanding our envelope color option from 1 color to 10. Including black. I've missed black envelopes. Orange, too. Yellow. Red. Blue will be great for mermaid mail.

(I continue to list colors while steadily ignoring the We Know What Colors Are gestures I am offered.)

I've designed three product lines of fantasy moon coin postage stamps. If you purchased our Friday $0.13 card, you've seen the artwork for some of them.

Ending the ramble: The shop door is locked for several days to allow me to fret and re-arrange the shelves without concern of breaking orders.

See you all soon!

If you would like an email notification when we re-open:

netherworldpost.com

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seenoversundown · 4 months

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For Death Or Glory : Chapter Two

Warnings: uncomfortable tension, drinking/alcohol, brief mentions of depression (if you read the context clues it’s there), anxious themes, the boys are yet again being ridiculous.

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Charlotte’s first encounter with Jake is none other than memorable. Battling her internal monologue is how she lives her daily life, so this situation is only letting those voices run wild.

Author’s Note: Early chapter two because I am so so so excited for you to meet Charlotte! She’s been one of the most fun characters to create because she has such a specific personality. I hope you love her xoxo see you on Thursday 🥰

Looks That Kill - Motley Crue “If you don’t get her name, you might not make it back.”

“In 300 feet, turn right,” plays through my car’s speakers as I slowly drive through these cramped streets. All the buildings are covered in red brick, some with vines attached; it’s a quaint little area in the city.

I pull into a parking space and check the maps on my phone again; okay, it’s only a street over; I can just walk that. Grabbing my bag and the folder I’ve been sent with, I step out and promptly lock my doors. Looking at my reflection in my windows, I gently adjust my pants and ensure my shirt is still tucked in. Leaning in and reapplying my dark red lip, I need to make sure I look professional.

It’s mid-afternoon and fairly quiet, so all I can hear is the click of my shoes as I walk towards the bar. Well, Tavern, rather. The sign jutting out from the building, the ocean peaking out just behind it, that’s a beautiful accident, now isn’t it? As I approach, I notice the cobblestone street directly across from it. Which must be a nightmare at 1:30 am.

I took a deep breath before grabbing the door and mentally prepared for this conversation. Or so I thought. The door chime rings loudly, given only ten people are in the bar. The red glow is intense even though it’s still light out. I can’t help but notice the immense amount of pirate memorabilia on the walls and the cute vintage jukebox in the corner.

As I take it in, I hear the chatter from the patrons sitting at the bar slowly increase in volume. I look over to see a petite man with a curly head of hair laughing loudly at the girl he’s sat next to. Quickly startled out of my focus by a tall, slender gentleman.

“You look lost,” he quietly says, a completely different vibe from the rest of this place, taking me aback, “Do you need something?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” I stammer a bit, not expecting someone to come out of thin air like that, “I’m actually here because some paperwork wasn’t completed when the bar opened.”

“Oh!” his eyes go wide, “he will be the one you want to talk to, darling,” he says rather quickly, pointing towards the bar.

“Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” I ask, attempting to sound as confident as I can.

Suddenly, the two sat at the bar looked over to me, with the one behind the bar turning to me before, in unison, they asked, “Which one?” The long-haired ‘girl’ turned to reveal that I was, in fact, very wrong. How many long-haired men are in this bar right now? Jesus Christ.

I looked into the folder, and seeing his name at the top, I thought, “Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

They both point at the one behind the bar, with his hair tied into a low bun, shirt halfway open, and towel tossed over his shoulder. He’s definitely not who I expected to run into here; I figured I would be dealing with a larger, burly sailor-type man who just quit working at the shipyard.

“What do you need from me, dear?” his voice soft and raspy, which continued to throw me off.

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” I start, with him quickly interjecting.

“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,” the three of them giggling at his comment. Are they all brothers? I mean, I guess they do look similar the harder I look at them.. Unimportant.

He extends his hand over the bar, and I quickly shift everything into the other arm to meet his.

“Charlotte Rhodes,” I tell him, trying to focus on my grasp being firm on his hand.

“Well, Jacob, unfortunately, you did not finish filling out some of this paperwork when you opened the bar officially,” I tell him, watching his smile falter a bit. This is the part I hate.

“I’ve been sent here to tell you what is needed from you. It shouldn’t take too long to get situated.” I start flipping through the paperwork, looking for the pages that he needs.

“Jesus, Jake,” the long-haired one pipes up, “Paperwork’s the only thing fucking you right now, huh?” followed by the most accurate description of a “ha ha ha” laugh I’ve ever heard.

“SAM,” the petite curly-headed one interjects, his eyes widening. “Not the time.”

The one who I’ve now learned is Sam mutters, “Tough crowd,” under his breath.

I inhale deeply, letting out a “Riiiiiiight” on the exhale. I grab a blank piece of paper from the folder, set it in front of myself, and scribble down little things to not forget. ‘Long hair, facial hair, taller = Sam.’

As I’m informing him, I watch a young woman waltz behind the bar, starting to wipe down wine glasses and put them away. She is minding her own business, but nonetheless, she’s behind the bar.

“Um,” I pause, “Who is that?” I quietly ask, pointing at her subtly.

I swear I watch the color in his face drain out like a cartoon. Oh no, he hasn’t filed paperwork for her either. Well, that’s karma for you!

“I just hired her,” the subtle panic lacing his voice, “Uh, I just haven’t had time to, um,” he keeps stumbling over his words. One of his hands finds its place on the back of his neck, giving away that he’s getting overwhelmed.

I don’t know what comes over me; I open the folder, pull out a packet of stapled paperwork, and flip through it.

“According to your payroll, Joshua M Kiszka and Daniel R Wagner are the only two employees currently.” Noticing the handful of hired and terminated employees below them and choosing not to bring them up.

“Only I call-” Sam speaks up, locking eyes with the girl behind the bar, “WE call him Daniel.”

“Unfortunately, ‘Daniel’ is the only name I was provided,” I know my confusion is apparent on my face. What is going on here? He’s defending Daniel’s name but also grouping this girl into it.. Are they..?

“The rest of us call him Dan or Danny,” the small one informs me.

‘Don’t use Daniel, or Sam gets emotional.’

“I really don’t mind either way-” Daniel starts to speak, quickly interrupted by Sam.

“No! That’s my- our name for you!”

I feel a slight breeze as a slender, brown-haired girl swiftly passes me, walking directly up to Sam and grabbing his arm.

She looked at me, her face twisted into an uncomfortable expression, and said, “I’m SO sorry about him.” Then she glanced at Jacob and said, “Good luck, Jake.”

She tugged on his arm, and he stood up. Much taller than I was expecting, he grabbed his drink before walking away.

“But Bird, she called him Daniel!”

“I’m very sorry, but can’t you see the professional pants she’s wearing? She’s IMPORTANT, Sam!”

“Why would I look at her pants?”

“Just leave them alone!”

I quickly shake my head, trying to remember where I was in the original conversation before things got… weird.

“Anyway,” I start, “You only have the two boys and yourself as employees, so if she is also bartending, you need to get her paperwork filled out. Otherwise, then you’re also violating payroll.” I’m watching him process everything I’ve told him, his eyes finally looking to meet mine. I can see the anxiety on his face. His eyes look so sad.

“Um,” I turn to the small man beside me, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

“Absolutely. I’m Josh, by the way,” he reaches his hand out to shake mine,

“Nice to meet you, Josh. I’m Charlotte.” I firmly shake his hand before he prances away to the booth where Sam, the girl who stole him away, and someone else is sitting.

“I’m sorry about them, or well, all of this?” Jacob finally said, “I definitely didn’t realize that I hadn’t finished things. I double-checked even before submitting it. I really had no idea. This is the first business I’ve ever run, and I’m doing it alone, basically.” His voice is still riddled with panic, and it sounds like he’s trying to make sense of it in his head.

I pull out a barstool, set the folder on the bar, and make myself comfortable in the seat. Trying to make myself seem less intimidating has always been funny to me, being a more petite girl.

“I know you’re working, but the least I can do is offer you a drink,” he says, grabbing a glass from behind him and gently shaking it to get my approval.

“Well, thank you. Whatever is easiest for you, I appreciate it.” I start looking through the folder for what I need, realizing I don’t have everything. I can just email it to him. He seems nervous. I’m sure he’ll panic to get everything in order.

“Wine? Beer?”

“Actually, if you have bourbon, that would be fine.”

I watch his eyes go from sad to almost excited. His emotions are evident on his face right now. The corners of his mouth slowly turn into a little smirk, letting out a laugh of disbelief.

“That’s my kinda girl,” he says, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelf.

Is it warm in here? Did he just- You’re working, Charlotte, get a grip.

He sets the glass of amber liquid in front of me, still smiling to himself.

“Okay, so is there anything else I messed up?”

“Not to make things worse, but is she certified?”

His eyes shut as his head drops back; I see his chest rise slowly and then fall, “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t.”

“Okay, um, so that’s not as important. Let’s just get you situated with this stuff first?” Why are we being nicer to him? He’s clearly behind on everything; just let him have it.

“Yeah, whatever I need to do. I really am sorry I didn’t do this before.”

I’m literally ruining this guy’s entire day. Which is his fault. Well, yes, but he feels so bad about it. I’m more used to having owners storm off, not talk to me, or the opposite, yell directly into my face about it. Also, to be fair, I’m not used to bar owners being close in age to me. I’m definitely more accustomed to older gentlemen who would rather risk tax evasion than get their employees on an actual payroll.

“It’s okay, Jacob,” I look back at him, setting the papers on the bar for him, “Honestly.”

His eyes look back and forth between mine like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying. The only thing I’d be lying about is that he is kind of cute. Charlotte, you’re here to do your job and leave. Yes, but he’s been very receptive and isn’t trying to degrade me for doing my job. Plus, his smile is pretty.

‘Nice smile’

I take a sip of my drink and then surprise myself.

“How about I leave all of this with you and come back in a few days to grab it? I’ll be in town for a little bit, and I don’t want to overwhelm you more than I already have.” Okay Charlotte?

“That would be perfect,” he breathes a sigh of relief, “I can absolutely get everything sorted out. Thank you so much.�� His voice is back to a more stable sound, and the anxiety seemingly has subsided.

The door chime sounds off, causing him to glance over as a handful of people come in. I grab my phone from my bag, tapping the screen to reveal 6:07 p.m. Ah, everybody’s out of work. I watch as he looks back at the girl behind the bar, back at the customers, and then at me.

“Mel,” he addresses her. Can you just find out what they want, and I’ll take care of it?” She salutes as she drops what she’s doing, mumbling, “Yes, Sir,” as she passes him. His eyes roll slightly at the comment, turning back to me. “I can have Josh clock in if you need me still.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just going to finish doing some work, and this,” I tap my glass lightly, letting a small smile slip through. His face softens a bit at the gesture.

“Okay, well, please just stop me if you need anything.”

I scroll through my emails, continuing to make little notes for myself. This bar has been interesting so far, but, the longer I sit here, the more things continue to happen. I’ve just been trying to take in everything while I’m here. Places like this are few and far between.

I look up from my phone to see Jacob fiddling with his hair, pulling the hair tie out slowly and sliding it down onto his wrist. He ran his fingers through his ends to loosely comb it out and then wrapped it back up into another little bun. His hair is so long? Also, it’s fun to watch a man pull out his baby hair. I didn’t think they knew about that.

He flips the sink on, rolling his sleeves up slightly so they sit just above his elbows. I don’t mean to stare at him while he’s doing menial things, but something is holding my attention while he washes his hands that I can’t figure out.

I try to focus on anything else, turning to see Josh walking up to Daniel with his hand held out. I can’t make out what they’re saying to each other, but Daniel grabs his hand and kisses his knuckles quickly, releasing Josh back into the chaos of the bar. Wait- so.. Who is actually with Daniel?

A notification pops up on my phone, and it’s an email from my boss.

‘Charlotte,

Again, I’m sorry to hear that you’re going to be out for a few days. How much time off do you want again? I know we just talked about this. Anyway, I hope everything goes smoothly with the Caravel Tavern. It’s a new business, so it would be a shame to see it go under quickly. I know you’ll give them hell, though.’

It’s a bit disheartening to see that the entire reason I was even coming to Portland has been dismissed, but I guess that’s just business for you. Not that I was necessarily excited to be here for a few days and not work, but at least be mindful of the reason. I offered to stop by to take care of this since I would be in the area, and maybe that should have been my sign that he didn’t care about whatever else I would be doing.

“You okay over there, Red?” his small, raspy voice somehow cut through the chatter of the bar. I look up to find him opening a beer for someone and setting it on their napkin, his smile fully displayed for them.

Taking a little sip of my drink, slowly becoming water with a hint of bourbon, I nod once.

“You really run a tight ship around here, huh?” I say as he walks back over to me. Something in that moment shifts; I don’t know what it is. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, like the subtle compliment caught him truly off guard. I can’t read what emotion he’s feeling, but his eyes are conveying something different.

“Uh, I do my best,” he finally choked out, “I probably drive them all crazy, but we’re still afloat, so something must be working.”

Mel laughs as she’s drying glasses behind him, “You’re definitely something.”

He slowly blinks with a tight smile at her comment, with a quick shake of his head. I lift my glass to my lips, taking the last bearable sip before it’s quite literally just water.

“I think I’m going to head out,” I tell him, gathering the paperwork he needs, “I’ll leave this with you; if you can please try to get it done in the next couple of days, that would be great.” He just nods at my request.

“Also, I didn’t have the physical paperwork on me to get Mel on your payroll but I can email the forms to you if that works?”

“I will do whatever is easiest.”

I’m still not used to someone cooperating as easily as he has. I came in too prepared for him to be an ass about everything, on top of surprising him with more issues. I’m grateful he isn’t making this more complicated than it needs to be.

I fold the blank sheet, hide my notes about his brothers, and slide them to him with a pen.

“Here, can you write down your email and phone number for me?” I ask quietly.

“Trying to get my number already? We just met.” He smirks at me as I cringe internally.

I just stare at him for a second too long, not able to come up with any sort of response to that.

The silence is deafening between us as his cheeks flush, his eyes darting down to the paper. He swiftly grabs the pen, scribbling down his information for me, writing his name above them, ‘Jake,’ as if I would forget.

He clears his throat before speaking, “Well, I need to, uh, go work on this, so,” his embarrassment slowly taking him over, “Drive safe, and I will see you, um, soon. Sorry about.. Everything today?”

I choke back the laugh threatening to escape me, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he’s made himself. But it was kind of cute watching him shove his foot in his mouth. I tuck the paper into my bag, grabbing my things as I stand up from the barstool.

“Oh,” I speak up, “how much do I owe you?” tapping the rim of my glass.

He leans over, grabbing the glass with a slight smile on his flushed face, “I think you earned it; it’s on me.”

“Well, thank you. Have a good night, Jacob. I’ll see you in a few days.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I hadn’t been to our lake house in a while—years, probably. We used to spend weeks at a time visiting the lake and spending time on the water. As I got older, so did my parents, we slowly stopped frequenting, but they would never get rid of it. I’ve spent countless hours convincing them to rent it out as an Airbnb, but they refuse.

The roads are a little daunting at night, with so many sharp turns and practically no street lights. I suppose I should be used to living so far north, but I know that area well. I’ve never really had to drive myself around here; I was always in the backseat for this drive.

Pulling into our dirt driveway, there she is. Our sweet little house absolutely has seen better days, but that’s okay. It feels enough like home to make the next couple of days bearable. I had been dreading this week, but even seeing the outside, in the dark no less, has made me feel a bit of relief.

Walking through the mud room and into our kitchen, it smells like a basement. It’s apparent that none of us have visited in a while, and to be fair, it’s October at this point. It’s probably for the best that I’m here for a few days so I can clean things up, and then maybe, next time my parents come, it won’t seem as… musty. It will also distract me from my own brain.

We do tend to get the better of you. Speak for yourself.

I toss my bags onto my old bed, unable to remember the last time I slept there. I finally sit, letting out a long sigh. Closing my eyes, I let my head drop back, letting the muscles stretch for a moment. The sadness building up and threatening to escape, I grab my laptop from my bag; I need to be doing something.

‘Hi,

Sorry for the late response. I stopped by the bar today. They had a lot going on, so I left the paperwork with him to fill out, and I’ll stop back there to grab it before coming home. He seemed eager to get everything done; he’s much younger than I think either of us anticipated.

As for days off, I think at least this week, and then I’ll be good to go.’

I’m not particularly good at giving myself days off, but I love my job, so why would I not work? Also, I rarely have to really connect with people, so it makes it easier to just zone out and get my work done. It’s not often that we have to hound people for their paperwork, and even when we do, it’s usually for the new employees to do. It builds character, I guess. Having grown adults scream at you definitely gives you thick skin.

Reaching down, I pull the folded paper out of my bag. Typing his email into the To: bar, attaching the documents he needs.

‘Thank you for being so flexible about this. - Charlotte’

I added a subject line, ‘New Employee Payroll Forms’, and double-checked that everything was there. I hit send. Perfect, everything is done.

Charlotte: Hi Jacob, sorry for the late text- I just sent over those forms to your email. If you can get those done ASAP, that would be wonderful. If you need assistance with anything, feel free to reach out. - Charlotte.

Feel free to reach out? Why are you offering the opportunity for him to text you? It’s literally the least we can do; you saw how overwhelmed he was.

I can see the way his face drained of color when I clocked Mel behind the bar. The way he stumbled over his words, his hand finding comfort on the back of his neck, probably to prevent from fidgeting endlessly. He definitely didn’t realize he had messed up. I don’t know why you feel bad, this happens to you all the time.

I set my laptop on my nightstand and plug in my phone. Everything is done, so now I can just do what I need to. I take the time to make something small to eat and shower, killing just enough time and relaxing enough to where I’m about to sleep. I crawl into bed, pulling my hair up into a bun on the top of my head before snuggling in.

I reach out to grab my phone and set an alarm for tomorrow morning. I opened my messages just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything or forgotten to reply to anybody.

Unknown Number: oh don’t apologize. Thank you for being patient with me, i really appreciate it.

I tap on the number at the top, saving the number, ‘Jacob’. I lock my phone, placing it back on my nightstand. Staring up at the ceiling, I attempt to fall asleep. Replaying thoughts of her in my mind, I feel a slight prick in my eyes. Finally, I succumbed to the feeling. I’m not ready. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter One

Chapter Three

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