#there’s a reason i stopped spending as much time on that site
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germesthegenie · 8 hours ago
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“I know,” Grace said, after a pause. “I get that. I get that there’s other reasons. Like the fact that you love those guys and you never loved us. Cool. Makes sense.”
“I liked you guys.”
“But you didn’t love us.”
“No,” I said.
- Venom 29.1
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Girl did NOT Cut Ties, I’m Sorry
This line was an interesting one, perhaps not with as much impact as it could’ve had due to the awkward timeskip, though it still works out in that way. Taylor’s just as disconnected from the Chicago Wards as the readers are, the time going by in a blur of Endbringer fights and preparations to stop the end of the world. Despite 2 years with this team, and while she does work with them and grows some level of bond with them over that time, she chose to spend her final birthday with the Undersiders. When she looked for anchors as she lost her mind, she didn’t choose any of the Wards, instead the members of the team she’d been with for an eighth of the time. But that time was before she’d thrown herself into stopping the end of the world, at a time where she hadn’t been as closed off and focused on the mission.
If she’d ended up on this team earlier in her life, or somehow gotten here without the looming threat of Gold Morning, would she have become as close or closer to them than the Undersiders? Or was what she had with the Undersiders more special than anything that could’ve come after, a bond formed when she was at her loneliest, and helped her grow into a person she was happy being?
Also, after scouring the various fanfic sites for Chicago Wards content, I wonder if this line is the reason the most popular pairing for Weaver among the Chicago Wards is Grace (with, like, 2 fics, but for the single digit number of fics this team has that’s a lot). The scene as a whole does kinda have breakup vibes ig, which makes the awkward pause in Imp, Tecton, and Rachel’s trolling scheme funnier xD
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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 4 months ago
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On tumblr when you post you’re just playing Russian roulette with your post getting attention, but it’ll probably get ignored.
On Reddit any comment you make outside of some very niche community will immediately have someone downvoting you and calling you like, three different insults. Then they will wonder why you only log in every couple months. Like, it’s a very helpful website when you have a question for another community you’re in, but you’ll also get someone being immediately hostile when you make an innocuous post on a garden subreddit 😑
At least on tumblr people have to actually seek out your random ass text posts and go out of their way to start shit, and you don’t have the up and down vote system that feels like playing with my self confidence and worth issues.
Both websites are toxic part of the time (what social media isn’t?) and both are actually more useful for weird people, but holy shit does Reddit feel more aggressive about shit. Maybe it’s just the devil you know, but at least on this mess of a website half your hate will be for the most random shit and misunderstandings that people have to seek out finding if your blog is a normal size. Reddit is either posting on a dead sub or getting immediately thrown to the, well, sharks and wolves aren’t actually super aggressive towards humans under normal circumstances, so something else that could tear you apart instantly for just existing in the same space as them.
#emma posts#there’s a reason i stopped spending as much time on that site#multiple actually. but one of them is that website is like ‘rsd trigger simulator’#and tumblr is like ‘how dare you say we piss on the poor’#everyone is an idiot in both places. but one is instantly more volatile#it’s preactically on sight#other social media is mostly being used by me to post my art or talk to irl friends and family#some of those sites are wild. but not in such an instant way#provided you aren’t huge or have some internet hate stalker#my first deviantart account was wild like that. you phrase something awkwardly at the age of 13 and you suddenly have one or two 16ish year#olds stalking you and telling you to Kys and threatening your family#but that was in the old days. haven’t run into that in years#but seriously. whoever those people were. I hope you feel like shit about those past actions#especially because that 13 year old had made art and posts about her depression 😑#and irl bullying#I hope you got better. sincerely. but if not? die#jk. but still#actually. no. if you’re still telling people that sort of thing try it on yourself#i don’t have a twitter. I don’t plan on getting one. but I’ve heard that’s toxic too. but for the brief time I did try it years ago I was#just ignored by most people#I also like websites where you can share other posts with followers but that might be because one of my first socials was facebook#Facebook is still useful for local stuff. but it’s not as anonymous I guess#even on Facebook though it feels somewhat less ‘on sight’ attacking#but gods. the ‘piss poor reading comprehension’ website is so much more comfortable than the ‘dog piled for asking about a plant’ website#and the ‘just block them’ culture is so useful#i make a post on Reddit like ‘anyone know of houseplants that are like this?’ and have some dude downvote me and respond like#‘are we supposed to be your servants’ like dude. just ignore the post if you don’t want to answer the question#and I’m not touching anime subs with a 10ft pole#looked at one once and went ‘never touching that again’
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wellfine · 5 months ago
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Hey I found ur art uncredited on tik Tok
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMreQSnaw/
They said they "found it on Reddit" so they just decided to steal it and post it ig?? Ugh!!
Wow, that's a whole other repost to the one I thought it was going to be, lol. It's been reposted to TikTok once before, and I'm also not surprised this person got it from Reddit, where I doubt I was credited either.
At the end of the day I appreciate the heads up but there's nothing I can really do about it. The most helpful thing anyone can do is to leave comments on the reposts to provide credit,* because if artists ever try and comment then we pretty invariably get attacked. Don't be mean or aggressive, that just builds their animosity towards the artists, but I do think people respond positively to outside pressure to do the right thing 🤷
*Remember to make sure there's enough context - eg. something like "art by @ landegart on Twitter" is more searchable/useful than "artist is Landeg" to someone on TikTok who has no idea who I am haha
#this comic has been reposted A Lot and I appreciate people keeping me in the loop but it's just wearing me down#I can't do much about it and I'd rather just ignore it rather than spend time thinking about it#especially when people get into arguments with them on my behalf and now suddenly I'M the one catching heat#like it's been reposted a couple of times to twitter too and when people tell them to credit me-#-the reposters call *me* a bitch like. I'm not even there any more you're arguing with the wall#anyway. it makes me happy to see people politely but firmly crediting artists in the comments section :) thank you!#also it's kind of interesting that the conversation has become entirely about credit. when I don't want it reposted WITH credit either#I just don't want my art reposted to sites like reddit or tiktok at all. if I wanted it there I'd share it there myself#and the fact that I don't says a lot about what kind of communities those places have fostered#there's a reason like zero artists use reddit to share their own work even though it's a pretty big platform#anyway that part isn't @ you at all anon thank you for your message & keeping me informed#it's more just how the conversation has gradually shifted from 'reposting is bad' to 'reposting without credit is bad'#i understand that it's because we can't stop people from reposting so it's basically the most we can ask for. but still#and make sure you guys aren't following reposters here on Tumblr. even a lot of the ones who say they get permission just lie lol
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[/Image ID- screenshot of a tumblr reply reading as follows:
"AI" -> machine learning. and the winners in question do not own large language models like ChatGPT. they themselves warn about the responsibility of using machine learning ethically. i cannot believe that i have to say this but machine learning / "AI" has legitimate and critical uses for healthcare, scientific discovery, etc. common examples are AI used to ID cancer cells etc. you HAVE to start disentangling what we commonly call "AI" ie. the product that is sold to you the consumer and AI used in valid and vital scientific research ie. the tool. but then again this is the piss on the poor website. ffs
/End ID]
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(Source)
#Fucking THANK YOU to all the reasonable people in the replies#I stg the reactions to the 2024 Nobel Prize in Physics on this hellsite have me chewing glass and NOT IN A GOOD WAY#Stop fucking shitting on Hopfield if you don’t understand what he did enough to actually make a nuanced critique of the decision#For my own part I think his work on associative content addressable networks is beautiful and fascinating and revolutionary#Like he laid the groundwork for studying network architectures that actually reflect some of the dynamics and associative memory structures#that you see in biological brains (unlike feedforward neural networks)#And the fact that you can model these processes with a simple cyclic graph- like that’s enough- is so beautiful#One of the things I learned doing my undergrad thesis is that cyclic graph neural network architectures can pack a powerful punch#Not in spite of but BECAUSE of their simplicity and symmetry. It genuinely shocked me at the time that was not what I was expecting#And none of this has to do with ChatGPT oh my fucking Gd not everything has to do with ChatGPT give it a REST#Anyways. Hopfield networks are a gorgeous beast and if I could spend the rest of my life researching them I’d be a very happy mathematician#The fallout from the prize decision makes me really sad because- as much as I’m already used to it from being a math person on this site-#it hurts seeing strangers get up on a soapbox and tear apart my special interest without even understanding it#just because the media described it using the wrong buzzword. Like genuinely hurts. The vitriol of it all…#Maybe I should make my own post describing exactly what I love about Hopfield networks#Maybe other people will see why they’re beautiful#That would be really nice#hopfield networks#machine learning#2024 nobel prize in physics
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euniexenoblade · 9 months ago
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Matt saying there's no bigotry in the moderation team, and replying to people with "report harassment here!" is honestly so laughable to me cuz when I was known as trans-mom, I'd spend multiple hours a day talking to young trans people on the receiving end of harassment because their reports never went anywhere. From 2014 to like 2020 I spent a sizeable chunk of every day coming to this web site and having private conversations with kids and adults alike struggling with depression and dysphoria, which was often times really pushed to their limits by harassment campaigns by terfs and transphobes in general. This is how I first got popular, not silly meme posts, not smutty stories, I gained my popularity and my nickname of "mom" cuz I sat down and had to be the needed outlet of help and advice cuz Tumblr staff never helped trans people. The only real reason I stopped being so helpful and vocal is because by that point so many fake screencaps of me and fake call outs of me had generated so much hate I just could not navigate my activity or inbox anymore. I was there helping people with harassment but I myself was not able to figure out what to do when I was getting hatemail sent every hour, what I was supposed to do when nameless throwaway blogs suddenly had my dox and deadname (which I haven't used in over a decade), reports did nothing then, reports do nothing now. Matt just pointing people to report harassment is ridiculous, staff hates trans people. They always have.
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bbystark · 2 months ago
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 1 ♡
bad!stalker!simon x reader
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♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: simon being a stalker but really it's just him being sweet. price makes an appearance. mdni
a/n: as per usual this is way longer than it needs to be, enjoy
simon kind of sucks at being a stalker but it's because he doesn't really want to scare you, he just wants to be around you
he doesn't even really realize what he's doing at first, tells himself that he's only trailing you in his car as a random act of kindness, who knows what could happen to you in broad daylight walking 2 streets over to grab a coffee
he finds your number too easily, and even pays some sketchy site $20 after a pop-up promises to scrub your information from sites like the one he's on now. wouldn't want someone finding out all the information he did
you suddenly are getting way less spam calls/emails, and chalk it up to being lucky
it goes on for months, you have no idea who he is and that you're being stalked. the only inkling you have of anything weird going on is you're having terrific luck lately.
obviously, the luck is a huge war-torn man that can't seem to stop making your life easier
like one day it's raining hard after work, and you have prepared yourself to get soaked on your way to your car.
that is until you see an umbrella leaning against the building, a note with running ink that says "free" on it. talk about right place right time!
or the time your cat gets sick from eating a hair tie and you spend almost all your money on surgeries and medicine. you're starting to worry that you'll be short on rent when a literal child knocks on your door with an envelope full of money saying that he has a youtube channel and chose you randomly to give $5,000 to. what the fuck?
you're still standing motionless in your doorway with a stack of money in your hands when the kid rounds the corner, looking up at simon expectantly. "the lady took the money dude. where's my xbox?"
simon chuckles a little, handing the kid a bag from gamestop with the newest xbox in it. the little kid runs off, yelling thank you as he leaves.
then simon ramps it up a little, starts sneaking in at night to watch you sleep and go through your little trinkets. homeboy just wants to know every little thing there is to know about you
he starts showing up to the place you get coffee, where you grocery shop, etc
you start feeling like you're being watched, start hearing things at night that make you sleep a little lighter.
you figure out you're being stalked a few months later. you had started feeling so off that you began seeing a therapist, worried that some mystery mental illness is starting to creep in.
simon starts noticing that you're not sleeping as well, not smiling as much from the paranoia. so he does the next logical step of leaving you notes of reassurance
the first one is when he's watching you sleep one night, on his way out he trips over your cat who seemingly came out of nowhere. he catches himself on the wall, a dull thud echoing throughout your home.
the next morning you find a note, that simply states "sorry about the noise last night, i tripped on your cat. i'll try to be more quiet next time. yours, s."
you immediately start tweaking out. someone was in your house? and they left a fucking note? apologizing of all things?
then you realize that this has probably been going on for months
for some reason it calms you, you've been living in ignorance all this time and you always knew something was off, at least you knew what it was now
and as far as you knew your stalker hadn't done anything dangerous besides, you know, stalking you
so you stay quiet. mostly because you feel insane but a part of you also worries what would happen if you broke your stalker's routine. would he start becoming violent? would the police even have enough information to stop him?
simon takes that as acceptance and an invitation for more contact. so he starts calling you.
the first time is when you're about to leave for work. you answer with a bright "hello, this is y/n" and almost jump when a deep gravelly voice responds. "hi luv. take backroads to work today, there's an accident on the freeway, it'll probably make you late."
before you can respond you hear the "call ended" tone. you rapidly look around your street, seeing no one out of the ordinary. you say fuck it and take the freeway, not wanting to be lured into a trap or something. lo and behold, you're almost 20 minutes late to work.
the calls stop freaking you out when you realize one night, almost dazed, that whoever this man is actually helping you. like a lot.
just the other day after a girl's night out you had been struggling to find an uber around, cursing when the driver canceled on you after waiting for 15 minutes.
you're already about to cry when a black suv rolls up, a middle-aged man with impressive facial hair popping his head out of the window.
"y/n?" you hesitantly say "yes?" and take a step closer to the car.
"i'm your uber, stupid app canceled while i was on the way here. hop in." he opens his own door, tall frame making his way around to the door closest to you, opening it and waiting.
you're admittedly really drunk. and you realize that this might be a horrible idea, but for some reason the story makes sense, and you find yourself slipping into the back of the man's car.
"temp all right for you luv?" you freeze a little, the pet name feeling familiar somehow. you stay quiet, looking at him through the rearview mirror. he makes eye contact with you and suddenly you're blurting it out before you can stop yourself.
"you're not an uber driver, are you?"
he holds eye contact for a second, surprised when he doesn't see fear in your expression, just desperation for the truth. he sighs deeply and looks back at the road.
"nope" your heart leaps into your throat.
"are you..." you didn't even know what to say. "are you, him?"
price knows what you're asking. when ghost called and asked him to pick you up, he knew he shouldn't. the stupid fuck was stalking you for god's sake. but price has a soft spot for his broken LT.
"no. i'm not him."
"do you know him?"
price hesitates. "yeah. i know 'im."
you're quiet for a few minutes, briefly realizing that you're a few streets away from home. you didn't know what you expected, but actually being dropped off unharmed wasn't it.
price turns down your street and suddenly you have a million questions.
"does he hate me? does he want to hurt me? why me? what does he want?"
price puts the car and park, kind of irritated at ghost for putting him in this position and not being normal and just taking you out on a date.
"he's not gonna hurt you, y/n. he just wants to take care of you, make sure you're safe." you stare at him like he's an alien.
price decides that's all he's going to say and leans over the seat to unbuckle you. "time to get to bed youngin."
you slowly grab your purse, grabbing the car handle. you sit for a second, before turning back to the man. "thank you for the ride. and tell, him, thanks, i guess." you don't wait for a response, just get out of the car and walk up to your house.
you turn around and watch the man pull out of your driveway, speeding down your quiet street. you unlock your front door in a daze, still half expecting to be murdered at any second.
your phone rings and you answer without looking at the screen.
"y/n?" it's him. he had gotten a call from price, recapping his drive home with you and started panicking when price shared that you had clocked him not being an uber driver. he didn't know what else to do but call you and try to explain and not lose you.
"it's you."
"y/n, i-" you cut him off.
"i want to meet you."
simon realizes that he is so fucked.
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groundzerosgirlfriend · 8 months ago
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A/n: Just binge watched all three seasons of Dr. Stone and Senku and Tsukasa can do whatever they want to me! Bark Bakrk woof Awooga!
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Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That revived you in this new stone world with the 'miracle fluid' after gathering a strong enough army, to ensure your safety at all times.
Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That barely wants his right-hand man Hyoga to be around you unless it's absolutely necessary going out of way to forage, fish, and hunt with you.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sits beside you for quality time as you sew and talk his ear off about everything that runs his mind and although he could spend his time elsewhere, where else would he want to be.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That is still as sweet as he was 3,700 years ago instead of carrying your books to school, he carries any prey you caught, any basket of mushrooms, and any firewood (He doesn't want his gorgeous girl working hard, what type of boyfriend would he be).
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That ignores all the other attractive women (much to the disappointment of Minami) in his empire throwing themselves at him much preferring to keep his sights set on you. His one and only.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart breaks as you finally see him firsthand destroy a statue of an older gentleman the crumbled rock around his feet and his gut twisting as your eyes prick the slightest tears.
Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: Who doesn't follow after you when your quick leave his vicinity not wanting to pressure you into talking to him, knowing how empathetic you are about a lot of things (It's one of the things he loves about you, but right now it's biting him in the ass).
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart beats harder than it ever has when comparing it to any of his grueling wrestling matches after a week of silence on your end you sit next to him at the campfire site just leaning your head on his shoulder.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who's about to apologize for slaughtering those statues in front of you and explain his reasoning behind his uncouth action is surprised when you tell him 'You don't mind.'
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who stays quiet with ears open as you express that although you don't like what he's doing, you condone killing innocent people statues or not, but you won't question it or force him to stop knowing it has to be for good reason.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who places his huge hands-on top of yours just giving a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement and thankfulness, because in this moment no words need to be said as the fire crackles in front of you two.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who is now happier than he thinks he's ever been having both you and his newly revived sister free from her dreaded comatose (with the help of Senku) at his side.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who smiles the slightest bit and chuckles softly as he watches from the sidelines you entertain and play with his younger sister grateful that the two of you get along so well and even wondering if one day you would want a family with him. A blend of both of your genes.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sacrifices his life with a spear piercing through his lung at the river side when Hyoga attempts to attack you and Miria. The last thing he sees before he falls into the river is you and Senku reaching out for him in a desperate attempt to catch him.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: After his epic battle with Senku at his side he spends his last minutes alive breathing ragged and hoarse with you and the renowned scientist. His head in your lap and holding each other hands as he chuckles at Senku's attempt at small talk.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That whispers out a barely heard "I love you" but before you can even comprehend it and much less respond his eyes softly close, and his breathing comes to a permanent stop.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who unknowingly has you and his sister by his side the entire time he is in cold sleep. Barely leaving the makeshift refrigerator as you tell him stories and talk his ear off knowing that you won't get a response.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who when he's finally revived and healed from what were once permanent wounds hugs his teary-eyed little sister and looks around the cave space for you inconspicuously knowing you couldn't be far.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who finally spots you in the very back of the group your lip quivering as he cracks the softest of smiles and hold his arms open for you to rush into as you cry and snot all over his bare chest comforting you with the fact that he was alive and well now.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who even though was dead for months on end in that cold refrigerator somehow knew that you were by his side the entire time thanking you for never giving up on him.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who sits with you on the cave floor simply murmuring low sweet nothings in your ear as you cling onto him as if to make sure he's really alive and well, your head pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating once more.
Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who says "Let me say it properly this time, my dear. I love you."
Extra: Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who could most definitely manhandle you like a little ragdoll but refrains from it since you've never expressed interest in such rough treatment. But after he tosses you over his shoulder to carry you out the cave without asking in the heat of the moment and hears your delighted giggle, he'll be sure to bring that up with you.
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ferrstappen · 1 year ago
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max, don't panic l Max Verstappen blurb
a/n: he'd absolutely stop his car bc 1) what's a couple of points for this man? he's going to gain them back while sleeping; 2) this man PROTECTS you cannot tell me otherwise.
also, pls if anyone knows how to turn this blog (sideblog) into the main? my main is full of Shawn Mendes fics and on a permanent hiatus so I'll take any advice pls. anyway... I tried my best bc for some reason driver!reader is not my fav trope? but anyway, hope you enjoy <3
genre: kinda dramatic? angst? idk. request is here.
warnings: car crash.
pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader.
max, don´t panic – max verstappen blurb
The private but not secret applied to you and your boyfriend perfectly. Even if you didn't walk around hand I hand in the paddock, you always arrived together, bright smiles, sometimes riding the same car or blinded SUV, even arriving on the same planes.
This wouldn't be exactly controversial, but giving the fact you both were Formula 1 drivers, Max for Red Bull and you for Ferrari, yeah, it was a big thing. Especially since you and another driver in Williams were the only girls, people's eyes were always on you, obviously laced with criticism, sexism and misogyny, and of course everyone was waiting and constantly asking about which driver was the most handsome, if something had happened between you or any of the male drivers.
It wasn't pretty.
So Charles Leclerc had to miss a triple header due to an injury which costed him a surgery, you were briefly promoted to the Scuderia from Haas. The only thing you or anyone in the garage heard during the last few days was why you, why not Ferrari's own reserve driver? why not a driver with more experience? of course the lacing question was, why not a male driver?
You didn't need the press and public to keep speculating as your last Sunday driving for Ferrari arrived, even if sports sites stated the only reason you were chosen was because of your "especial friendship" with Max Verstappen, because it didn't make any sense otherwise. Of course Max rolled his eyes every time he heard something about it, forcing to bit his tongue to tell someone to fuck off, the fact you had been dating for now nine months had absolutely nothing of your job and performance.
It wouldn't help your case very much, having to calm him down on your shared hotel room. Well, it wasn't exactly shared, you just left you room vacant and made it to Max's to spend the night, sleeping in his warm embrace and messy kisses, trying to not exhaust your bodies in order to not be overly tired during race day.
Now, Sunday. Oh boy.
Before pulling your helmet, you found Max's eyes across the garage, doing a small sign with your fingers which Max matched, a secret language reserved for the both of you, expressing your love and preoccupation in front of everyone who was oblivious to the love language displayed in plain sight.
Then the race started and it was ordinary; good weather, good pace. But during lap twenty something happened.
You didn't really register when an Aston Martin car made contact with your rear wing, making you lose control and also getting hit by a Mercedes on the left side, which sent you flying through the gravel.
Fuck.
Your eyes closed as you felt the car spinning, waiting to make contact with the wall, trying to relax your body and mind, knowing injuries would be even more serious after the impact if her body was limp enough. Then it happened, you stopped rolling, the sound of gravel and tires stopped; radio wasn't working, though it wouldn't really work since you couldn't find your voice.
Max was on other sector, Gianpiero telling him to expect a red flag. At the same time, his eyes fixed on the screen and noticed the unmistakable red car flying and crashing.
Max was a man prepared for anything on the race track. Seriously, you could throw anything at him and Max would remain calm and collected, his body and mind not having to even think before making a move.
But this... this he wasn't prepared for.
"Which Ferrari was that?" Max asked through the radio, voice masking a slight panic.
"I don't have that information, yet. I'll let you know, now focus on slowing down, please, red flag red flag,"
"Is the driver okay?" Max completely ignored the other instructions given to him.
"No word, Max. Please," GP was cut off.
"Please tell me who's Ferrari is it!"
"Sainz was on the pit, it's (Y/N)'s Ferrari. Max, you can't speed up,"
Max ignored him. Of course, he knew better than to get in the way of the safety car and medical cars rushing, also noticing a green figure trying to get closer to the car, also noting a Mercedes and Aston with damages.
"Max, come to the pit, please," GP had many many experiences dealing with Max, but this was new. "Max, you are not going to help, you will only obstruct and put the car and yourself in danger,"
Max was covered in chills, watching the wrecked Ferrari, trapped against the wall, no movement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is completely unheard of. This is by far the worst accident during this season, but Red bull's Max Verstappen drove his car towards the crash, ignoring the red flag and his engineer. We don't now what's going on, how is the driver, as you can see it's a mess," That's what the audience was hearing and watching.
Ignoring everything, Max prompted himself up, leaving the car and reaching the medical car, trying to get someone to connect him to the Ferrari radio, knowing her radio was probably dead.
Time stopped, and then he saw you being carried, barely conscious but giving a thumbs up, and he felt like he could collapse and cry and laugh, all at the same time.
"I'm riding with her," Max stepped inside the ambulance, knowing pictures were being captured and broadcasted of him kissing your temple and holding your hand.
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maybanksbabe · 1 year ago
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𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋 | 𝐑. 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you'd assumed for the last 6 months that he'd lived nextdoor that your neighbour was just a very popular man with no end of female admirers spending the night at his place. Until a late night mark of desperation leads you to finding a very familiar face on your favoured XXX site...
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): pornstar!Rafe Cameron, language, mentions of and descriptions of sex and sexual content, *gasp* and they were neighbours!, Descriptions of masturbation (m + f), watching porn, oral (f) there's a lot going on lmao, if I missed anything lmk!
𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: sex; cheat codes - church; chase atlantic - go fuck yourself; two feet
𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 - 𝙸 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺
It started on a weekend, about three weeks after Rafe Cameron had moved in next door in your apartment complex. The walls were just torturously thin enough that any time he had a... Lady friend over, you could hear every obnoxious, high-pitched moan he could get out of her. Whoever she was every other night. Sometimes in the morning, you'd see various sorry states leaving his apartment; smudged makeup, shoes in hands and a slight wobble in their step.
He seemed nice enough when you bumped into each other at the mail collection or laundry room. A stunning smile and a God-given body. With it being late July he found any excuse to walk around shirtless. Not that you really minded. There was no indication of what he did for work; you'd never seen him in any uniform or office attire and there was nothing else that pointed to any kind of obvious profession, keeping you guessing.
Then, on the hottest summer night so far, you found yourself unable to sleep, tossing and turning beneath tangled sheets that did nothing but make you more uncomfortable. And then you noticed the faint knocking next door and distinctly female moans.
Did he ever fucking stop?!
You could hear a backing of male moans too, but nothing more than faint grunts and moans that were almost drowned out by whichever woman he was pressing into the mattress. And yet, instead of being faced with disgust, there was a spark of something else. Jealousy? Perhaps. It made your stomach twist and between your thighs began to ache.
Instead of being vindictive and giving the wall above your head a few sharp pounds with your fist, you decided to be courteous. After all, you have no other reason not to get along with him. Disgruntled, you kicked your sheets off and grabbed your keys before moving out of your apartment to the corridor, taking five steps to the right and knocking on Rafe's door.
The moaning stopped and seconds later the door opened, revealing, much to your bewilderment, Rafe in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His chest, neck, cheeks and ears were flush with a rosy burnish and a delicate gold chain rested against his collarbones.
"Hi -"
"Is this about the noise?" He was slightly breathless as he tried to fill the space between the half-open door and the door frame.
"Yeah, sorry I'm just a really light sleeper and I've got a busy day tomorrow -"
"Don't worry about it, we're almost wrapped up here. Just give us ten more minutes and I promise you won't hear from us again tonight," he replied with a coy smile. Something about his demeanour made you melt a little inside. His eyes are heavy as they travel up and down your body, taking in your choice of sleepwear and your sleep-deprived state.
"Tom and Jerry, huh?" At a glance, you saw that he was referring to your pyjamas. Heat crawled up your neck and cheeks.
"Don't be an ass. Just - please keep the noise down, yeah?" He held a hand up in surrender, a boyish grin on his lips.
"Alright, alright. Promise. Enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart."
Not as much as you will, it seems.
At that, you retreated to the stuffy air of your apartment, soon after the lurid sounds continued, accompanied by the percussion of the headboard against the wall. But true to his word, ten minutes later it fell silent and the distant sound of a door shutting set your mind at ease.
A week later, if that, a barrage of more late nights listening to Rafe's conquests drew you to a final, desperate measure. Opening an incognito window on your phone's browser you went straight to your favourite porn site. If he could have fun at all hours, so help you God you could too. The noise from next door made you wonder what they were doing; doggy, reverse cowgirl, some kind of bondage perhaps? He certainly seemed like the type.
Surfing the categories for a few minutes gave you a spark of inspiration to go looking for a specific type of video. And the first account to come up in the results had you intrigued from the jump. You selected the most recent video, put your headphones in and pushed your free hand into your sleep shorts. Though as your fingers began to dip and delve between your folds and around your clit, a familiar voice in your ear made you stop.
"- fuck yeah, so fuckin' tight -" Wide-eyed you turned your attention to your phone screen. You knew that voice. You'd spoken to that voice in the laundry room on multiple occasions. And as your eyes adjusted to the brightness of your screen in the dark you saw it. That chain. Those abs. That jawline.
"Oh, my god..." Solo fun forgot about, you sat up and began scouring the page. There were dozens of videos. Some by himself, some with co-stars (both female and male), and others with more than one co-star. Regardless of the content of the videos you selected and skipped through, he looked good. No, he looked hot.
The video you were currently on, you couldn't bare to skip through or speed up, too transfixed on what Rafe was doing. Lay on a pristinely made bed, beneath a beautiful brunette woman who was currently sat on his face. Then it all made sense. The constant noise, the late nights and the never-ending line of people leaving his apartment. And why you could never figure out what he did for a living.
Your neighbour was a pornstar.
Your insanely hot, surprisingly nice neighbour was a very popular pornstar based on the subscriber count under his profile name.
But now felt compelled to watch more. To see more and get to know him. It was wrong but you didn't have many other options given how he normally reduced to you a blushing mess anyway. So up you stayed for another few hours, scrolling through the countless videos that caught your interest.
Your favourite one so far had been a video from a month or two ago, Rafe was on the sofa, the camera set up on the coffee table and his legs spread just wide enough in the grey sweats that you could see most of him before he'd even stripped down. He used a vibrating cockring to get himself off. The string of delightfully sinful noises came from him as he fucked his hand and used the ring on the most intense pattern had you clenching your thighs and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
Another week rolled on and you delved deeper into Rafe's content, using it selfishly to get off to your burning needs when every morning you'd exchange a polite smile and greeting when you both happened to be collecting your mail at the same time. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose. Or he was. You hadn't been particularly reserved in your late-night self-indulgence and there's more than a chance that he's heard you on more than one occasion.
How you found yourself standing in front of his door on a Thursday evening you're not sure, but you had to say something. It had been quiet for a couple of days next door. So you knocked and waited patiently. Moments later the door swung open. Rafe greeted you with his signature coy smirk, a bowl of cereal balanced in one ring-clad hand, and the other resting on the door.
"Hey, what brings you here?"
"I - I need to talk to you..." you forced out whilst wringing your fingers together.
"Oh? Sure, come in." Rafe stepped aside and propped the door open with his foot to let you in. You found it incredibly difficult not to ogle him as you stepped around him, sweatpants slung low on his hips and a shirt nowhere to be seen. He'd definitely been soaking up the Summer sun too, now more tan than when he first moved in and there was a faint spray of freckles across his back and shoulders, obviously brought out by the extra sunshine.
"What's the problem?" He leaned up against the nearest counter as you both came to a stop in the kitchen.
"No... No problem. I don't think. Look, Rafe, you seem like a really nice guy -"
"Oh, God I don't like where this is going -"
"No! No, it's not bad but... I found you." Rafe set the now empty bowl into the sink and turned back to face you.
"Found me?"
"Don't make me say it," you pleaded, face already hot with embarrassment. That cocky demeanour started to take effect and with the way he looked, standing there half naked so casually had you struggling to find the words.
"Online. Okay? I happened upon your online profile and -" His laughter cut you off and the panic and embarrassment subsided momentarily.
"Don't be embarrassed, everyone watches porn," he stated with a shrug and stepped towards you, caging you in against the counter. It took all your willpower not to drop to your knees then and there.
"I just - just didn't want things to be awkward. Thought you might want to know... We're still just neighbours, okay?"
"Sure. Y'know I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out..." Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in. The scent of him was dizzying and you did the unthinkable. You kissed him. It transpired into a series of messy kisses, and obscene actions with tongues and teeth pressing and clashing.
A surprised gasp against Rafe's sinfully pink lips escaped you as he hoisted you onto the counter, large, hot hands on your waist, keeping you flush with him. Kissing Rafe was something you couldn't explain, it was a hungry, demanding exchange with languid tongues rendering you breathless.
"M' a big fan of your work," you confessed with a hot sigh against his parted lips, trying your hardest not to moan when he made contact with the column of your throat and his one hand made his way between your parted thighs.
"Yeah?" You made a noise of agreement but yelped when he tugged your soft cotton shorts down your legs, exposing your ass and the backs of your thighs to the cool surface beneath you.
"Don't - don't feel like you have to -" you panted, cut off by an unintentional moan as his fingers pressed against your underwear, adding a delicious kind of pressure against your aching clit. Your hand found his wrist, holding him there for a moment whilst his fingers teased you relentlessly.
"And what if I want to? Like I haven't spent the past couple of weeks listening to you play with yourself late at night when you think no one can hear you." His remark had you clenching around nothing,
"I -"
"You think I couldn't hear you? Watching my videos and moaning for me?" He kissed a line down your neck and bunched your t-shirt up so he could remove your panties, dropping them to one side. In your hazy state, you couldn't stop him from kneeling down in front of your bare cunt before he leaned in, making contact with an open mouth against your now-exposed clit.
"Fuck, Rafe -" you whimpered with a shaky breath as he used his mouth to get you off, suctioning around your clit with expert skill, his tongue adding just enough pressure and friction to have you dizzy already.
"Tell me all about it, sweets." You couldn't be sure if he was good at this because it was part of his job or if he was just that good, but in a matter of minutes, you were reduced to a whining, squirming mess on his kitchen counter, unable to form a coherent sentence. The pressure of a finger being added to your aching, wet cunt had you moaning even louder.
"Gonna cum for me? Hm? Wanna make a mess on my face?" All you could do in reply was moan. Unashamed and unhindered by the fact that any of the surrounding units might be able to hear you and that you were currently on your neighbour's kitchen counter being eaten out within an inch of your life by the aforementioned neighbour.
Practically grinding on his face, everything came to a dizzying peak. Eyes screwed shut, back arched off of the counter and your thighs trembling from their position over his shoulders, you came with a loud cry - a plea almost for the pleasure to last -
"That was hot," Rafe commented with a drawl as he eventually managed to free himself from between your previously tensed thighs. He made a point to stand up and offer the two fingers that had just been inside you. Some deep part of your subconscious didn't even hesitate to accept them in your mouth to clean them off.
"Good girl," he cooed with a wolfish grin.
-/-/-
@veescorneroftheworld @drewphyy @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @outerbankies
Just tagging a few who might be interested! Let me know if you want to be removed 🧡
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ihavethedreamies · 4 months ago
Text
Oh, Baby-Girl | Bang Chan
Bang Chan - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.5k
Pairing: Bang Chan x Tall!AFAB!Reader
Genre: Mafia AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Mentions of Guns (Mob/Mafia type stuff), Bodyguard! Chan, Mob Boss Daughter! Reader, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! & M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Spanking, Daddy Kink (it is Bang Chan after all), Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended), Big Dick! Chan
Author's Note: Oh no, what is this? I couldn't have possibly wrote this since I am working so diligently on packing. Well, as long as it's here…
There is just something about the choreography for Chk Chk Boom that did something to me, I'm sure many of you agree.
P.S. If you haven't read my stuff before, or much of it, you might not notice, but the rest of you have probably figured out I got a bit of a face-fucking fascination. Thanks for getting to know me.
I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!
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Being a mob boss’s wife isn’t nearly as fun and glamorous as the movies and shows (and TikTok) make it out to be. However, being the mob boss's daughter? A bit of a different story. You were protected from the violence and crime, but still got to reap the rewards. Fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, a nice car, and a bodyguard as well. Despite never being able to see him, you knew you were well protected as you walked down the streets of New York, spending all of your papa's corrupt money. A few designer shopping bags hung in the crook of your elbow over your cropped jacket, fur lining the ends of the sleeves and lapels. Faux of course, you might be the daughter of a criminal, but you weren't a monster. The thin heels of your over-the-knee (also faux) leather boots clicked on the sidewalk as you tapped away on your phone with your thumb. People moved out of your way as you walked, you just had the aura of 'fuck around and find out'. The gum in your mouth smacked as you chewed, sneering at a child who didn't move out of the way fast enough. Your eye roll was hidden behind your Versace sunglasses, but your down-turned lip covered in dark red lipstick was still obvious. Your stiletto acrylic nails were the same dark red and clicked against your phone as you scrolled through your search results. Despite how you looked and dressed, you still preferred to shop sales. That gave you more bang for your buck, since your father did limit your money some. As you passed an overly full trash can, you plucked the gum from your mouth and onto the pile. It had lost all its flavor… Approaching the next store, you were about to enter when you suddenly felt something instinctual rise up in you. You halted, people scurrying around you still, and with your natural height paired with six-inch pumps, you still stood a head above a lot of the passersby. You felt vulnerable for some reason and huffed in frustration, shoving the door open to the boutique you had stopped in front of. It wasn't your original destination, but you instantly felt safer being inside. It wasn't anywhere close to the first time your ingrained sense of danger had kicked in, and it wouldn't be the last. You know there was at least one bodyguard tailing you even if you never saw him, but that didn't mean the shelter of a store wasn't welcome.
"Welcome." One of the employees calling out snapped you out of your trance, having been looking out the window at the street. You turned and gave her a forced smile and removed your sunglasses. Deciding to look around while you were in the shop, you admired some of the items, but none of them were up to your standard, but that lingering feeling…lingered. Picking up a pair of shoes to look over, you looked out the window more, trying to see if you could pick out anyone lurking outside. Nope. Pressing your lips together, you sighed and moved to leave. Stepping back onto the street, you looked around again, trying to be subtle, almost like you were looking for a cab. Still not seeing anything that stuck out, you moved on and toward your actual destination. You were hit with an even greater sense of doom as you heard the screech of car tires in the distance and you spun around to see a black SUV hurdling down the street, unusually empty for New York. Like it was in slow motion, as the vehicle approached, the window rolled down and a gloved hand stuck out, a Glock in his hand.
"Shit!" You moved to duck behind a parked sedan, and you yelped when your heel snapped as you dove for cover. Your ankle twisted and your tights ripped, but you got behind the vehicle as you heard the gunshots. People around you screamed, and you scrambled to hit the emergency button on your phone, but… It was shattered. It must have hit the sidewalk harder than you did.
"Fuck!" You shoved the device into your purse, and you watched as people ran and screamed. Getting up just enough to peer through the blown-out window of the car you hid behind, your ankle protested, and you fell back down, catching yourself with your hand.
"Did you get her?" You heard a gruff voice shout followed by, "No!" Then, through the running pedestrians, a huge man appeared, a gun in his hand. He was right down the sidewalk, and you were right in view. Before you even had the chance to pray, a figure stepped between you and the assailant. You couldn't see since he was in your way, but you heard his gun go off and watched the goon fall from between the legs of your savior. He had to have been the bodyguard that your father told you was constantly at your tail. The man groaned and cursed, the same SUV coming to help haul him away, clutching as his knee. Sirens grew closer and you tried to get up, pushing on your scraped hand. You winced again, at least three of your nails on that hand were broken, a fourth cracked, and your heel was ruined. It would have been way too awkward to try and stand with just one pump, so you took off your other one.
"Here." The man who saved you had an accent, you couldn't quite place it in the moment. His leather-gloved hands grabbed your forearms and he more or less yanked you up. When you stood before him, he was…short. About an inch or two shorter than you…with your heels off. He was also really fucking hot. It was clear he was a bit shocked at the height difference as well since he had never been so close to you. Was he the guy always guarding you? You guessed it didn't matter if he was shorter if he was protecting you from afar. He shoved his pistol in the back of his pants, and you watched his white t-shirt struggle across his muscular chest as he did so.
"You okay, love?" Australian, it was definitely an Australian accent. And it was also really fucking hot.
"Y-Yes." You finally answered and you jerked to grab your bags, but he was grabbing them along with your purse before you could get close.
"Can you walk?" He nodded at your bare feet, and you stood on one of them, rolling your twisted ankle to test it. Putting weight back on it, "I can manage." He then started to lead you into the nearest alley as the police cruisers grew closer. At least you had stockings on as you meandered through the not exactly clean back alleys, and he finally brought you to another big black SUV parked behind some bakery.
"Here." He opened the passenger door, and you climbed in as he threw your bags in the back. You sat, shaking still as he climbed into the driver's seat.
"Sh-should I be up front?" Your voice was also shaking still, and he started the vehicle.
"The windows are tinted, but we'll be quick."
"Quick? Where are we going?" Your father's building was a good twenty minutes away, let alone the house on the outskirts of the city.
"Closest place is mine."
"Y-you are my bodyguard, right?" You just realized that even though he saved you, that didn't mean it was his job. The man huffed and wrangled his leather jacket off, tossing it in the back as well. The clean lines of your father's crest were tattooed into his bicep, and you slumped in the seat.
"What's your name?"
"Chan."
"Just Chan?"
"Yep." It seemed he had been waiting for you to buckle up, because he reached around you to grab the still unfastened belt, doing it for you. He smelled really fucking good too and your head swam. The spike of adrenaline seemed to get all parts of your body worked up, but you forced the wave of arousal down. It was not the time nor place for any of that. The ride to his place was quiet, thankfully, because if he talked more, you would be a goner. Trying not to be obvious, you would look to the side to stare at him. His side profile was immaculate, strong nose and jaw line, full lips.
"So…are you…?" You didn't know how to word your question without sounding rude.
"Korean." He knew where you were going, and you let out a small 'ah' of understanding. Your father didn't get along with the Yakuza nor the Chinese mafia, so Korean made sense. Korean-Australian at that…right?
"Australia?" You wanted to make sure, not great at picking out the different British-origin accents.
"Yep."
"Am I annoying you?" He sagged at your question and shook his head.
"No, love, just trying to keep an eye out." He pointedly looked in the rear-view mirror and you let out a quiet apology. The silence made since then.
"Put your sunglasses on." Chan nodded at the item in your hand, and you did so, pointedly looking out the window as he pulled up to the security gate of his building's parking garage. Getting in without any comments from the guard, he parked in what you assumed was his designated spot. The guard got out and opened your door for you, giving you his hand for assistance. You grunted when you landed wrong on your still upset angle and he caught you, making your chest press to his.
"S-sorry." You flinched back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and he smiled gently.
"It's okay, Miss (Y/N)." Fuck, if you're already attracted to a guy with an accent, don't EVER let him say your name. As he was out of view to get your bags you mouthed an exaggerated 'oh my god' and quickly shut your mouth when he shut the back door. He led you toward the entrance door for the building, staying slow to accommodate your slight limp. Getting in the elevator, you still kept your sunglasses on just in case, though the building seemed pretty secure. That didn't mean the security watching the cameras were always completely trustworthy though. Enough money can convince most people of anything. You exhaled tiredly as you stopped by his door and Chan pressed the code into the number pad and it pinged. He held the front door open for you and you entered, hobbling down the entry hall. It was a nice place and you wondered how much your father paid him to watch you nearly 24/7. Or…
"So, are you my guard a lot?"
"During the day." So, yes.
"How long?"
"Hm…about three years."
"Ah." That was a pretty long time. So, he probably knew a lot about you, and you had never seen him before in your life.
"Oh! I need to call papa…" You rummaged through your purse that he had set on the coffee table. As you sat on the couch, you then remembered that your phone was broken.
"I'll handle it, love." Chan set your shopping bags and your shoes down as well and you had totally forgotten about your heels. When did he grab them too?
"I need to call a few others as well, if you want something to eat you can rummage through the kitchen." He nodded toward the other room behind where you sat and you nodded as he went down the other hallway, deeper into the apartment. You took the chance to look around and you wondered if he was ever there. Well, if he watched you all day for three years, he probably wasn't. The decoration was simple, almost like it was a hotel room rather than a living space, but it was nice. Maybe his bedroom was more personal? Hearing his muffled voice from further in, you stood and meandered to the kitchen like he suggested. Opening the fridge, there was more than you expected since the rest of the apartment was barren. Nothing stuck out though, but you noticed an object was in the oven despite it being off. You knew exactly what it was. Opening the oven, you grabbed the pizza box and opened it as your mouth watered. You weren't sure if the pizza was your favorite because you had it all the time (it was a front for your father's shenanigans) or if you genuinely liked it. Holding the day-old slice, you chewed absentmindedly, snooping through the rest of Chan's kitchen. He had a little wine display on the counter, and you pulled one of the bottles out to look at the label. You snorted, of course he had your family's vintage. Maybe he got a discount? At least you knew you liked it. Holding the slice in your mouth as you reached for a wine glass in the cupboard, you had to get on your tip toes to reach one. Could he normally reach them? There was dust on the glass, and you pondered if he ever used them.
"Sorry I don't use those glasses often." His voice startled you, but you kept a firm grip on the glass then set it down.
"That's fine… Do you just…drink from it?" You easily and expertly pulled the cork out with your bare hands since it was sticking out enough and he blinked at the ease with which you did so. Just because you were the daughter of a mob boss and didn't fight yourself, didn't mean you weren't strong. Your father made sure if it came to it, you could punch a guy's teeth out just as well as any bodyguard. That didn't help with guns, mind you.
"Uh, no," he huffed an airy laugh, it was actually kind of cute, "I just use a normal glass." He went to the cupboard next to the one you had been in and grabbed a square-shaped cup that looked like it was more for whiskey than wine.
"Are you doing okay, love?" He leaned against the counter as you poured yourself a glass after giving him some.
"I guess. My ankle kind of hurts still." You easily balanced on one leg, lifting the other foot to roll the joint around, testing its pain level.
"Just because I've never met you face to face doesn't mean I don't know you. Are you okay?" He pressed and you flinched to look at him. It wasn't…creepy perse, just, odd. You sighed, taking a sip, your hand still shaking a bit.
"Y-yeah. I mean, I've been around guns and stuff, but… I myself have never been shot at, you know?"
"I do, actually." He smiled cheekily and you sighed in mock annoyance.
"Well, it’s a little unfair that you seem to know me so well and I have no knowledge of you." You walked around the island and back toward the living room, sitting in relief on the couch. You crossed your leg over the other, injured ankle dangling in the air. Chan sat down next to you, leg up on the cushion so he could face you, toned arm resting on the back of the sofa. You felt his eyes linger on your tight-clad legs, your leather short-shorts showing most of your thighs. His gaze stopped at the tear in the supposedly tear-proof pantyhose, then snapped his head up like he just got startled awake. The man knew you knew he was ogling your legs and the tips of ears turned red as he cleared his throat. How was such a handsome man so cute?
"What do you want to know?"
"How did you get to be my bodyguard?"
"I had no mafia ties before. I guess that was a good thing. I was more or less scouted to be a bodyguard when I was a bouncer at some penthouse night club. It seems some of your dad's guys saw I was good, and I got offered way more money than any other job. They doubled it when I took the spot as your personal bodyguard."
"I see. Where did you learn to shoot so well?"
"I started at the shooting range when I was in college with my friends. I got better through work and your father made sure I was an expert before he put his baby girl's life in my hands."
"Hm, you obviously don't know me that well." You picked on a very small detail, wondering if he would know what it was.
"Hm, not his baby girl, his little kitten."
"Oh, maybe you do know me well then?"
"Quiz me, baby-girl." The way he said it was so different than two seconds prior. His tone deepened with it and a smug look settled casually on his face. You couldn't help but watch his throat move as he swallowed a sip of wine and you took a sip yourself, then set the glass down.
"What is my favorite color?"
"Red. Something else."
"Brand?"
"Prada. Something real (Y/N)." Chan leaned further into the cushion. You were right at eye level, and you wondered…
"Does it bother you I'm taller?" You changed the subject so fast he nearly got whiplash. You genuinely were curious. You were tall for a woman anyway, let alone when you did wear heels, and some guys didn't care for it.
"Height doesn't play into what matters, baby-girl." His slightly cryptic answer intrigued you, but you moved back to the previous topic.
"What's my favorite book and why?" He sighed, huffing a laugh at your shift back.
"You tell people it's 1984 because of the psychological implications behind it, but your favorite is actually Dragon Rider because it got you into fantasy. You read it eight times in elementary school, and you have a signed copy." Chan grinned at your bewildered expression. Once again, in any other situation that would be creepy as hell that he knew, but three years of observation would key him in.
"Okay, smart guy," you picked your glass back up, slinging your legs up under you on the couch, facing him.
"Why do I currently not have a boyfriend?" That was something you couldn't just say, it had to be observed.
"You hate romance. Flowers, chocolates, a fancy meal. You hate it, but because you like fancy clothes and jewelry, men think you lean that way. You'd prefer a movie date at home or going horseback riding." Shit, that was a little creepy. More so that he knew you so well, it was like he could see into your head, that kind of creepy. Not that he was a creep. Chan nearly cackled as he giggled at your bewildered expression, and you whined. Why was he that cute?
"Why are you that cute?" You accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud and you immediately froze, since he did too.
"I'm cute?" He managed to get out after you both sputtered for a few seconds.
"W-well, I mean-"
"I'm cute?" The simple inflection change completely shifted the meaning of his question.
"You think I'm cute?" You whispered and he set his own glass down, then took yours so he could do the same. He shifted down the cushion, so his knee touched yours. Chan leaned in and you clenched your jaw to remain strong. Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him.
"Baby-girl, if I didn't do you really think I would still be watching you ten hours a day, every day?" Oh. That was a good point. Chan crooked a brow, waiting for an answer or something, don't kiss him.
"You want to kiss me that bad?" he finally asked, and you jolted back, eyes leaving his mouth and shooting up to his eyes.
"What?! No?" Your voice cracked and he pressed his pretty lips together, so he didn't laugh at you.
"So, you don't want me to?"
"I never said that-" He caught you. Literally. You had tried to reel back so you could get off the couch, but his hand grabbed your wrist. It was gentle, but tight enough that he could yank you back to him, and he swallowed the squeak he pulled out of you. Your body melted, all the tension from the earlier attack as well as the sexual kind that had been quickly taking your body over, left. The kiss grew from a low heat to a full inferno rapidly. Your jacket was shed, then your necklaces and bracelets, and as his tongue crept into your mouth, you clawed at his shirt. Your fingers unevenly scratched at his skin through the fabric since about half of them were broken. You both panted when he pulled back. He slightly shoved you down so your back hit the cushion and he sat up more on his knees and you watched with glee as his shirt came off. Fucking hell, he was perfect.
"Oh my god." You gasped and his smug grin twitched briefly in bashfulness, but he composed himself.
"Let me see you, baby-girl." He easily held himself up over you as his body nestled above yours, his strong jean-clad thigh jammed between your mostly bare legs. He kissed you again as his fingers easily plucked the buttons of your shirt open and he pulled you up by the shirt. As you sat up, you yanked the shirt out of where it was tucked into your shorts and then tossed it away before falling back. The micro-fiber was a much nicer feeling than what could have been cold leather. You shivered when his calloused hands ran over the smooth and soft skin of your sides and tummy. His nose ran over your collar bone, and he nuzzled the swell of your breasts where they sat in your plain nude bra. If you knew you were going to get fucked that night, you would have worn something much sexier.
"Don't worry, it's coming off anyway." It was like he could read your mind and you yiped in shock as he unfastened the front latch so quickly it was like he did it telepathically.
"You wear them with a front latch because you can't reach around your back from when you hurt your shoulder in middle school." He really did know you well. You just blinked but then Chan forced a mewl from you as his strong thigh pressed hard into your covered mound.
"Focus, baby-girl." His voice had lowered even further, and it made you shiver. Strong hands gripped your ass over your shorts, pulling your hips to grind on his leg as his mouth met yours again. You whimpered through the kiss, goosebumps raising on your skin as the button of your shorts easily slipped open, the zipper was pulled down, and then your pants were soaring through the air somewhere you cared not.
"These are already torn…" He justified as he grabbed the hem of your pantyhose and easily ripped them to literal shreds. Chan let the remnants fall to the floor and you felt your slick through your panties against your bare thighs. At least your panties were a cute lacey purple and not just plain nude.
"You're absolutely stunning." He praised, hand running up your thigh so he could hitch it against his hip. Chan rolled his hips, and you squealed at the large bulge in his pants pressing to your barely covered cunt. If he felt that big through jeans, what the hell was he hiding? He chuckled where your hips jumped to get another brush of friction, reaching into his back pocket. As he pulled the foil package from his pants you snatched it from him.
"Planning this?" You tried to tease him, but his gaze darkened.
"Oh, baby-girl, I've wanted to fuck you for two years now." The man declared. You turned the packet over to look at the label, making a mental note at the size, then you looked at him coyly.
"You clean?"
"Yes?"
"Good." You tossed it behind your shoulder, then grabbed his belt loop, pulling him to you as you sat up. You smirked up at him, head tipped back so you could look him in the eye.
"Can you really feel me like you want through a rubber?" He swallowed hard, all that confidence from before seemingly to leave, then rushed back.
"Not even fucking close." He admitted, pushing you back down and starting to lay open mouth kisses against your neck. He sucked hard, his teeth nibbling the flesh and you shuddered with a delighted whine.
"We can put my pill to the test." You teased and he groaned, kissing down your chest. His mouth sealed over your nipple as he wrestled his jeans off and you exhaled in bliss as his fingers rubbed at your folds through the fabric still covering them.
"You care about these?" He snapped the hem of the undergarment. You did, but you really wanted to watch him tear them up more.
"Nope." You popped the 'p' and the lace ripped and joined your other items of clothing somewhere behind him. You yelped when his hands grabbed your waist and shoved you up the sectional, so he had room to lay on his stomach. Before you got the chance to prop yourself up on your elbows, his tongue ran up the folds of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit.
"Fuck!" You tossed your head back, body twitching as he decided to bury his tongue inside you. He groaned at your taste, hands roughly grabbing the backs of your thighs. He rolled you back, holding your legs apart and up as he mouthed at you like a man starved. Your little mewls and squeaks flew out between heaving breaths, and you felt his grip tighten, knowing he would leave bruises. When he let go of your left leg, he made sure you rested it on the back of the couch, and then his finger pressed into your twitching cunt.
"You’re drippin’." He chuckled, then added another finger and your whole body seized. Expertly, he crooked his fingers up, the ends pressing against your cervix and with a final lick to your clit, you came. He eagerly helped you ride out your high, then cleaned his fingers off with his tongue as you panted for air. Your forearm was slung over your eyes as you came back to earth, and you only moved your arm to watch as he removed his final garment. You hadn't even got a chance to look at him in just his boxers, but there he stood in absolute glory. His cock stood proud, arching up toward his toned stomach and you heaved yourself up so you could see him better.
"Oh~" You giggled, wrapping your fingers around his cock and he groaned at the feeling. You bit your lip, eyes meeting his giddily, then you swallowed the tip, whining at salt of his pre.
"(Y/N), baby-girl~" He tossed his head back as you took more of him into your mouth. He was thick, your jaw protesting a bit, and you still had a good few inches to go when the head hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flicked to his again, and you made sure to watch his face and you kept going, only gagging slightly as your nose pressed to his groin.
"Oh, fuck." He nearly whimpered, hands gripping your hair, then loosened his grip. He groaned as you bobbed your head, breath harshly moving through your nose as his cock filled and left your throat. His hips jumped and the sudden movement made you gag a bit harder, but it made your cunt clench as well.
"Shit, sorry!" He panicked, but you pulled off slowly, giving him your best boba eyes.
"Wanna keep going?" You hoped your intention was clear and he didn't even hesitate. The hands still in your hair pulled you back onto his cock and you sat like a good girl as the fat head of Chan's dick battered your throat. Your eyes rolled back, loving not just his rough movements, but the pretty noises leaving his mouth.
"Hm, you want me to cum down your throat, baby-girl?" Chan's hips jerked unevenly, and you could feel his dick pulse on your tongue. You hummed and nearly wiggled with glee as he pressed your nose hard against his lower stomach and painted your throat white. You eagerly swallowed each pump and drop, and he mumbled something about wondering why he waited so long to have you. Only half-softened, he pulled out of your mouth, and you licked the rest off his release of your lips. You didn't even get the chance to give him a smug grin before you were flipped over onto your stomach, and he heaved your hips up.
"Tell me if I do something wrong." His comment seemed odd, but it seemed he really did know you well. You gasped a moan as his hand smacked your ass, the skin stinging, and he could see your empty cunt clench around nothing.
"You want daddy's cock?" His thumb ran through the slick of your folds, and you trembled. There was a very specific reason you only called your father 'papa'. You only wished you had found Chan sooner to actually put it into practice.
"Fuck, yes, daddy!" You squealed in joy, hiccupping when his other hand slapped your other ass cheek.
"Get ready, then baby-girl." You were ready mentally, but your pussy wasn't. Your cunt burned as he buried his fat cock into you with one thrust. You reveled in the sting, craved it, and your already tight walls clenched around him hard. Even if he wasn't fucking you from behind, you were sure he was long enough to fill you completely, the tip nestled tight against your cervix.
"Fucking hell." You sighed, nails digging into the thick fabric of the couch. He let you get used to the stretch, but you just wanted him to move, you were even getting antsy.
"Move, please." Your wiggled were stopped with a hard spank. You yelped.
"Daddy, please." You corrected and he ran his thumb over the reddening skin.
"Sure thing, love." Your cunt tried desperately to keep his cock inside, and a few drops of your wet landed on the couch. Your breath left you when his hips snapped, fucking back into you hard and fast, his pace not letting you catch it back. He loved the little mewls and grunts he was literally fucking out of you. Your cheek was pressed to the cushion, drool already pooling from the corner of your mouth. He had waited too long to take you, he decided, and he was going to make up for the lost time.
"Ch-chan, fuck!" Your orgasm was cresting fast, a familiar burn rising with your orgasm. Spank!
"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna-" Your breath shuddered as your orgasm hit and he slowed his pace some, grinding his cock into you as your pussy spasmed.
"Oh, baby-girl~!" He groaned as your cunt squirted even more slick onto his groin and balls, even both of your thighs. You slumped after what seemed like minutes and heaved for air, but he wasn't anywhere close to done. Your near scream as he started to pummel his hips against your ass again went straight to his head. He leaned over you, hands near your shoulders. Normally, he was used to leaning over a girl quite a bit, but his hands fell to the sides of your shoulders rather than your head, your body just as long as his, legs even longer. Despite the small height difference (in your favor), you felt small under him, he had broad shoulders and thick muscles, and an even thicker cock. The hard and deep thrusts turned shallow, his dick barely leaving your cunt but battering it at the same time, bringing you up to and over another orgasm fast.
"So deep, daddy~" You nearly cheered, and he found your weakness. He pressed his hips into yours, barely moving them and you gasped, a fourth orgasm already approaching. He felt your walls clench harder and you felt your pussy start to sting, but you needed to fall apart again. It was too much for him then, your raw heat and gummy walls begging him to pump you full.
"Gotta test that pill." He mumbled, then groaned as he finally fell over as well. The sticky heat of his cum filling you, so much it spurted out from around where your bodies met, pushed you over the edge as well. Your head swam from the force of your final orgasm, stars dotting your vision. As he panted for air over you, he watched your eyes flutter; you were wiped out.
"I'll let you sleep over, baby-girl. Gotta rest for when I fuck you stupid tomorrow morning."
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familyvideostevie · 1 year ago
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a kind of hunger | chapter 1
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joel miller x fem!reader
series masterlist
joel miller walks into your life just as it starts to fall apart. surely some hot nights with the bar's newest regular can't hurt, right?
length: 9.2k
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, slightly painful sex, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, joel is a liiiiiiiitle mean if you squint, general feelings of loneliness and angst from r in her free time
a/n: huge thank you to @strangerfreaks without whom this would never have gotten off the ground. also to all the joel writers on this site, i love you, i am in awe of you. please allow me to give it a go myself <3
navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀
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The first time you sleep with Joel Miller you know it won't be the last. 
But that's not where this story starts. 
It starts in a bar. Nothing special about it, really. Staffed half by college kids who come and go, half by drifters who, for some reason, stopped drifting once they found this dimly lit, sticky-floored hole in the wall. Not quite a local institution but not forgettable, never totally empty. It's got pool tables and a jukebox but also clean bathrooms aside from the graffiti and two new-ish TVs showing whatever the first guy who gets there wants to watch.
Point is, you work there. One of those drifters who stopped drifting. The guy who owns it, some crotchety old fuck called Bill, rents you the apartment above the bar for a decent price considering it's loud until 2am on the weekends and midnight all the other days. Loud enough that even on nights you don't work it feels like you're there anyway. But you get used to it. It's called Frank's, which you don't totally understand, but you're not about to ask questions of the guy who has finally allowed you to slow down and take a breath who is also your boss and landlord.
You've worked there long enough to have learned the names and orders of all the regulars who've been coming in since long before you walked through the door and to have seen some new regulars enter the rotation. In truth, you've worked there long enough to basically be running the place. It's still the bar in your head, not your bar because getting attached will do you no good. This is how it always goes: you care too much but it never seems like anyone cares back. You cut and run before you can be disappointed and you’ve already been here longer than you’d expected to be because it’s something close to comfortable. 
Almost no one messes with you despite being younger than most of the clientele and on the off chance some frat boy from the city decides to take a cheap shot you've got a small army of imposing customers on your side. Between them and your coworkers, it's almost like you're not alone. 
Almost.
The hours you spend away from the bar are spent alone. You don't have many numbers in your phone and the ones you do you don't call. You go on drives in the shitty truck you bought off some guy when you moved here. You browse used bookstores and suffer the heat of the day on long walks and wonder if this is all there is. You think of what it might be like to feel something other than rootless.
One thing that helps is…sex. Being close to someone for even a little while, letting yourself be seen in a way that doesn’t require you to totally show your hand. You try not to make a habit of actually fucking your clientele. It can get messy quickly, guys coming in and expecting more than a good pour. Being offended when you don't give them a free round, don't make eyes at them over the oiled wood. It's easier to be alone, that much you've learned. It's easier and it's simpler and it means you've only got yourself to blame for the hurt you sometimes feel laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as some rock song thrums up through the floor. 
And if you do fuck someone from the bar, you keep it simple. You do, however, try really hard not to sleep with regulars. And no staying over. A classic, unspoken rule of sleeping with strangers that you rarely verbalize but make sure to enforce every time. It keeps things neat. The last thing you need is mess. Who knows how long you'll stay in this town, in this little apartment and this shitty bar. You've got a lot of years left, a lot of years you should probably spend in classrooms or an office or falling in love with some nice guy with a nice family who can give you a nice life. 
But you're here. 
And then, one day, so is Joel.
Being a good bartender is memorization, paying attention, and keeping a level head. You know how to make pretty much any drink even though your regulars are mostly the simple beer or Jack and Coke kind of people. You swear you can tell when a glass is going to fall a second before it shatters, spot a punch before it can be thrown. So you notice when a man you've never seen before walks through the door.
You notice how the energy of the room changes, how multiple pairs of eyes follow him as he settles at the end of the half-full bar. Dark hair shot through with grey, green shirt rolled up over chorded forearms that he rests on the wood. It feels like you should know him but you don't. You've never seen him before.
You finish pouring beers for some giggly girls before making your way over to him. His eyes track you.
You wonder what he'll order. A shot, maybe, based on the tense line of his shoulders. Or a dark beer. Maybe something strong. You hope he won't be one of those guys you have to peel off the bar in a few hours. "Can I get you something?"
"Whiskey, rocks," he says. You can hear the Texas drawl even from so few words. Deep, low, measured. "Cheapest you got."
For some reason, it feels like he's returning and you're the new one. "Wanna start a tab?"
"I'll do cash at the end," he says. Ah, one of those. Guy getting away from his wife, maybe. Tough day at work. Doesn't want to leave tracks. You can relate to that.
"Joel fuckin’ Miller," one of your regulars says as you turn to grab a glass. He claps the man -- Joel -- on the shoulder. "Heard you were back up this way," he says. "Good to see you, man."
Joel simply inclines his head once like he's not thrilled to be recognized. The dismissal is clear. And, weirdest of all, it works. You've seen insults hurled between friends for less.
You set his drink down, the amber liquid sloshing around the ice. 
"Thanks," he mutters. The dismissal is...less clear, but you've got other customers to tend to. And Joel doesn't seem particularly chatty.
Your eyes return to him for the next hour or so but he never waves you over for another round. Heat trails up and down your spine and you have to tell yourself that he's not watching you. That would be too optimistic, right? At one point you take a bathroom break and when you're back he's gone, wrinkled bills stacked under the glass. Enough for his drink and a decent tip. 
Joel comes in three more times over the next month before you sleep with him. Each time he orders the same drink, leaves the same tip. He sits alone at the bar, occasionally saying hello when someone approaches but no one ever sits next to him. He's gruff but only ever polite to you, doesn't get impatient when it takes you a minute to get to him. 
And he's really something to look at. The tick in his jaw, the veins in his neck. His skin is tanned, dotted with small scars that must come from a lifetime of hard work. He wears a watch and jeans that hug his ass in an almost indecent way, a way that has you watching him when he's not on a stool. Sometimes you catch him smirking to himself when there's some shit going on at the bar, gossip or people being loud for no reason. You wonder what his laugh sounds like and scold yourself for it. No harm in looking but there's the possibility of harm in thinking too much. You know better.
The third time he comes in is a bad night. It's busy for some reason and everyone is a fucking asshole. You weren't even supposed to work tonight but one of the seasonal kids had banged on your door begging you to come help, promising you all the tips for tonight if you did. You knew it would make you look good to Bill and despite yourself, you didn’t want to leave them hanging, so here you are, sweaty and pissed and smelling like beer, doing your best to empty the dishwasher in between drink orders and praying the keg doesn't need changing. 
You don't even notice when Joel comes in, only spotting him once he's managed to scare some college kid from a seat at the bar. For some reason, his presence makes you a little calmer in the chaos. 
"Be with you in a sec, Joel," you say to him when you're near. You don't call him by his name since he never actually introduced himself to you but it slips out in the rush. His nostrils flare but you don't have time to linger on it even as you feel the hot weight of his gaze. 
"No rush."
You manage to get him what you know by now to be his usual only to be called over by your least favorite customer of the night as soon as he's thanked you. 
"Honey," the asshole says. This fucker's name is Seth and he's a pain in your ass. "Gimme another, will you? Make it a heavy pour." This would be his fifth and he's already slurring his words. 
"Don't think so," you tell him firmly. "I'm cutting you off for tonight, Seth." He's liable to start some shit or at the very least throw up on the floor and you don't want to deal with either. You don't have time to deal with either. 
His bloodshot eyes narrow and he slams a fist on the bar. You manage not to flinch, though pretty much everyone else does. "That's not good fucking service, sweetcheeks," he leers. 
"Good thing I don't give a fuck," you snap. "Get the fuck out of here before you do something you regret, sweetcheeks.” The venom in your tone seems to surprise him before sheer rage takes over. You've thrown out plenty of assholes in your time here but it's not always a smooth experience.
Seth leans forward over the bar, reaches for you -- to do what, you have no idea -- and you prepare yourself to yell for backup and then kick him out for good and maybe get a punch in as he goes. His fingers manage to hook in your shirtsleeve before a hand closes around his wrist.
Before Seth can scream he's got his outstretched arm behind his back, face twisted in pain. Behind him is --
Joel?
The bar is almost silent. You can hear a few whispers over the blood pumping in your ears. 
"I'd get out of here if I were you," Joel hisses. He glances at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Are you okay? he seems to be asking. You nod. 
Seth whimpers. "Let me go," he says weakly. 
"Just gonna show you the door." Joel all but drags him through the parting crowd. 
"Jesus," someone says behind you. One of the seasonal kids. "You okay?"
"I'm taking my break." You leave the kid behind the bar to fend for himself and barrel into the back and through the side door into the alley where you always take your 15. It's one of those weird cold fall nights, just the wrong side of chilly to be here without a jacket but you left it in the bar office.
The milk carton you sit on has been turned over so you kick it back with a thud and slump down onto it. The light above the door flickers. "This shit is getting old," you say to no one. You kick aside cigarette butts that aren't yours and wonder how long you can do this. What would be next, anyway? You've got a laundry list of failed dreams and no one wondering if you're going to make something of yourself. Long nights at a bar you care about more than you should and rowdy customers and handsome men who barely say a word to you can't last forever, can it? Would anyone here even notice if you left?
The door flies open, startling you out of your thoughts. 
Joel steps into the alley. Somehow he manages to yet again look like he was meant to be here and you're the one who is out of place. You blink at him and he stares back like he wasn't sure he'd find you here.
"Got lost?" you ask. "Pretty sure you know where the front door is."
He lets the metal door swing shut and crosses his arms. "Was lookin' for you."
That catches you by surprise. "Why?"
Joel shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders. His expression doesn't budge. "Sorry for makin' trouble."
Oh, right. Seth. You wave him off. "Just another night," you say. "I'd have handled it." You stand from the crate and lean against the brick wall. It's true. Seth isn't the first asshole you've handled.
"I bet you would've," Joel mutters. He takes one step closer. You're reminded all at once how good-looking he is, how you've wondered what his hands would feel like on your skin. There's no way he's ever thought of you, right? You're just some girl who pours him drinks, too young and too forgettable. He was just having a man moment, wanting to save the day or some shit like that. 
"I don't have a cigarette or anything if you want to smoke," you say. This close he doesn't smell like tobacco but you don't know what else to say. "Sorry."
"So you just sit in alleys on your break for fun?"
"I like this alley," you say, suddenly a bit defensive. "It's a nice alley." You take a step towards him. He uncrosses his arms and his hands flex at his sides. You shiver. "No one bothers me out here."
Joel tilts his head to the side. "That so?" His eyes are dark under the dim light. When did he get so close? When did your face get so hot?
"Except guys who drink whiskey on the rocks, I guess," you say. It comes out much softer than you'd like, your voice cracking. The air doesn't have the same bite as it did seconds ago. Joel's expression hovers between something you recognize and something you don't, something you desperately want to figure out. "Good thing I don't mind." The adrenaline from the small altercation hasn't left and the swirl of emotions about your whole shitty life has you on edge, has you wanting to play with fire.
You're so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat of him in the still night. Joel's eyes rake over your face, looking for something, something you try very hard to show him so that he might fucking do it, meet the want that is suddenly uncontrollable halfway, or at least tell you if he's not interested so you can --
Your name is a groan in his throat and then he's kissing you. His palm cups the back of your head as he presses you into the wall, his other hand firm on your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt hard enough to bruise. He tastes like the whiskey you served him. You fist one hand in his collar and wind the other into his hair.
Joel controls the kiss but you give as good as you get. He licks into your mouth and you suck on his lower lip. His beard rubs against your face in a delicious burn and when you tug on his hair he makes a noise you must hear again. The brick behind you scrapes a bit but you hardly notice when he presses against you, slides a thigh between your legs and you feel him hard through his jeans. 
"S'not right, you lookin' so good yellin' at that asshole," he grumbles into your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. You cant your hips and he hisses.
"Speak for yourself," you manage. "Always got your eyes on me, don't you?" It feels like a risk to call him on it. Control of the situation is slipping from your grasp, this man who you never thought would actually touch you now holding you in his arms, his lips on your skin. He pulls back from your neck and smirks, eyes dark. 
"'Spose I do." 
You can work with that. You surge forward to kiss him again and this time he lets you call the shots while still meeting your bruising caresses with his own.
"Joel." You tug on his hair.
He makes that noise again.
It might be five minutes, it might be an hour. You have no idea. All you know is you can still feel his cock through the denim and you're so turned on you might combust in this alley. Or at the very least let him fuck you in it.
"I don't close tonight," you pant. One of Joel's hands has worked its way into your back pocket and the other has rucked up your shirt to rest on your bare back. 
"What?" he growls.
"My shift. I'm off at 11." You tap his watch. He glances at it and sees it read 10:30. "Half hour. I live upstairs."
For a second you think he'll say no. Walk away with a nod of his head and out of your life forever. Wouldn't be the first, wouldn't be the last. You're already breaking one of your rules by even considering sleeping with him but there's just something about him. The way he looks at you, the way his hands feel on your skin. You want to know what he'll feel like inside you. Maybe you’re still in this town because you were waiting for him to walk through the door.
"Alright," he says. He clears his throat and releases you. You fuss with your hair and straighten your shirt and he adjusts himself in his jeans. "Half hour." His dark eyes narrow as he glances down the alley back towards the street. 
"Take a walk around the block or something," you tell him, swallowing the urge to laugh at him so handsome and disheveled from your hands. Never in a million years would you have predicted that tonight would go this way. "My door is on the other side of the building. I'll let you up."
The urge to flatten the damage your hands did to his hair is so overwhelming for a second that you step away from him towards the door. His eyes follow you, expression unreadable. How many nights would it take for you to know what he's thinking? Careful, you think, or you'll be tempted to find out. 
Joel watches you until you give him a little wave and slip back into the bar. The metal door clangs shut behind you and you lean against it, knees still wobbly. Is this actually happening? Are you really this overwhelmed by making out with some guy in an alley? You check the clock on the wall and curse. Your break ended ten minutes ago though since no one came looking for you it's probably no big deal. Being mostly in charge has its perks.
The bar is a little less crowded than when you left so you grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. Joel's seat is empty, his glass gone. 
"Oh, hey," the seasonal kid says. "That guy, uh, Joel? He said to make sure you get this." He pulls out Joel's usual tip from his apron and holds it out to you.
Considering you're planning to go upstairs and fuck him until you can't walk, you don't feel like taking his tip tonight. "It's yours," you say. "Thanks for handling everything while I was out back." The kid blinks at you but knows better than to refuse, pocketing the cash and going back to loading the dishwasher. 
You finish your shift. Your blood feels electric, your skin hot. Can anyone in this bar tell what happened in the alley? You haven't felt this way about a hookup in ages. Like you were wanted, not just convenient. It's just one night, right? Maybe he'll never come to the bar again, which makes your chest tighten for a second. Maybe you're about to ruin something you don't totally understand. But you haven't gotten this far in life by worrying about shit like that, so you clock out and wave goodbye and make your way to the other side of the building. 
Joel isn't there. You unlock the door to the stairwell so you can at least wait for him inside when you hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel under boots. You fist your key between your knuckles just in case but before you can turn around you hear your name in that Texas drawl. 
"Just me," he says. You don't know if Joel Miller is capable of looking nervous but this is probably close. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets. A thrill runs up your spine. Are you really doing this? Are you really about to bring this man up to your apartment and hope to god he does whatever you want to you? 
"Come on up." Yes. Yes, you are. You give him a smile and he follows you up to the landing. 
"S'loud," he mutters once you shut the door. The bar's music wasn't that loud when you were in it and up here it's a dull hum, people's voices and laughter slipping through the cracks like a TV left on a little too high in the other room. These days it's background noise to you but you figure Joel lives in a house somewhere with lots of land and open windows and silence. He seems like the type to like silence. 
Jacket on the hook, shoes clumsily thrown on the mat, keys in the dish. Your normal routine except there’s a man in your living room, too. He looks around the space, hands still in his pockets. You try not to be self-conscious about your place. It's small, sure, the bedroom visible through the currently open French doors in the small living room. Your kitchen is tiny, bathroom tinier, but it's all yours. "You get used to it," you say. "I hardly mind it anymore."
"Didn't say I did," he says. You both stand there for a few moments before Joel takes two big steps and crowds you against the door, one hand on your hip and the other next to your head. "Means they won't hear us." You swallow a gasp as he drags his nose along the curve of your jaw, breath hot on your skin. You were going to ask him if you could shower first since you undoubtedly smell like sweat and beer but clearly, he doesn't mind. His tongue darts out and he sucks on your pulse point, your own hands clutching desperately at his shirt. If he moves you're sure you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. "Means you can be as loud as you want," he growls. "That sound good?"
Any breath remaining in your body rushes out and you jerk your hips to make contact with the hardness in his jeans. "Yeah," you gasp. You can feel something like a smile against your neck. "That sounds good."
It's a dynamic you don't mind stepping into -- whatever this is. Every second of your life you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone around you to get tired. Your eyes are always on the exit, always wondering where you'll go next, what you'll leave behind this time. Even when you're fucking strangers you're always wondering how you'll get them to leave. You’re better off alone. But right here, right now, with Joel's heavy scent of sawdust and whiskey and something earthy, something grounding, in your nostrils, his hands and his mouth on you, nothing else matters. Your brain shuts off and you're just here.
You grab Joel's jaw and guide his lips back to yours. He allows it and you moan deep in your throat as he tongues back into your mouth, your own trying to give as good as you're getting. He pops the button on your jeans and you help him with frantic hands, shoving them down your hips along with your underwear so he can ghost his fingers through your coarse curls. He pulls back from the kiss to watch as he drags two fingers through your folds. Your eyes lock and he smirks as your lids flutter.
"Soaked," is all he says. You tip your head forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder.
"Don't be smug."
He huffs. "I ain't trying to sound like an asshole, but --"
"Already failed." He nips at your earlobe.
"Gotta work you open a bit, sweetheart," he says. His fingers circle your clit once, ever so slowly. Your grip on his bicep tightens and you wonder if you'll leave bruises. You hope so. "Gonna be a tight fit."
"Heard -- fuck -- that before," you gasp. Joel really fucking knows what he's doing. "I -- bed?"
"Smart girl," he says. You're pretty sure you get wetter. He pulls his fingers free but keeps a hold on your hip like he knows your knees are jelly. "Sit on the edge." 
You leave your jeans and underwear behind and make your way to the bed through the French doors, sitting heavily on the quilt, knees bent and leaning on your hands behind you. Before you can say another word, Joel lowers to his knees between yours. He pries them apart even further and runs his hands up and down your thighs. 
For a few seconds, you can't find the words. This man, older than you and impossibly handsome, face lined with years he's lived and hands callused with work he's done, this man that you hardly know anything about but can't get out of your mind, is on his knees before you.
"You gonna be okay down there?" is what you come up with.
"You always talk this much?" he mutters, though his mouth tugs up at the corner. Joel's forearms wrap around your legs and he tugs. You fall flat on your back in surprise and your ass almost hangs off the bed. He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and kneads the flesh of your thigh, eyes dark and jaw twitching as he spreads you open and just looks. "Might have to help me up but I think I'll be just fine."
"Joel --" 
The end of his name becomes a high-pitched moan when he leans in and buries his face in your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down through your folds, nose catching your clit in a way that makes you squirm. His beard scrapes against your skin deliciously, leaving a sting that you know you'll be able to see evidence of when he's done. He laps at you before finally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking like his life depends on it. It's only his hand on your outstretched thigh keeping you from suffocating him between your legs, though you're not sure he'd mind.
"Should be a crime," he says. You look down the length of your body at him. His chin is wet with you, eyes meeting yours when he feels your stare. "Cunt this pretty tastin' so good."
How do you reply to that?
He's back at it before you can even try. Joel gets messy with it, the sounds of his attention loud and filthy. He tells you how wet you are, how good you taste, and your eyes flutter shut again.
"How're we doing?" 
"Don't stop," you manage. "Just, don't stop--"
He prods your entrance with one finger. "Reckon you can take it, hmm? You're so wet it'll be easy." There's a bite to his tone, a sense of amusement mixed with awe like he can hardly believe it either. 
"Two," you gasp. "I can take two." You need two, in fact. His hands are one of the few parts of him you've been able to study and you know his fingers are long, much thicker than yours and you need them to fill you up, need them to stretch you out. You need something to clench around because right now you feel like you're on the edge of the pleasure building in your core and if you don't get a release soon you'll just…just…combust. 
Joel hums but you feel a second finger nudge into you. He slides them in and curls them as he goes. Your back arches off the bed.
"Dunno," he coos. "Pretty tight, sweetheart." The slight meanness to his words is in complete contrast with the gentle, attentive way he handles you. Who knew he'd be such a fucking tease.
"Well get to work, then." He scissors the digits inside of you in reply and returns to sucking on your clit. You reach down and bury your hand in his silver-streaked hair, tugging a bit harder than you intend to. Joel just moans into your cunt, the vibration making it feel like your very pelvis is rattling as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 
Sweat beads on your brow as you try to hold on. He picks up the pace and presses into your walls with his fingertips like he's looking for something. His tongue wreaks havoc on the rest of you, sucking bruises into your inner thighs when he's not abusing your clit. If this is just the foreplay you don't know how you'll survive actually fucking him. And he hasn't even asked you to touch him, hasn't shown even a hint of expectation. He's doing this to get you ready but based on the blown state of his pupils he's enjoying it almost as much as you are. 
"Getting close?" he asks, breath ragged. Your skin is starting to feel deliciously raw from his beard and the hook in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter. 
"Yes -- fuck -- I'm close, Joel, keep --"
His hand moves faster than before and he latches back onto your clit. Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm coming, it's just right there, you just need him to --
His fingers find the spot he must have been looking for and your only warning is a sharp tug on his hair and then your back arches and you come all over his face. He fingers fucks you through it and you feel it as your walls clench around him, your mouth open in a high whine as your muscles finally relax and you flop back onto the bed. Joel keeps his face in your cunt, gently lapping at your release while avoiding your sensitive clit. You push his hair back from his face and try to get your breathing under control.
He manages to get up on his own with a grunt as you pant on the bed. "Okay?" he asks. "Lookin' a little tired." You show him your middle finger and he...laughs, lips shiny with your slick. So he can laugh. 
"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" you ask him. His eyes travel slowly over your bare bottom half, the redness of your thighs from his beard and the way your shirt has rucked up to the wire of your bra. 
"Nah." He sits heavily on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and socks. You want to ask him if you can undress him, slowly peel off his layers button by button and explore every inch of him but you won't be able to take it if he says no so you just watch. Already you know you'll be thinking about this night for a long fucking time. The way it seems like he cares about how you're feeling, how he wants to take his time with you, how he enjoys your pleasure. It's nice. It's...making you feel wanted.
His denim button-up is tossed on the floor and he stands, shirtless, to undo his belt. The forearms and small triangle at his throat that you've been treated with thus far when he sits at the bar in no way prepared you for the rest of him. Broad shoulders, thick, muscled arms from years of hard work. Graying chest hair that travels all the way down the slight softness of his belly and in a darker trail his jeans. Your mouth waters. 
"You're starin'," he says softly before unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down in one motion. 
"Taste of your own medicine." The words come out with much less bite than you intended as his cock springs free. 
Well, he wasn't lying. He is big. You knew he would be based on what you felt through his pants, but seeing it is something else. 
You sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to be closer. Is he really going to fit? He's bigger than anyone you've fucked before, that's for sure. A ruddy color, a little darker than his tanned chest, the tip a little lighter and already leaking. A few veins run the length of him and the hair at the base of his shaft is clearly taken care of though a little wild and a shade of deep brown that hasn't grayed much yet. His balls hang heavy, one slightly bigger than the other. He twitches under your gaze. You look up at him and wait for him to call out your staring again but instead, he's just watching you, pupils blown. 
"You are...so beautiful," you breathe. He makes a dismissive noise but a flush travels up his chest and to his face. It's true. There's something about him that makes you think you could look every second for the rest of your life and not get enough.
"Should be sayin' that to you." He strokes himself once and you lick your lips. "You got a condom? Should be one in my pocket if you don't." Does he always carry one? Or did he hope to get lucky with you, just like you've been thinking about him?
"Bedside table drawer." He goes for it and you remember too late that the drawer has...other things in it, too. His eyebrows raise and he eyes your small collection of toys but says nothing, though his cock twitches again. If you asked, would he use them on you? He seems like the type to be into that. But right now you need him inside you so badly you might combust.
"Can I?" He pauses before handing the foil square to you. You take him in hand and stroke him from root to tip. He makes a noise low in his throat and you lean in to trace the vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue. His hips twitch forward just a bit like he's trying to keep control and failing. You know the feeling. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the slightest bit salty. You kind of lose the plot for a second, thoughts of him fucking you fading with the desire to make him feel good like this, to blow him until he's moaning your name like you were moaning his.
Joel slides his fingers into your hair and you manage to take him about halfway before he tugs gently. "I'm not complainin'," he says, voice tight. "'Specially when you look so damn pretty like this. But I've been hard as a fuckin' rock for an hour and I ain't as young as I used to be, so..." He trails off.
You place a dainty kiss on his tip and pat his hip. "Another time," you say, realizing too late what you've implied, but Joel just smirks. You tear open the foil and slide the condom on as gingerly as you can but he still hisses your name like he's scolding you, that hand in your hair pulling once again just a little. You feel the arousal pooling in your gut, sticky between your thighs. 
He tugs on the collar of your shirt. "Off," he says. You're quick to obey, whipping it to a corner of your apartment along with your bra. Joel just looks for a second before reaching a calloused hand to palm one breast, thumb sliding over your nipple. "Look at you," he says, breathy, with a squeeze. "Christ."
"You gonna fuck me, Joel Miller?" You blink up at him. He swallows visibly, throat bobbing before that smirk is back. 
"Only ‘cause you asked so nicely." 
You scramble back up the bed on your hands and knees, leaning down on your elbows and presenting him with your bare cunt. "Cause I'm such a lady."
"That so?" he murmurs. He drags his fingers through your folds slowly, brows furrowed. You fist your hands in the sheets. "You want it like this?" he asks. He palms your hip, traces the curve of your ass and presses his fingertips into your skin. You wiggle at him a little. Most guys you hook up with want it like this. You don't mind being fucked from behind, don't mind being able to close your eyes with your face shoved in the sheets and just feel. God knows with a dick his size you'll be feeling it regardless of the position you're in. But part of you does want to look at Joel, to watch him, his expression, his handsome, rugged face. Feel his arms around you, feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he fucks you. See what his eyes look like when he comes. But this is enough.
"Do I need to say please?"
The head of his cock presses against your entrance in reply. You crane your neck to see as much of him as you can. He's focused on your ass with a light frown, hands resting on your hips.
"Gonna go slow," he grumbles. His gaze meets yours. "For my benefit as much as yours."
Words don't come. You're breathless and dripping, desperate for him to just get on with it. 
"Joel, are you gonna just stand there --"
He slowly, torturously slowly, starts to slide into you. The stretch is immediate, has you face down in the sheets, eyes fluttering. Each inch of painful stretch fades quickly to throbbing pleasure, a fullness that has you keening. 
You press your hips back into him but his fingers grip tighter, holding you in place. "What did I say?" he grits out. 
"Feels so good, so big," you babble. There's nothing left in your brain, your body, but this. But Joel. You have to have all of him. "I can take it, I can take your cock, I --"
"Got quite the mouth on you, huh?" he says. He keeps pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch. "Okay?" he pants. "Look at me, tell me it feels good --"
You crane your neck again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and look at him. His own are lidded, mouth open in an "o" like he can hardly believe it himself. A flush runs down his chest and if you didn't know better you'd say he's trembling.
"Yes, I -- god, Joel, keep going, please --"
"Doin' good, sweetheart," he coos. His hand strokes up and down your spine. "Almost there. Almost takin' all of me."
He bottoms out and you see stars. You feel lips on your back, the warm puffs of his breath on your skin as he waits for you. It's a fine line between pain and pleasure and you're walking the tightrope but the stretch is delicious. You can feel every inch of him. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you shift your hips a little, loving it when Joel moans.
"Alright," you manage. "Move, please." His fingertips are back on your hips and give you a squeeze before he starts to drag his cock out of you. The tip of him catches the spot inside of you that makes your back arch as he pulls out and then again when he thrusts in. 
"All that work, my fingers and my tongue and you're still so fuckin' tight. Christ."
The only thing you manage to say is a litany of his name.
"Lemme hear it, baby," he grinds out. Baby. "Be so loud those fuckers downstairs hear you--"
You meet his thrusts as best you can and even though it feels so good, even though you're so full, it's not bringing you to the edge like you need. Your neck is starting to hurt from the way you're twisting to see him, your fingers gripping the sheets as hard as you can because you want to be touching him instead. But this is good, this works, maybe if you touch your clit, you'll --
You reach between your legs and Joel pulls out. You get off your elbows and turn around, almost gasping at the loss of him. "Is something wrong?"
He's frowning at you. "Should be askin' you that."
You don't know what to say. Your cunt throbs a little from being empty, the ache settling in now that he's not there to literally fuck it away. "What?"
"You stopped makin' those noises," he says softly. “The ones you were makin’ before.” You turn around and sit facing him, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Ain't gonna fuck you in a position you don't like."
"I --" You try to fight through the haze of your brain for words. "I liked it fine."
Joel waits. He just stands there at the edge of the bed and waits. 
"Maybe..." you try again. "Would on my back be okay for you?"
His eyebrows raise like he can't believe you'd think otherwise. "That'll work for me," he says slowly. "Grab a pillow." You shift back on the bed as he kneels on it, positioning himself between your legs. You hand him one of your pillows and he taps your hip. "Up." You obey and he slides it under you so your lower half is lifted a bit before he presses one leg to the side, spreading you open. He slowly bends the other so that your thigh is pressed against your torso in a deep stretch without being painful. You feel bare, exposed in a way he somehow hasn't yet achieved. 
Joel fixes his gaze on your face. "Let's try that." He strokes himself once and then leans over you, bracing himself on one hand near your head. He lines up to press his cock into you again. Faster than last time, you wince a little but you dig your fingertips into his back to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out and you immediately feel the difference, eyes fluttering shut. Before it was like he was plowing into you, like you were so full you could hardly handle it. But like this it's like he's melting into you, like there is no space between you anymore. You're full but it's not so harsh. You don’t know where you end and he begins.
"That better?" he croaks. You force yourself to look at him and find his face closer, closer than you thought he'd get, breath warm on your face. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes search your face. This close you can see they’re grey, the lines at the corners deep with strain. Even like this, stuffed full of his cock, you could look at him all day.
"Move, Joel," you tell him. He takes that for a yes and starts at a punishing pace. You have no idea how he's kept it together this long, considering you've felt on the edge of another orgasm this entire time. You anchor your arms on his shoulders as his thrusts make you see stars. 
"Ask for what you want, you hear me?" His balls smack loudly against you and he presses his lips to your ear. "You ask and I'll do my damn best."
You don't know what it is -- the overwhelming sensation of his cock dragging in and out at this angle, how close he is, his words -- but you feel tears at the corners of your eyes again. You nod frantically, hands grasping for purchase on his back. 
"C'mon," Joel says. "Gotta use that mouth, sweetheart."
"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, Joel, yes --"
"Fuckin' perfect for me," he moans. His lips trail up your cheek, tongue catching your tears before he presses them to yours in a messy kiss that's more teeth and breath than anything else. 
"Joel, Joel, Joel --"
"Gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock like you did my face?"
Your orgasm comes like the snap of a rubber band. You hold him as tight as you can as it washes through you, the waves almost painful as he keeps fucking you fast and hard, your name a series of broken sounds from his mouth until his hips stutter and he groans deep in his chest. You try to keep your eyes on him as you come down from your high and are rewarded with the scrunch of his brow and the slight part of his lips as he comes. Beautiful, you think. 
The room is all of sudden much quieter without the sounds of your fucking. It's just the dull sounds of Frank's through the floor and your combined panting as he pulls out of you and flops on the bed beside you. You wince this time, the soreness really settling in. Joel finds your hand and kisses the back of it in a move so unexpectedly tender you can't look at him, raw as you are already. The bed shifts and you figure he's throwing out the condom. 
"You okay?" he says. You open your eyes and find him standing at the edge, looking at you. He's holding your robe from the bathroom. You stretch and let him look. 
"Yeah," you reply. You give him a smile as you scoot to the edge and wrap yourself in it when he holds it out. "Thank you." Joel grunts. 
You go to the bathroom yourself to pee and see the damage. Hair a mess, your mascara gathered around your eyes like you've been working hard. You've got hickies forming on your neck and chest, the skin rubbed a bit raw from his beard around your mouth. You love how you look right now. 
You look like you got fucked well. And you did. 
But now you want a shower and a snack and to go to bed. 
You half expect Joel to be gone when you go back into the bedroom. You remember belatedly that you don't let hookups stay the night. Will he leave if you ask him to? If he's already left then you don't need to worry about it. A small part of you worries you won’t ask him to go.
Instead, he's sitting on the edge of your bed putting his boots on. His shirt is unbuttoned but other than that he's dressed. He looks up briefly. His own hair is going in a thousand different directions and if this wasn't a one-night stand you'd fix it for him, a hand pushing it back like you did when he was between your thighs. But things are different outside the heat of the moment. 
"You want some water or anything?" you ask instead.
He shakes his head and finishes his boot, stands and buttons his shirt. "Nah," he says. "Should just head out."
You wonder belatedly if there's anyone at home missing him. Maybe he's got a wife. Maybe he's got a life that he's running away from and into your arms. 
"Bar'll be closed by now, or as good as," you say. You spy his jacket by the door and bend to pick it up. "No one'll see you."
Joel's face does something funny that you don't quite know how to read. He takes his jacket from you and shrugs it on. "Alright," he says. 
He looks awkward in a way you didn't know he could so you throw him a line. "Thanks," you say. For fucking me. For listening to me. For making me feel good. "It was fun. See you around?"
His expression softens. He steps close and gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you once, firmly but chastely compared to what you were doing before. 
"See you around," he says. And then he opens the door and disappears down the stairs. 
You hear the outer door close and only then do you let out a breath. Your entire body feels like you just spent hours at the gym. But your mind? It's going a thousand miles an hour. You don't know what to think about first -- how Joel looked, how he spoke to you, how his hands felt. How he implored you to ask for what you wanted, how he made you feel good because it made him feel good. How you desperately, desperately want to see him again, to know him in every possible way. How you want him to walk back up the stairs and hold you until you fall asleep.
And that's not how you expected to feel. It's not how you should feel after a one-night stand with a guy you serve a few times a week at your place of employment. Like he saw right to the core of you, like he gave you something you didn't know you needed. 
You need to get a hold of yourself. This is how it starts -- this is how you get hurt. You care. Well, you always care, but no one has to know that. You let someone care about you. Not that Joel does, but he could. 
But isn't that the one thing you want most of all? 
You sleep in the next day. There's not much that needs to be done at Frank's besides bookkeeping and inventory which doesn't take you long. When you finally make it downstairs, three Advil popped to ease the soreness of your entire body, you're surprised to find Bill himself sitting at the bar. 
He looks just as you remember, hair a little longer and a little grayer. Shit kickers and jeans, a hunting jacket and trucker hat. You'll bet his actual truck is parked around back where no one from the road can see it. 
"Uh, hi?" Bill hasn't come around for at least a year, which is making your stomach sink a little. The last time was when there was a fire because some dumbass tried to smoke inside and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to quit on him for having to throw water on the nasty curtains. 
"Heard about Seth," he says. Always right to the point, this guy. He's drinking what looks to be Coke with a lemon. "Sit." You do as he says. So much for bookkeeping.
"Yep," you say. You have no idea where he heard it and know better than to ask. "No big deal."
"I want to retire."
What? "Do you...work here?" Bill appreciates honesty and he's the kind of asshole that respects you if you're an asshole back. 
"No," he says. "But I own the fuckin' dump. And me and Frank want to retire."
"There's a Frank?"
"My partner, dumbass. Keep up."
You were already groggy and still muddled from last night but this is forcing you to bring everything into sharp focus. Bill wants to retire. Which means he wants to...
"So my options are to sell this dump or find someone to take it."
If he sells the bar you're shit out of luck. No way another owner would let you live upstairs the way you do for next to nothing and let you work here and run the show. This is...a lot to take in.
"Are you listening to me?" Bill says. You blink a few times. 
"No," you admit. "Can you say that again?"
He sighs. "Do you want it?"
"The bar?" you ask incredulously. 
"No, idiot, the dumpster out back. Yes, the bar." He raps his knuckles on the bar top. "You could keep everything the same. It's just paperwork, really. I'll just give it to you. God knows a young person like you could make it nicer, turn a better profit." He says it like it's an insult. 
"Are you fucking serious?" This goes against most every rule you've had for yourself for the last who knows how long. Don't get attached, keep moving. No one really needs you so you can disappear whenever. You haven't gotten bored yet, haven't gotten restless, but you know it'll happen. There's no way you can do this forever. But owning a bar? That would make you stay. You'd have no out. You’d have to let yourself be seen, let yourself be needed. You’d have to commit. You’d have to not fuck it up.
"Why not?" he shrugs. "I know you said it was temporary back when you moved in, but you practically run it."
He's right. Everything is temporary for you. But would sticking around be so bad? Would trying to actually make a life for yourself, have a home base, a thing you care about be the end of the world? And then there's Joel...No. Not going there. 
"I..."
"Either you take it or I shut it down." Bill gets off his stool and looks around. "No one cares enough about it to try to sell it."
"Then why me?"
"Do you care about it?" he asks. His piercing stare pins you to your stool, compels you to be honest with him where you're rarely honest with yourself. 
"Yeah," you say. "I do."
"Then there's you're fuckin' answer. I know you do. You clean the shit out of this place and train the seasonal dipshits and learn the names of the fuckin’ drunks and live upstairs and make this a good place for good people to come. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice." It's possibly the most words Bill has ever said to you in a row. 
"Can I...think about it?"
He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Not too long, though. Gotta decide by the end of the year. Maybe earlier."
That gives you three months, give or take. To figure out what the fuck you're going to do.
With one conversation Bill has shattered your entire life here. Now there’s actually a timer on it, this little piece you’ve carved out and started to enjoy. Could you make it a real thing? Could you finally admit to yourself that this is what you want – to be wanted? To be needed? To have something that’s yours?
The bar door shuts and you realize Bill has left you alone with your thoughts. You shift in your stool and a wave of soreness rolls through you from your core. 
You thunk your forehead on the bar. “Fuck me,” you say to the empty room. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!
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russellsppttemplates · 7 months ago
Text
Let me love on you a little more (Charles Leclerc)
Sometimes, it felt like what you were doing was a drop in the immense ocean, but Charles always made you feel a little better when you had the chance to go home
Note: english is not my first language. I based this on the news and stories I heard from people on the front line! This is in no way romanticising or summing up what happened, much less downplaying it! I hold huge huge respect and gratitude for healthcare workers!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: Covid-19 pandemic and themes associated with reader being a front line worker as a doctor (mentions hospitals, tests, death)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"You can follow the purple line to the testing site we have here", you told the elderly woman.
"Is it going to hurt too much? My neighbour had to get tested to weeks ago when she visited her family and she said it's uncomfortable", she mused.
"It's a little itchy, I have to admit it, but it shouldn't hurt you, just a little bit uncomfortable, Mrs. Loire", you attempted to soothe her, your usual hand on the patients' arm now a strongly inadvisable way to comfort them.
"Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N", he said, her eyes letting you know that behind her mask there was a big smile on appreciation and gratitude.
Taking temperatures and checking flu like symptoms was not how you thought your medical career would pan out once you chose your speciality, but the new normal was this and you were working your best to do what you got into medicine to do in the first place, improve and save lives.
"How many people have you sent to the testing site?", your colleague Marina asked you when she noticed that for now, there were no walk-ins or ambulances with new patients.
"Just this morning, twenty-five", you sighed, "the closest I got to a potential non-Covid case was the kid that broke his arm, but Ortho swooped him right from me".
"Are you truly so disappointed about not being on an Orthopedics case?", she chuckled, "you hated everytime you had to be on that floor", she argued.
"I'd do anything that isn't watching people die because we don't have enough equipment or because we don't know enough about this disease to stop it", you let your frustrations out.
"We're going to win this, Y/N", Marina squeezed your shoulder, "you're usually the hopeful one on the service, but I can hope for the two of us today", she replied earnestly, "I'm going to have lunch now, do you want to go with me and sit on opposite tables so I can at least look at your face without a mask from a distance?".
"Let's go, I'm starving and I'm going up to the ward this afternoon", you raised your eyebrows, tidying up the station for whoever would cover the afternoon shift there.
As you walked to the area you had lunch in, you were happy to find the sun shinning outside on the green park area where you or the patients' family would take them to get fresh air when they were still admitted and recovering. It wasn't a thing now for obvious reasons, so you and Marina ended up in there keeping a safe distance while enjoying the feeling on the sun on your bare skin.
"Do you sometimes feel like you're losing all sense of time in there?", Marina nudged to the big building, "my mother's birthday was yesterday and I thought it was still a month away - she called me to say she had left a piece of cake for me by my door".
"Yesterday, Charles called me and told me he has going to wash my favourite hoodie of his and then wear it around the house so that by the time I came home it was nice and smelling the way I liked it. Then I reasoned with him that it wasn't this weekend because how could it be? Then I realised he was right", you took a spoonful from the tupperware.
"Are you spending the weekend at home?", Marina asked, smiling at how you seemed to finally be taking care of yourself.
You had been one of the doctors who didn't mind staying for longer in the hospital, reasoning that you didn't have kids and fortunately your family members didn't need assistance so you could cover more shifts and work as much to keep everything running smoothly. It caught up with you as it did with all your colleagues so you set specific times in your calendar where you would go home and, barring any catastrophic situation at the hospital, no one would call you for the days you spent home so you could fully relax with Charles.
"Yes, five days at home and then I'm back", you sighed, "and you? How is your little one doing?", you asked.
"My wife texted me an hour into my shift to say that Milo had a Skype call with his class and their teacher and he said his mama was in the hospital being a hero", she gave you a big smile and looked up to control the tears, "it's hard being away from them, but these little moments help", she added.
"Charles does streams with his friends, and apparently he's always mentioning me and the people on the chat have been very supportive - whenever he calls me he tells me that some fans recognise my voice and my name from the virtual appointments and that they've been here and treated by me, too", you blushed, "He's always hyping me up and I can't wait to be with him".
Stopping by the coffee machine, you both got another expresso shot before parting ways since Marina wasn't on the Covid ward for that shift.
"We've just intubated three more patients", the doctor finished her rounding up to you and the rest of the team that would take over for them, "beds five and six aren't looking good and we've alerted their family members already", he nudged.
Everyone knew what it meant when it came to calling the families, so you nodded, "hopefully they'll get here on time, have them page me downstairs when they arrive, please", you asked one of the interns before you excused yourself to put your personal protective equipment on.
"Is that you, Y/N?", one of the younger kids you had treated said as you got out of the room.
"Yes, it's me! You have a good eye, Arlo!", you smiled before noticing nurse Francesca pulling his wheelchair, "are you going home, sweet boy?", you gasped.
Arlo had been the first child you treated in the ward, only having seen adults up until that moment and it changed a switch in you. A small child struggling so much seemed to shake something inside you, and every time you called his parents with updates, you wished that you'd never have to make the dreaded call.
"I am, my lungs are all good and I'm not warm anymore!", he smiled, "I finally get to go home, my parents are downstairs waiting for me. Did you give Charles my thank you hug for the cap?", he asked.
When you noticed the little boy talking about the last Monaco GP and how he hoped one day he would be able to meet his favourite driver, Charles Leclerc, you couldn't find it in you to keep your relationship undisclosed. So, when you went home the last time, you asked Charles to sign one cap for you and told him to be ready for a FaceTime with the little boy. Arlo was the happiest you had seen him since he had been admitted, lighting up when he saw your boyfriend on the screen and giving him a few smiles despite his tired and sick state.
"I haven't been home yet, but I will give him the biggest hug at the end of the week!", you smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Arlo!", you gushed, making the gesture to blow him as kiss as he waved goodbye.
There were good stories, and even though they in no way erased the sad ones, they helped you carry on with the fight.
Laying on the on-call room after your shift, you took off your mask since no one else was allowed inside it other than you, doing your usual routine and setting your phone in the window sill.
"Hey, amour", Charles said on the phone, "how was your day?", he asked as he watched you towell dry your hair.
"Hey, mon coeur", you offered him a small smile, "I'm so tired I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep in a minute".
"It's okay, I won't mind. Did you get tested?", Charles asked as he seemed to be tucking himself to bed as well.
"Yes, another swab up my nose", you flashed him two thumbs up, "I'll have the results in the morning and hopefully I can get out of here for a few days and spend them with you and not quarantine in a hotel room", you crossed your fingers, "I don't have any symptoms, but still, you never know with this bastard".
"We'll spend it together, amour", he comforted, "I already have a lazy couple of days planned out for us", he smiled as you too tucked yourself on the oncall room bed.
"That sounds amazing", you closed your eyes briefly, "I can't wait to be with you", you yawned.
Charles knew better than to start anything important, just happy to see you were resting, safe and sound, making small talk to lull you to sleep before he ended the call.
After attending the virtual meeting so you could update the next team on how the service was running before you left, the results from test came back negative, which meant you could finally drive home.
Unlocking the door, you stepped inside as you heard commotion coming from the living room, "stay away while I put all of this in the cabinet", you warned Charles.
He was quick to go to the bedroom, getting his hoodie and a pair of shorts for you, "as much as I'd love to hold you all day looking like that", your boyfriend nodded to your figure in just underwear, "I think you'll be more cosy in these", he approached you as you finally let him touch you, his arms going around your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I've missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered.
"I missed you so much, too", you pulled your face away from his chest before kissing his lips in a proper greeting.
Charles guided you to the living room after you got dressed in his clothes, stopping by the kitchen door to check if you had a proper breakfast to which you said yes, so he took you to the sofa, snuggling you two under the blanket as he put one of your favourite shows on the TV.
"I love you, Charles", you would say every now and again, completing the affectionate moments with a kiss or a squeeze.
During the afternoon, you and Charles ended up napping on the sofa, Charles waking up with you still fast asleep on his chest, making him kiss your forehead a couple of times and pull the blanket to cover you up.
"How long was I out for?", you rubbed your eyes two hours later, looking up to see your boyfriend's smile.
"A couple of hours, it looked like a really good nap", he kissed your nose.
"Yes, it was", you squeezed his body, "I'm really craving some carbonara for dinner, do you think we have what the recipe needs?", you questioned.
"We do - I did the food shop earlier this week and I got all of the supplies", he smiled, brushing your hairs away from your eyes and behind your ears, "do you want to get started on it?".
"Yes - I need to pee first, but I'll meet you in the kitchen", you winked, pecking his lips multiple times before getting up.
As he watched you walk to the bathroom, thoughts came flooding in.
This is what he wanted with you. Cosy intimacy that went beyond what happened in the bedroom. The domesticity that went beyond just spending time together and that shines through in the little moments of intertwined routines, special requests and little talks in the middle of the night about random existential questions.
Stepping into the kitchen, Charles gathered the ingredients, pots and pans before you stepped inside too, hugging his waist and nuzzling your face on his back, "you're so comfy, Charlie", you cooed before he turned around so he could face you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing them.
"And you're so gorgeous, mon coeur", he complimented, making you melt inside as you focused on the pads of his thumbs against your skin.
Slicing the guanciale, you removed the rind and cut the rest into small pieces while Charles grated the pecorino cheese and added the egg yolks to the same bowl, the pasta already cooking with the timer on the side.
Scrambling everything into the pot one last time before adding the pasta water a little bit at a time until it was spot on as you liked, making you serve it up in the plates and head back to the sofa.
"Haven't you had enough of the sofa?", you giggled as Charles let you sit before he placed the tray on your lap, doing the same with his own, "I know I haven't had the energy for much else, but maybe tomorrow we can go hike if you'd like", you suggested.
"I want to spend time with you, wherever you are - you're in the sofa, I'm in the sofa, you're in the kitchen, I'm in the kitchen, if you're in the bathroom, I'm in the bathroom", he stated like it was clear as water.
"Maybe not when I'm in the toilet, though, okay?", you squinted as he laughed at your antics.
Charles tidied up after the both of you, sending you to the ensuite bathroom for a bath he'd join you in as soon as he was done.
"You didn't get in?", Charles slumped his shoulders slightly as he saw you sprawled out on the bed.
"I was partially in a food coma, but also - I didn't want to get in alone and the water was a little too hot so I had to let it cool for a bit", you smiled, letting him pull you up and into the bathroom.
Stepping inside the bathroom, Charles grabbed your hips, "let me love on you a little bit more, mon coeur", he said as he pulled you to him, grabbing the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and taking it off of your torso, kissing the skin on your shoulders.
As he stopped his ministrations on your skin, you took the opportunity to take his t-shirt off while you shimmied your shorts and underwear, caressing his muscles before he also took the rest of his clothes off.
"Feels good", Charles dipped his fingers in the tub, getting in himself so he could help you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest.
Your boyfriend brought his hands together and formed a shell shape with them, collecting water in them and wetting your shoulder blades, then letting it cascade down your neckline, boobs and tummy before he let his hands wander around to feel your body, hoping it would show you his love and appreciation for you.
After you got out, Charles rubbed your products on your face, giggling when you made little faces before you put on pyjamas, tucking into bed and cuddling his chest.
"You know I've missed you so much, but our bed feels heavenly right now", you chuckled, kissing his naked chest, "I love you, Charles", you mumbled before sleep took over you.
"I love you, beautiful girl, sleep tight", he whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head before he rubbed your back.
Charles was woken up from your body moving a lot and the clammy feeling of your hand on his chest, looking for your face and noticing the crease on your forehead, "hey, amour", he gently shook you awake, "wake up for me, please, it's okay, you're okay", he urged as you opened your eyes wide as you took in where you were.
"I'm home, I'm home", you mumbled, taking deep breaths like Charles encouraged you to once you sat up, doing them with you a couple of times until you calmed down.
"You are, mon coeur, you are", Charles kissed your forehead when you rested your back against the headboard.
After standing there in silence while Charles played with your fingers on your lap, you were able to speak about it, "I hit five this week", you mumbled, "five people who have died on my watch since this thing started, five family members I've had to call to tell them their loved one didn't make it.
"And it's a small number when you compare it to other countries - so many colleagues are already on their one hundredth, but Monaco is so small", you reasoned, "I haven't had a number this high since I started at the hospital - in my regular service, I never lost five people".
"It's not your fault, amour - a virus is out there and you're working so hard to contain it", Charles pulled you to his chest, rubbing your arm up and down and kissing the side of your head, "the work you're doing with the testing site, making sure to slow the spread and ensuring everyone is as healthy as they can be - you're part of that, Y/N, and even though it doesn't seem like it, you're still winning, you're still beating the universe".
"I couldn't do it without you", you mused and Charles' scoff alerted you, "it's true, Charles! I would never be able to stay at the hospital for so long if you weren't supportive, if you weren't helping my parents and making sure they're doing okay when I can't do it! The way you support me and are there for me - the way your holding me like you always do", you snuggled further into him, "this helps me keep going - you do", you kissed his jaw, seeing his blushed cheeks in the dimly lit bedroom.
"We're a good team then", he accepted the compliment, kissing your temple again, "do you think you can go back to sleep or maybe we could have a chat, watch some TV, have a lazy makeout session", he wiggled his eyebrows.
"That last idea sounds great, I've missed that", you rolled over properly, taking his lips in yours as his hands roamed along your tummy.
283 notes · View notes
justagalwhowrites · 6 months ago
Text
...Can Be Found
You and Joel have an unexpected night alone in Jackson. A canon Lavender one-shot set between chapters 47 and 48.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Length: 3k
Warnings: Smut :). All the fluff in all the world. Eric Clapton. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
A/N: Thank you all so much for loving these characters and hanging out for the Lavenderversary celebration. I hope you love seeing what Joel and Doc were up to today in Jackson ❤️
April 30, 2024 
“Please?” Ellie said, her eyes bright and wide and eager. “All the other kids are going and Maria said they’re making some special snacks and shit and they’re putting on some movie I’ve never fucking heard of and I really want to see it, please?” 
You glanced at Joel, who looked quickly back at you. 
Neither of you had been anticipating this. You hadn’t been in Jackson all that long, Ellie had only been going to school for a few weeks. You hadn’t really spent much time apart, not really. Even Joel, who was regularly leaving Jackson to go on patrol, had never been outside the house overnight. There was a comfort in coming home to each other at the end of the day, the three of you squeezing onto the couch in your living room to watch a movie or clustering on the ground where you could lean against each other while playing a board game. You functioned as a unit now, each of you far more comfortable and secure with the others close. 
Ellie wanting to go to the town lock in hadn’t even been on your radar. 
But it was a good sign, you thought. She was becoming more and more like her old self every day. She enjoyed school, had made a few friends, was starting to think about what she wanted to do to contribute to Jackson as she got older. It was good to see her here, being happy and having a life. Her wanting to spend time away was good. It just didn’t feel good.
“I promise I won’t even say fuck,” Ellie said, still pleading. “And I’ll leave my knife at home.” 
“You should always leave your knife at home,” Joel said, voice stern. “No reason to be carryin’ it around here, anyway…” 
“Yeah, OK,” Ellie rolled her eyes and you had to fight the urge to laugh. 
You and Joel looked at each other again for a moment. You could tell he was feeling the same unease you were, the same desire to keep Ellie where you could see her at all times because that’s the only way you could be sure that she was safe and whole. 
But you couldn’t do that forever. 
You sighed and looked back at her. 
“Yes, you can go,” you said. 
“Yes!” She darted around you to run up the stairs but you stopped her quickly. 
“But you have to come back here before going anywhere else tomorrow morning,” you said. “And you have to be on your best behavior, OK gremlin? I know how you can be, no picking fights…” 
“I’ll be good, I promise!” She said, frozen with one foot on the stairs. 
“Then go get your stuff,” you said, Ellie taking off before you even really had a chance to finish talking, forcing her to yell up the stairs after her. “Make sure you grab your pillow and sleeping bag!” 
Joel came and stood beside you at the banister, his hand finding the small of your back, slipping below your shirt to brush his fingers over you there.
“Think we’re gonna be empty nesters for the night,” he said, voice low. 
“Think you’re right,” you smiled a little. “Whatever will we do?” 
“Oh, I think we can figure somethin’ out.” 
Ellie left not long after, running down the front walk to catch some of her friends from school as they headed toward the mess hall turned lock-in site for the night. 
“Here,” Joel said, standing next to you on the porch as the two of you watched her laugh with her friends. “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll be back in a few.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“What are you up to?” 
“Just trust me,” he laughed and nudged you to the porch swing. “And be patient.” 
You smiled and shook your head a little but settled into the side of the swing that you’d come to think of as yours, pushing lightly off the ground with your toe, breathing in the cool, clean spring air, the scent of rain drifting in from the dark clouds on the horizon. 
There was a distant rumble of thunder as the screen door creaked open and Joel came outside, two mugs held tight in one large hand, the neck of his guitar in the other. 
“I think we’re getting a spring storm,” you said as he leaned the guitar against the house and handed you a mug before taking a seat next to you. You lifted the mug and breathed deep, your eyebrows shooting up. “Is that…” 
“Coffee,” he smiled a little. “With a little lavender syrup that, I’m ashamed to admit, I needed a lot of help to make.” 
You looked at him, feeling like you might be about to cry you were so touched. 
“You made me lavender syrup?” 
He shrugged. 
“Figured it’d been long enough since you’d had your favorite coffee,” he said. “Heard through the grapevine that some traders who come through sometimes have coffee. Figured I’d have it ready for when I could get my hands on some.” 
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” You asked. “Because I do.” 
“You’ve said,” he smiled. “Still like hearin’ it, though.” 
You took a sip of the coffee and savored it and thought, for a moment, about the first time you’d met Joel. So long ago now at that coffee shop in Austin, when you were just 20 years old and hoping to find a job you liked that would make you not need to take out more loans to survive the summer. You should have known when you first sat across from him, sipping your lavender latte and talking about his daughter, that your life would never be the same. 
Joel put his arm over the back of the swing and you settled into his side, your head on his shoulder, grateful for his warmth as temperature dropped and the rain moved in. 
“Think you’ll let me play you somethin’?” He asked. 
“I believe it is well established that I am the president and founder of the Rockstar Joel Miller fan club,” you teased. “You can always play me something.” 
“Good,” he said, taking his arm back and reaching behind him to pick up the guitar and resting it on his lap. “Because I’ve been working on something for you. Been a long time since I’ve played for anyone so be patient with me.” 
“The peanut gallery will be quiet,” you smiled, tucking yourself into the corner of the swing and putting your stocking feet against Joel’s warm thigh as the rain grew heavier. You held your mug tightly in your fingers, the heat and coffee running low. 
He started playing, quiet and slow and you recognized it immediately, your breath catching in your throat. 
“It's late in the evening,” Joel sang in his soft baritone. “She's wondering what clothes to wear…”
You just listened in silent awe as he played you Wonderful Tonight, the song you’d claimed as yours, for the first time in 20 years. When he finished, he left the guitar in his lap for a moment before glancing over at you, an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes when he did. 
“Didn’t say the peanut gallery needed to be that quiet,” he said, his voice thick. 
“Joel,” you whispered, setting your coffee on the small side table before damn near throwing yourself at him. He set the guitar down quickly, barely fast enough to catch you as you threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, sinking back into the swing with you in his arms. 
“You like it then?” He asked. 
You pulled back enough to look at him properly, tears pricking your eyes. 
“I loved it,” you said softly. “That was… I can’t believe you learned that!” 
“Well,” he shrugged. “Already learned it, once upon a time. More just remembering something I always knew. I was just coming home to it is all.” 
You kissed him and he kissed you back before you settled in against his side again, the two of you swaying as the rain fell and the thunder rolled. 
“Know what storms remind me of now?” He asked quietly after a while, his fingers trailing up and down your arm. 
“Hm?” 
“The night I got you back.” 
You looked up at him from your place against his chest and found him watching you, his brown eyes soft and deep. 
“Me too,” you whispered. 
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you,” he said, his fingers still tracing the same familiar path along your skin. “I’ve got a lot of regrets in my life but that’s one of my biggest. I wasted so much time with you. Sometimes all I think about is all that time we missed out on because I was too wrapped up in my own shit…” 
“We found each other again,” you reached up and trailed your fingers through his shaggy curls. “That’s all that matters. We can’t change anything that happened to us then, we can only make sure we don’t lose each other again now.” 
“Not losing you again, baby,” Joel said, cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply. “Promise I’m not.” 
You looked in his eyes, something warm and needy settling low in your stomach as you did. 
“Let’s go inside,” he said, his tone matching the already building heat inside you. 
You just nodded and let him lead the way. 
*** 
Joel had been waiting for a night like this one. 
Maybe not one where Ellie was away quite so long. Her being gone overnight made him uneasy, even if it was just to the town lock-in down the street. 
But it did mean he got time alone with you, something he’d been craving more and more lately. 
It seemed like all he wanted to do, now that the three of you were safely settled in Jackson, was find a way to make up for lost time. 
He wasn’t sure he really could. He’d lost you for too long, done too much he regretted to ever really atone for it all. But he wanted to try. He desperately wanted to do something - anything - that would make himself worthy of you. 
Wonderful Tonight had been the first thing he tried to play when he’d gotten the guitar in Jackson. You’d been at the clinic, Ellie at school and he’d fumbled his way through it in the living room, his fingers hurting the entire time. It took time to rebuild the callus, to relearn the song. But it had been so worth it to see the look on your face when he’d played it for you on the porch that night. 
The two of you came in as the storm seemed to be reaching its peak, the rain pouring in a steady drumbeat on the roof, the thunder rattling the panes of glass in their frames as he led you to bed. 
He undressed you slowly, reverently, taking his time with you the way he’d imagined doing every time he imagined fucking you in those years in the QZ. He cast aside your shirt and his hands skimmed the outline of you, your skin so impossibly soft under his touch. He wondered - not for the first time - how something as soft as you could exist at all, let alone in this world. How something as soft as you could possibly be meant for him, want him. But you did and he lived to give you what you wanted, that’s all that mattered. 
You tugged at his shirt and he helped you remove it before he unhooked your bra and cast it aside, too, drinking in the sight of your bared skin before him. 
“Christ, baby,” he breathed, pulling you against his naked chest. You pressed your soft, warm skin against him, your arms wrapping around his neck and he guided you to the bed, laying you below him in the middle of it. When he pulled away from you, you whined, your eyes following his every movement. He smiled a little. “Ain’t gonna get far with these still on, I’m comin’ right back.” 
He unbuttoned your jeans and hooked his fingers around the waistband of those and your panties, pulling both down your legs at once, leaving you completely bare before him. 
“Joel,” you whimpered, your hands finding your breasts by what seemed like their own accord, desperate to hold onto something. You worked them gently as you watched him unbutton his own jeans, biting your lower lip as you did. 
“Fuck, you keep right on doin’ that,” he damn near growled as he shucked his own jeans and underwear before crawling up the bed toward you and settling in the cradle of your hips. “So pretty when you’re making yourself feel good…” 
He licked his fingertips and slid his hand down your body to the apex of your thighs, finding your swollen bud and pressing against it. Your back arched and you whined again as he started working your clit in slow, firm circles. 
“Even prettier when you let me do it, though,” he said, his unoccupied hand going to the crown of your head, toying with your hair before he kissed you deeply. 
Your hands left your breasts then, finding his back and pulling him sharply toward yourself, as though you couldn’t get enough of him. You rocked your hips up against him and he smiled against your lips, his cock swollen and painfully hard. 
“Joel,” you panted when he pulled back. “I need you, please, I need you, I need you…” 
“Need me where?” He asked, breathless himself. 
He knew where. 
He just wanted to hear you say it. 
“Inside,” your eyes were wide, pupils blown. “Inside me, please, I need you inside me.” 
His hand left your slick slit and he stroked his cock once with your wetness, the heat of you so close to him. 
“Then let me give you what you want,” he said, lining himself up with your entrance and pressing inside you with a deep groan of satisfaction. 
He sank into you, feeling your walls parting for his intrusion, how your body shifted and molded to him, your pussy holding him perfectly. 
Every time he did this, every time he first entered you, he had the same two thoughts: this was where he belonged, this was so much more than he deserved. 
He’d had a hard time reconciling those things. Since he’d met you, he couldn’t shake the idea that he needed to be alongside you - inside you - but he knew that you’d been meant for something more than him. When you were both young, you’d been so full of potential, all brilliant light that it seemed selfish to focus it all on himself. Now, you were the warmest comfort, the most beautiful part of a ruined world. With all he’d done, all the ways he’d failed, he could not deserve you. 
He’d let that keep you apart for a long time, the clash of those feelings pulling at him. But now, he knew how they fit, how he fit with you. He had to try to be worthy of you, that was the key. He could not stop, could not wavier. He had to always try. He had to hold you, protect you, bring you the CDs you adored and paint the walls the colors you loved and find ways to make the things that brought you joy because someone like you needed someone who would try for them. In this world there was no sure thing, but he could try. For you, he would try for the rest of his life. 
He moved in you slowly at first, savoring the way your skin felt against his, the way your fingers twisted in his hair. But you were both too desperate and needy to take it slow for long, his pace increasing with the steady motion of your hips and the aching clutch of your fingers as you grew tighter and tighter around him. 
“You’re so close to coming for me,” he all but growled, voice heavy with need. You whined and nodded against him. “Don’t have anyone here to wake up, want to hear you baby. Don’t hold back for me, let me hear you, want to hear you when I come inside you.” 
You whimpered again, louder this time, your fingers scrambling for purchase on his skin, the wet snap of his hips into yours obscene and only bringing him closer to the peak. 
He felt you tighten, your whole body clinging to him for a moment - not even breathing - before you called his name and gasped as your core fluttered around him. 
Joel stayed buried deep inside you where he belonged, grinding his hips down against you as you came, your pulsing pulling his own orgasm from him as he emptied himself into you with a moan. 
After, you tucked yourself against his side, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and your shared spend and neither of you caring. 
“Didn’t even need a door this time,” you teased lightly. 
Joel laughed once. 
“Still appreciate them though,” he teased back. 
The two of you were quiet for a moment and he held you close, thinking not of all the years he’d lost with you but all the ones he had ahead. He kissed the crown of your head and you snuggled closer as he smiled against your hair. 
“I love you, Joel,” you said softly, your fingers splaying wide over his chest. “I’m so glad we found each other.” 
“Me too, baby,” he whispered, holding you closer. “Me too.” 
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jmdbjk · 11 months ago
Text
Looking back and forward.
2023 was one for the books.
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It is Thursday, Dec. 7 where I am... Friday, Dec. 8 in Korea.
It is the last Friday for Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook to be civilians. This is their last weekend to spend in their homes, at the company to work, running along the river, doing boxing workouts, ordering delivery food, loving on their dogs, doing the things they've been doing the last over ten years. It will be about 100 days until they get time off and can maybe spend some time back at home.
They are tying up loose ends, getting their shit together, preparing to put their lives on hold.
They will return to us in mid-June 2025.
I've watched their last group live several times after the english subs were up. There were a lot of things I saw and I have a lot of mixed emotions about it all.
None of us know these men, we are observers and all we know is what they choose to show us. Unfortunately, they can't control every single thing and people and the media insist on prying and publishing images and things about them that lead to unconfirmed rumors and misinformation.
In the approximately 38 minutes they shared with us, they conveyed that they are getting ready to go, they seemed in positive spirits. They conveyed that they were still working on things for us (except Jungkook).
They said there was A LOT of content coming, so much... they've NEVER ever reassured us like this before.
They asked fans to NOT show up at the induction site out of respect for the other men and their families also entering the military those days. They explicitly said "we are their face and to do them proud."
During this live, I saw Tae being the fantastically funny guy that he is. Tae was alight with excitement. He was anxious to learn from his fellow soldiers. He is a flower waiting to bloom. And seeing his friendship with Jimin maturing, flourishing, same age friends forever was wonderful.
And Namjoon trying to keep up with the crazy shenanigans of the maknae line. Trying to be the voice of reason: "it'll go by quick, we've left a lot of content. Jin will be back soon. We'll all get strong." But there seemed to be a bit of push and pull between he and Jimin... it was interesting. But he was lighthearted, positive, going into with an open mind. Get in, get out, get back to work.
Jimin, Jimin, Jimin... There was a bit of resignation wrapped up in Jimin's positivity. He wouldn't agree that it would go by fast and he didn't want to show himself with the buzz cut. I wanted to reach through the screen and hold his hand and reassure him we'd be here waiting and that we know it's hard to leave everything right now to do this. This man lives to do work on his passion. He's already had to stop once. Now he has to do it again. I think he is going into his MS kicking and screaming because he does not want to leave his youth behind. It is unfinished.
He said he had been sick. He coughed, sneezed and sniffled the entire live. I hope all of these symptoms have disappeared by Monday/Tuesday. I remember his friend Sungwoon had to delay his enlistment date because he tested positive for covid. Please don't let that happen to any of our four.
During this last group live, I saw a Jungkook that I'd never seen before. His vibe was so in tune to Jimin. I know he's been that way since... 2017? 2018? But this was so in your face I was dumbfounded. Jungkook constantly soothing Jiminie. The things they probably talked about while they were in Japan a few weeks ago, man, to be a fly on the wall.
ALL of those lives he did this past year flashed through my head, how unhinged he was the first few months, falling asleep drunk with the candle, calling out stalkers. ALL those times WE said he was missing Jimin because he was begging him to come eat chicken and drink beer, or come do a boxing workout, or better yet, "let me come over and we can shower together..." No... I meant to say: he can go over to Jimin's and wash up and do a live together. Yes, that's what he said. Beggged him. Tried to use Army as leverage. And all we got was Jimin saying he "can handle it" and "you know how my personality is"...
Jungkook watching all that Jimin content... something happened, some decision was made early in the year. Jungkook embraced it and ran with it.
And to know they are going into the service together, it still has me astonished but it all makes sense now. Y'all... they knew they were going to do this wayyyyyy back, not just in August or September when they applied. Jungkook said back in February (before someone lit a fire under his butt in March to start working on music) that he had to take care of his body for the next year. This has been the plan and Jungkook said "no worries, I got this."
2023 was A LOT.
Jimin, Face: the melodies poured out (as they seem to be free-flowing from him at any given moment) but he had to pry those lyrics out of himself. Jimin achieved a #1 BBHot100. And yes, it appears there were not just one, but TWO of those blasted cakes. I didn't know much about PDogg before Jimin's documentary but now I know how much he supported Jimin during this process.
Yoongi, D-Day: I got to see Yoongi in real life. That weekend flew by for me. One of the best weekends ever. As soon as the concert was over I said out loud, I need to see all seven on that stage. His concert tour filled a void for us. We needed that so bad after last year's gut-wrenching news that there would be no tour. And now he's fulfilling his social service. Let him serve quietly with dignity.
Hobi, Military: after tearfully sending him off, what we hear now is he's cracking the whip, though ever-so empathetically (not to be confused with emphatically) over those new enlistees every day. I need to see his boom chakalaka marching drills. Jimin said when he visited Hobi, he wasn't greeted with his ebullient "Jaman!" but more of a lowkey "oh, you're here."
Jungkook, his solo songs and album: Jungkookie chose to go the route of choosing songs that resonated with him. Over the course of years, Kookie has always shared songs with us. We used to love his song recs and his covers of very poignant songs. He KILLED those songs with his vocals. He did what HE wanted to do. And look how well he did with it, also a #1 BBHot100.
Taehyung, Layover: again, Taehyung did what he wanted to do. Not on his album, but Taehyung singing along with Karen Carpenter was never on my bingo card, ever! (a clip on his Instagram stories where he was singing along to "Close to You")
RM, we kept wondering: why isn't he enlisted yet? Someone had to wrangle the maknae. Not that he ever did that this past year. He cut himself over his left eye and had to get stitches... that's gonna leave a scar. Good thing there are 40 bajillion plastic surgeons in Seoul...
Jin is coming. The Head of Ministry of the Military making the decision that no celeb will be doing anything special, instead they will serve just like regular civilians. Sergeant Kim Seokjin will become civilian Jin of BTS on June 12, 2024.
Their constant looking forward to 2025
Skipping over 2024 for the moment...
BTS has to evolve. They must evolve. They are not going to be a 30 something year old K-pop boy band. Some groups might be stuck but BTS will not stay stagnant, they never have. They have to step forward out of that niche and they have been trying to do that incrementally for a while now. They’ve taken us in baby steps already through chapter 2, and Joon said the REAL chapter 2 will begin when they are back from fulfilling their service.
What will they be like? Will they reinvent themselves? Perhaps, but not overnight. I don’t see any sort of extreme makeover for BTS once they come back together. I do see them addressing more mature topics (as we’ve seen), I do hope we see songwriting from all members.
They don't need to abandon their Korean-ness in order to accomplish this. There is nothing stopping them from being a mainstream artist who just happens to be from Korea and who release songs that are in Korean.
I think the accomplishments that Jungkook achieved will continue to pull BTS out of the K-pop realm and into the main stream Pop music realm. They worked that western market. They got pushback, especially western industry institutions: Billboard and the Grammys. And they learned.
Progress is slow but progress nevertheless. They will cross over to general pop one way or the other. They are not going to stay in the kpop box in the future. Straddle both at the same time. They can do it.
For 2024:
I think comeback/HYYH 10th anniversary reboot is already in the works and has been.
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I think PDogg will be working on the songs over the next year. I think they have recorded all this year.
I think when Jin and Hobi get back, they might record their parts. I also am pretty sure we'll see a full-bodied solo effort from Jin and more from Hobi. I think we'll get a ramp up to his discharge with some Hope on the Street content that he recorded before he enlisted.
I think we'll slowly see wheels start turning to get the machine going again much sooner than we imagined.
I think what we see next year will all be primed to pre-promote and whip up the excitement for 2025.
I just feel strongly that Bang PD would NOT have mentioned that specific thing and we would not be hearing the members constantly saying 2025. And especially saying 2025 is not that far in the future and that they are looking forward to the incredible synergy the group will have when they get back together. They've got a lot of work done already. They know already.
They said there is A LOT coming to us.
In about two weeks BTS: Beyond the Star docu-series will begin.
We know we're getting some sort of Jimin and Jungkook traveling content, whether a series or not...I'm leaning toward it being a multi-episode series. Camping? Drinking? Breweries? Beaches? Boating or sailing or both but separate? Fishing? Snow sports? They said it was fun.
We will see activity around all the solo album anniversaries. We still have an RM documentary, a Taehyung documentary and a Jungkook documentary. I bet the latter two will come out towards the end of 2024.
We might have Tae acting, we know he'll be in an IU MV soon.
About aging bangtan ...
Remember when we said this is Bangtan in 20 years?
I joke about it but seriously they are aware that things will be different as they evolve and age as people and as artists.
There are new groups debuting all the time and BTS is aging out of a certain demographic (as they should).
Yoongi saying "cruise with BTS" would be the best case scenario for their future.
I would love to be on that cruise if it ever happens.
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luvyeni · 1 year ago
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MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( epilogue )
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— EPILOGUE: special guest ...
— 𖦹 warnings? language
previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist
it had been a while since you streamed — you and jeongin never had a conversation whether he felt comfortable with you continuing with the streams, but this was how you made money for college so you could didn’t think he’d mind.
“It’s been a while.” You sat on your bed, dressed in your best lingerie — your face still unknown. “did you guys miss me?” You asked cutely, watching the comments go up, the tips too. “Oh you guys must’ve really did, im sorry I was too long.”
Meanwhile jeongin sat at his computer working on his project — missing you so much, you both were still in the phase in your relationship were you want to spend all your time together but you had separate lives so here he was.
He was finishing up when he got a call, hoping it was you — frowning when it wasn’t. “What jisung?” He answer. “the hell is wrong with you?” The boy said. “Nothing, what do you want?”
“Oh yeah, I called just to tell you that you are strong man, a dumb but strong man.” Jeongin was confused. “What are you talking about jisung?” He said. “your girlfriend.” Jeongin was confused. “What about yn?” He said. “Just look on the site.” He could almost hear his friends giggles as he hung up.
He thought about for a minute , before quickly typing in the site that started it all, and sure enough on the top page there it showed that you were live.
He clicked the live — your chest fully on display as you talked to the camera. “sh-shit.” He cursed his cock twitching against his jeans. This was something he saw everyday, but for some reason, but watching you toy with the viewers — knowing they would never get to have you  the way he did made him hard.
He palmed at his cock — finally deciding to just unbuckle his pants, finally freeing his cock from his confinements, if he couldn’t be with you at the moment, why not get off to your beautiful body.
‘Come over please’ was all jeongin needed to basically fly out the door to yours, not even knocking on your door — knowing you kept it open for him, even though he told you not to, taking his shoes off, making his way into your room where you laid on your bed.
“innie.” You smiled , opening your arms for him to hug you. “Hey baby." He said, kissing your lips softly. “How was your day, I missed you?” He asked. “boring, I had class, went to coffee with lily matt and sungchan.” You went to explain your day, leaving the part about the stream.
“Yeah that’s all you did.” He smirked , rubbing your side. “Oh I applied for a internship.” You said, he chuckled. “So you didn’t do a stream?” He said, you froze. “jisung?” you questioned, you’re gonna find his id one day and block him. “He’s such a snitch.”
“You mad?” jeongins traced shapes on his stomach. “Absolutely not, that’s your job, you don’t come to my job telling me not to do it because of the girls there.” He said. “So why should I stop you?”
You smiled kissing him, his dimples were in on display, his eyes suddenly turning dark. “Beside, only I know what you taste like and that’s something they could only dream of.” He whispered against your neck, kissing it. “Innie.” You sighed.
Things escalating from there, he was undressing you and himself, groping at your boob — you grabbed his hands, stopping him with a mischievous smile on his face. “what’s on that pretty mind of yours.” He hovered over you. “Let me up, I have to get something.” He was confused, but he let you up anyway.
You reached over in your drawer pulling out three things; a camera and two masks. “what are you planning?” He said, finally putting the two and two together. “Oh princess, you’re naughty.” You smiled. “You seriously want to do this?”
“Only if you want to.” You said, jeongin too the mask out of your hand, you smiled setting the camera up in a way that shows both of your body, pressing play.
Both of you resumed where you left off, jeongin freed his cock from his underwear, wrapping your legs around his waist. He grabbed the base of his cock, pressing it against your core. “Pl-please.” You reached down, stroking his cock, pushing it in. “fu-fuck innie.” You moaned as he fully bottomed out. “Oh fuck you feel so good.”
He started slowly, moving his hips teasingly, groping your boob, toying with your nipple. “so fucking pretty.” He wanted to move the mask and kiss you so bad, but he knew you didn’t feel comfortable showing your face. “You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight.” He grunted.
You grabbed his waist , growing impatient. “pl-please go faster.” He obey, speeding up his hips, grabbing your thighs as he began to plow into you. “Fuck innie!” He groaned, you cunt squeezing him tightly. “your pussy feels so good.” He groaned.
“Wanna ride you.” You said, he cursed. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He stopped moving, slowly pulling out , sitting up against the headboard — helping you into his lap. “Fuck please sit down.” He groaned, holding your waist, letting you slowly sink down. “Fu-fuck im not gonna of you don’t move.”
You slowly moved your hips, his hands flying to your boobs, bringing them to his lips. “fuck innie.” You moaned , as he toyed with one of your nipples, sucking on the other one like he was waiting for something to come out. “Fuck im gonna cum.”
He moved his hips, helping you reach your orgasm, while inching closer to his. “shit!” you screamed out, your juices coating his cock. “fuck im gonna cum inside you.” He said, both of you forgetting the camera was even there at this point. “please.” You begged, he groaned. “fuck im cumming!” He held your hips down. “Shit.” He groaned, his cum shooting into your waiting womb.
“shit baby.” He said, his voice breathy and fuck out. “Y-yeah.” You said, your voice similar.
“please turn that fucking camera off so I can take this mask off and kiss you.”
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— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri @aloverga @ashiitex @ddazed-lhs @heartsforhyunjin @chlodavids @simp4myself @surefornext @lostwonderwall @xxr-s4sha @charmer-c @vixensss @frobin4ever @bmnyy @semi-semiisbae @m111nho @i2innie @aalexyuuuhm @iraa567 @cheshireshiya @ihrtlix @abbiestearsricochet @niaalove @skzswife @babrieeee @thisisnotjacinta @luvskai @ikeusol @costalmaine @whos-kkira @minhosprettywife @hey-hey-heybitch @jeongins-version @denisaandreea20 @lovesunshinefelix @222brainrot @thatgirlkay @ss3oung @number1jeonginstan @whitney190 @jongseongsluvr @chesemonky @worcesheshestershiresauce @puppy-minnie @prettygirlsstanskz @hanniemylovelyquokka
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©️LUVYENI
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povlvr · 2 years ago
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Make Me Forget | ❤️Valentine’s Day One Shot
Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader
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Word Count: 6k
Summary: Unceremoniously dumped by your scumbag boyfriend Bucky's mission is to spend Valentine's Day cheering you up & showing you what it would belike to be Bucky Barnes's girl, maybe he's shooting his shot, maybe he's just that darn charming Warnings: Angst (just the start), Fluffy Bucky, Swearing, Smut, NSFW, P in V, Oral (Female), unprotected sex, Dom Bucky
A/N: Happy Valentine's, enjoy this one shot with Beefy Bucky, I thought this would be a nice intermission for the Valentine's Season. Also FYI, no STD's or unplanned pregnancies (unless a plot) in my multiverse so no condoms are ever used. As per usual I cannot keep my word count concise!!
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Dumped, discarded, cast aside, kicked to the curb, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it & you were sat in a restaurant trying to hold it together whilst the humiliation of being brought into a public space to be told you’re not good enough, not special enough, not pretty enough, not her was being laid out in black & white. You could feel your lip wobbling, the familiar sob climbing up your throat trying to escape as you begged yourself to cut off all emotions until you could get back home.
You nodded along hoping he would stop the character assassination that was effortlessly rattling off, like he had been practicing it for weeks in the mirror. You thought you had been happy together & that he was getting ready to ask you to move in with him, but you were told you were dumb to not see how miserable you made him. There was only so much you could take & when he mentioned her, his 22-year-old secretary he had been sleeping with for weeks, who just ‘got him’, you stood up, tossed your drink over his head & walked out.
The cab ride home was a battle of wills between your absolute need to keep it together at all times versus your impending emotional outburst with the growing realisation that you were destined to die alone & get eaten by the 15 cats you would inevitably accumulate being single for the rest of your life.
The rest of your night was spent isolated, crying, eating pizza, drinking wine & browsing cat rescue sites trying to find the first step towards the rest of your life, you couldn’t believe you wasted a year of your life with a scumbag who would dump you the day before Valentine’s day.
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You should have phoned in sick, there was no way you were in the mood to face anyone, even if Tony would have wrongly assumed it was because it was Valentine’s Day & you would be too busy fucking your boyfriend all day to work, except the reality would be you crying, burning your Ex-Boyfriends belongings & self-reflecting to assess what was actually wrong with you & why couldn’t you keep a man interested.
Instead, you were numb, sat zoned out in the meeting room by your boss’ side trying to look like you were paying attention, you were barely holding it together avoiding all eye contact with the team filled with spies & assassins, at least two of them would be able to spot the obvious tells that not all was well.
‘Alright, any other business.’
Sam repeatedly elbowing Bucky who ignored him completely perked up, ‘Yeah, these monthly meetings suck, it’s Valentine’s day, why we even working?’
‘Make sure you note down that sass from Bird Man, Short Stack.’
Apart from Tony’s very annoying nickname, you hadn’t heard what had been said, hoping that it was never brought up again you scribbled down ‘I want to go home’ so it looked as though you were at least doing something.
Bucky had already noticed the sullen expression the second he laid eyes on you, the heavier than usual makeup & overall lack of spunk you usually have was a dead giveaway. Sam may have told him not to use that phrase anymore, for reasons still unclear to him but that was the best way to describe it, it was like your light had gone out.
Usually when Tony used that moniker you’d be ready with a jibe to throw straight back at him, he may have been your boss, but you weren’t ever afraid to put the billionaire in his place, so you completely passing over the nickname meant you were somewhere else in your head & not ok, something was wrong & he needed to get to the bottom of it.
You held back in the meeting room until all the superheroes had piled out to try & avoid any interactions, unfortunately a certain burly super soldier didn’t quite get the memo & was waiting for you outside. The brunette’s face completely serious, brows furrowed & arms crossed as he examined you walking towards him, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong Bucky, I’m fine.’ You tried a half assed smile; a smile you wouldn’t even be able to convince Ethel your blind neighbour was real let alone the trained assassin in front of you.
‘Don’t you dare lie to me Petal, you may be able to fool them but not me. Now tell me what happened, I won’t ask again, did something happen at dinner last night?’
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like when Bucky used his serious voice, when the Sargent in him came out, you always followed his orders.
Breathing out a shaky sigh you looked around, as if anyone cared enough to listen in on what you were about to say, damn your bottom lip for wobbling & the tears gathering in your eyes, traitor. ‘He broke up with me, said he was sleeping with his secretary & I wasn’t pretty or good enough for him.’
Somehow Bucky managed to quell the internal rage that was flowing through the synaptic’s in his brain, the plates in his arm were begging to be recalibrated from the tension running through his body, don’t trigger a reset, don’t trigger a reset. He could taste the impending murder on his tongue but that had to wait, he needed to be the mechanical shoulder for you to cry on right now.
He grabbed you, enclosing you entirely in his arms, his overwhelming warmth thawing your cold exterior & his big arms squeezing you tightly, it was the exact comfort you needed. ‘Oh darlin’, why didn’t you call me?’
Smushed against his solid chest your voice was muffled, ‘Didn’t want to bother ya.’
‘You know you wouldn’t have.’
You managed a shrug against him, ‘It’s Valentine’s you might have had plans.’
He moved his vibranium arm from around you, holding your face with his cool metallic hand to make sure you were looking at him, brushing the few fallen tears from your cheeks, ‘There are no plans too important to stop me coming & getting you.’
You managed a genuine half smile, the cloud over you not quite lifting, but it was now surrounded by a little Bucky Barnes shaped rainbow & you appreciated it more than you could ever convey to him.
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Bucky sat pensively in the lounge, despite his protests that you should take the day off, he walked you to your office at your insistence that working would help keep your mind of him, he secretly enjoyed the way you now said him, it was very much in the same tone he had been using for the last year.
So, he had been sitting since racking his brains, trying to think of ways to help you, to build you back up & forget about that loser & in the Super Soldier’s mind he was the biggest most idiotic loser on the face of the planet to let you go so willingly. Chump.
Tony strolled into the common area noticing the absolute anguish on the centurion’s face staring into space, ‘What’s up terminator?’
He rubbed his face trying to reset his mind & entertain a conversation with Tony, ‘Nothing, just thinking.’
‘Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with my diminutive 2nd in command who has been on 4 separate trips to the bathroom to cry this morning … so far.’ He stood crossing his arms, hoping to get to the bottom of it & thought Bucky would be the one you opened up to, because the pathetic excuse you gave him for being so sniffly wasn’t cutting it & you usually had the 6ft Super Solider shadow following you everywhere.
He clenched his jaw at the belittling nickname Tony seemed to revel in, ‘Stop calling her little, she doesn’t like it.’
He narrowed his eyes, ‘Bit touchy when it comes to her, aren’t you? You like her?’
Bucky shook his head angry that he was poking his nose in where it didn’t belong, ‘Not the time Tony.’
‘Why not?’
‘Not your business.’
‘Let’s see, protective bodyguard mode has been activated, weepy crying employee on Valentine’s Day, I take it that snake she was wasting her time with has shown his true colours?’
Bucky let out an audible sigh, ‘Something like that.’
‘What a dick.’ He clenched his jaw, already ordering you some flowers on his phone, a smirk crossed his face & he glanced back up at the sulking Super Soldier. ‘Hey, now she’s single, you should shoot your shot.’
To Bucky the billionaire just casually let out, like it was nothing, an afterthought, like it was completely normal to pounce on someone 12 hours after being blindsided by a breakup. ‘Absolutely not, she needs comfort & cheering up, not a 107-year-old hitting on her.’
In Tony’s mind, the stars were finally aligning for two people who anyone could see looked at each other with love hearts in their eyes most of the time to finally get together, they just needed a push. ‘Trust me when I say she wouldn’t mind a certain 107-year old’s attention.’
‘Steve?’
‘Jesus I’m surrounded by idiots, not Steve, you, you complete putz’
The super solider was trying to stifle his smile at the thought of you being into him but failing miserably, shaking his head in protest, ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Well, I so happen to know so. I’m not saying declare your undying love for her & propose, just shoot your shot, take her mind off the breakup & whatever he did, make her see that you’re the one she should be with.’
Just like that, like it was a piece of cake, easy as 1,2,3, he swore sometimes he was secretly dumb & not a so-called genius everyone said he was, it took Bucky 3 months to say hello to you when he first met you, so by his calculations he would be asking you out in 2054.
‘He cheated for weeks with his secretary & said she wasn’t pretty enough or good enough for him.’ The words pained him to say out loud, he couldn’t imagine how hurtful they were for you to hear.
The billionaire’s eyes went wide, ‘Excuse me, how are you not murdering him right now?’
‘Oh, trust me a plan is percolating, but I wanted to make sure she was ok before I spend the rest of my life in prison for repeatedly throwing him off the empire state building.’
‘Oh, I like the sound of repeatedly. Ok, new plan, you spend the day tending to her, sweep her off her feet, get her out of her office … but not into your bed & I’ll pay him a visit, can’t promise murder but I’m sure I have a few gadgets that will put the fear of Thor in him.’
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You were sat sulking in your office, not really working, just staring at words on a screen, you didn’t want to be at work, but you didn’t want to be at home either, despite the bonfire you had planned in your head with his expensive suits he kept in your walk in, which admittedly did sound like fun.
A gentle knock & a wiggle of the handle told you it was Bucky waiting outside your office, you buzzed him in & as the door opened all you could see were flowers, a huge bunch that somehow eclipsed the Super Solider stood in the doorway holding them.
It was comical watching him struggle, trying his best not to knock any of the perfect blooms on his way in, you wondered how he could be so agile on the battlefield when he was such a clutz off it at times, adorable really when you thought about it.
‘How can I help you soldier?’
He used to hate people referring to him by his military positions but whenever you did it there was something in him that went feral, it felt like you were submitting to him & you were always such a good girl when he told you to do something in his lower pitched voice.
The twitch in his pants at the thought of what that would translate to in the bedroom needed taming before he embarrassed himself, it might not be the 40s anymore but by god if punching a colleague for humming too loudly got him a meeting in HR, getting a boner in front of one in a professional setting definitely would.
‘Well, it’s Valentine’s Day & I wanted to buy you some flowers & put a smile on your face.’
‘Mission success Sargent.’ You really did have a wide smile on your face from the sweet gesture, he was such a good guy, sometimes you wish everyone could see it but a little part of you were happy it seemed to be reserved for only you.
‘Oh this, this is just the start, my Girl on Valentine’s Day doesn’t just get flowers, she gets the whole day.’
You raised your brows, trying your absolute best to not grin like the Cheshire Cat at him calling you his girl, ‘A whole day huh? Lucky me. Not to throw a spanner in the works here but ya girl gotta work.’
‘No you don’t, cleared it with Tony so you’ve got the rest of the day off.’ He looked so happy with himself & you really didn’t understand why the hunk of a man in front of you had a reputation for being frightening, the man was a big teddy bear.
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It had been an interesting journey to say the least, experiencing Bucky’s vintage car with the top down sounded so much fun, especially when he pulled you close & had his arm around you but the way your hair lashed about in the wind made you realise why the women in the old movies always had head scarves on. At one-point Bucky’s eyes were streaming when a particular gust of wind whipped him in the eye with a chunk of your hair, no number of apologies you gave seemed enough & thankfully he just seemed to find it funny.
Once you tamed the bird’s nest sat on top of your head you stood in excitement looking on the fairground that had been at the heart of so many of Steve & Bucky’s stories, Coney Island where dreams where not quite made of but that didn’t matter, you loved it.
‘It doesn’t exactly look the same but I’m sure we’ll find our way around just fine.’ Bucky was practically giddy, pulling your connected hand towards the entrance, ‘you know me & Steve once rode the Ferris wheel with these two dames, Sandy & Delores I think their names were, & Steve freaked out because it was so high up & threw up on his date.’
You always noticed his accent thickened when he talked about his youth, seeing him like this made you wish you had known him back then, but having heard many stories about Bucky from Steve, he would probably have been chasing tail rather than wasting his time hanging about with you
He led you to a food shack that, according to the sign, served New York’s best hot dogs, ‘whaddya say Doll, one hotdog or two?’
‘One please, with onions & mustard.’
‘Coming up, what my girl wants, my girl gets.’
You sat on the bench whilst he waited for your order, the day certainly had taken a turn & you were beyond grateful for Bucky, he really was the sweetest guy you knew so it didn’t even shock you with how extra he was being in an effort to take your mind off things.
You realised as he approached, carrying way more hot dogs than any normal human could eat at once & a huge bag of candyfloss under his arm, that you hadn’t thought of him at all with Bucky around. He really was the best & you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy him referring to you as his girl, the man was the hottest guy you’d ever laid eyes on so a few hours escaping reality & experiencing what it was like being Bucky Barnes’s Girl wasn’t something you were going to pass up, even if it was just for the day.
He plonked himself down beside you, handing you your order & placing the candy floss at your side, then throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you as close as possible to you, he always seemed to like you close. You shuffled into his side, so you could rest your head on his shoulder as you both sat eating your food & watching all the people casually walking by.
‘Do you wish you could go back?’
‘Sometimes, if only to see my Ma & Sisters but there’s a few things now that are better.’
‘Hmm’ you took a bite, was it the best? Maybe, but maybe it was the setting & company you found yourself with that was making it taste better than it actually did.
‘Yeah, the food,’ He proceeded to take a dramatically large bite making you giggle as he chomped it down, ‘the technology, the company too.’ He gave your shoulder a squeeze & leaned down to kiss your head that was happily resting on him.
‘Hmmm well I’m glad you’re here, I’ll tell Tony to hold off on the time machine to send you both back.’
You loved making the Super Solider laugh, he didn’t do it often, but it was like music to your ears when you were blessed with it, so when he found that comment as funny as he did, you joined him in letting it all out, there you were, two idiots laughing on a bench & it was wonderful. You felt so much lighter, like nothing could bother you with Bucky around, you felt safe, cherished & looked after, you needed someone like Bucky. Fat Chance.
You spent the rest of the day on rides, laughing, eating & sharing stories, there was a moment on top of the Ferris wheel where you thought Bucky was leaning in to kiss you, but he just found a bit of lint on your shoulder & was trying to assess if it was Ant Man needing assistance so needed to get closer.
Sure, you were disappointed, & no you didn’t see any actual lint, you always harboured a harmless crush on the Super Solider, who wouldn’t with him being so sweet & handsome, but it was such an odd feeling to not feel at all sad that less than 24 hours ago you were in love with someone else then unceremoniously dumped, or at least you thought you were in love. Hmm.
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He walked you to your apartment block, insisting on making sure you were safe in your home before he left, you supposed he of all people knew the dangers of the world so of course invited him up, you didn’t want him to ever leave your side if you were being honest.
You were both settled on your sofa, him nursing a beer & you a glass of wine, ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate this Bucky because I absolutely do, but why did you do all this for me today?’
‘Why wouldn’t I want to cheer up a person going through something, especially when they are my favourite person?’
It was like your heart skipped an entire beat hearing those words, the oversized Super Solider wasn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings ever, you thought, so to hear that from him meant the world to you, ‘Your favourite?’
Come on Bucky, now or never, ‘Look, Tony said I shouldn’t ask you to marry me or anything & I won’t, I won’t, I promise, but he said I should just shoot my shot, so look it started out as me wanting to cheer you up & make you smile because it’s always my favourite thing to do but at the same time maybe I just let you know that when you’re ready there are other people out there that would be happy to have you all to themselves & will know the treasure they’re holding. Not saying who, but if you don’t mind an age gap of say 72 years, there’s a certain single super solider that wouldn’t mind taking you to the movies, dinner & dancing.’
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he just came out with it, simple as that & his brain wasn’t even shouting at him to jump straight out of your window to the safety of not knowing what it feels like to be rejected from the only woman he’s wanted for 80 years.
You smirked trying your absolute best to stop yourself from jumping his bones, ‘Steve can dance?’
Thankfully he knew Steve was more like a brother to you, so you were just playing with him, so he dramatically clutched his chest, ‘Why … why would you willing to inflict pain on me like that Petal?’
You giggled narrowing your eyes, ‘So he can orrrr….?’
Watching how his eyes darkened sent a thrill down your spine & a deep throb to your clit, he moved closer towards you on the sofa, knees knocking, tracing finger up & down your thigh whilst he drew his tongue along his lower lip, it was a hypnotic, ‘You’d be too much for Steve sweetheart, you need someone who can be firm with you.’
You arched your brow, loving where this conversation was going & the way he grasped you flesh, you dropped your shoulder & looked up at him as innocently as you could drawing out your voice as seductively as possible before biting your lip, ‘is that right Sarge?’
‘Absolutely Petal.’ He couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from where your teeth indented your plump pout, he was desperate to run his thumb along it to release it & replace it with his mouth.
‘hmmm so a firm, single, super soldier?’
Almost looking cocky he managed to pull his focus back to your eyes, raising a brow, ‘Know any?’
You had your finger & thumb pinching your chin in faux contemplation, ‘Not ringing any bells Sarge.’
‘Let me remind you.’
Ding, Ding, Ding. He pulled your face to his crashing your lips together, holding your head in his hands, the contrast between flesh & metal was so uniquely Bucky & you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to go back to two regular hands.
It felt as though every kiss you had ever had before now were pecks on the cheek in comparison, because Bucky Barnes could kiss like nothing else, the absolute passion & desire he could communicate with his tongue had you on a plane of existence you never knew was available, what else could he do with it?
Every moment connected was erasing the last year of your life, why did you waste your time on that waste of space when this was available the whole time?
It wasn’t long until you were pulled onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs & grinding down onto the prominent bulge he was sporting, moaning as it made contact with your centre.
Between kisses he finally managed to string a full sentence together, ‘Are you sure? Feel like I’m taking advantage of your weakened emotional state.’
You giggled into his mouth, ‘Have you been watching Dr Phil again?’
‘Maybe, but I don’t want you to regret anything.’ The way he held your face back to take a pause & make sure it was what you wanted almost made you cry, this sweet man who did nothing but take care of you wanted you & there wasn’t a better feeling you’d ever had.
Connecting your foreheads, you looked deeply into his gorgeous ocean eyes, ‘The only thing I will regret is not doing it sooner & wasting my time on him.’
‘Really?’
You nodded, ‘Make me forget soldier.’
Your mouths were connected again but this time his hands moved with purpose freeing you of the layers that kept him from the entirety of you, quickly reciprocating you pulled his hoodie over his head, momentarily breaking your kiss.
‘The second you want me to stop you tell me Petal, you gonna be a good girl for me?’
You nodded going straight back to kissing him as he pulled your jeans off taking your pants with them, ‘Need your words flower.’
‘Yes Sarge.’
The serum running through his veins kicked in & he wasted no time reattaching your lips in a frantic kiss, working his way down to your jaw, neck & chest, spending that extra second admiring the sight before him.
‘You’re perfect sweetheart.’
‘You too gorgeous.’
He smiled at your words, that wonderfully adorable smile that he only allowed you to see, the adrenaline buzzing through you temporarily overtaken by the endorphins at the thought of this wonderful man wanting to be with you.
It was only a moment of being an adorable puppy, a switch before he was back to the insatiable Super Soldier that was about to plough you so hard you’d forget your own name, you had no doubt Bucky would be capable of it.
‘Not here Petal.’ He hoisted you up, his strong arms keeping you attached to his lips as he walked you through your apartment to the bedroom, gently bending to deposit you on the mattress still not parting your lips for a single second until he was positioned above you.
His mouth began descending back down you neck & chest until his lips found their way to your bra & he tsk’d at it getting in his way & without missing a step a knife appeared from his boot & he swiftly sliced the front of it inciting a gasp to escape, it was the single hottest thing you’d ever experienced & it set your whole existence on fire.
‘I’ll buy you a new one flower.’ it was thrown, along with the knife onto the floor, & his tongue wasted no time swirling around your nipple, the other being squeezed by his cool metal finger tips, the sensation making your back arch & you were already desperate for more.
‘Touch me Bucky.’
You could feel him smile against your chest & like all good soldiers did, he obeyed your command, keeping his mouth attached to your chest he traced his hand down your body, loving the way you squirmed as it hit your ticklish spots, you were so soft & as he gently parted your legs he could smell how wet you were.
Drawing a single finger along your folds, he made you shudder as he teased you gently, admiring how soaked you were for him, ‘All this for me Petal?’
Shyly nodding at him you watched as he made his way down, settling between your legs, it should have felt weird for another man to be seeing you in this state so soon, but it didn’t. It felt as though Bucky was the only one who should see you like that, vulnerable & open to everything he was about to give you.
His nose nudged at you, every hair stood on edge, your breath hitched & your heart thudded in anticipation. ‘Fucking perfect’, the first contact with his mouth to your glistening pussy released the beast within him that had been dying to taste you since the minute he laid eyes on you. It wasn’t gentlemanly, or loving, it was some caveman shit & lord you were not prepared for his tongue. Within the first minute you were on the verge of climaxing, he ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in years, yet his technique was a sharp as a knife, he worked you til he could feel you right on the edge before he cruelly pulled his mouth from you making you whimper & the loss of him.
Yes, you had been a good girl & if anyone deserved an orgasm it was you, but he didn’t want to ever stop tasting your nectar or move from between your legs. If he buried his cock in you he would blow his load within a minute he was that turned on by you, so he needed to at least make this bit last as long as possible for you.
If keeping you on the brink meant he could spend all night between you legs so be it, he carried on flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking it then burying his tongue in your cunt, over & over. Every time he pulled away you let out an ungodly whining noise or begged him to keep going.
‘No, No no, please.’ You were desperate at this point & willing to get on your knees to beg.
‘Please what?’
‘Please Sargent, please let me cum.’
‘Can’t sweetheart, can’t ever stop, you taste so good.’
He doubled down sucking at your clit & you almost sobbed the moment it was taken away; did he want you to have a tantrum? You were on the brink of one if he did it again.
‘Please, please, please’
You were babbling, tears escaping your eyes & right where he wanted, if you didn’t know what was going on you wouldn’t notice him lasting the 0.7 seconds he was predicting from him being so desperate to be inside you.
You were at the precipice of euphoria, your orgasm on the cusp, the anticipation of him pulling away had you on high alert & you could feel every single thing he did waiting for it to be snatched away at the very last second, but this time he didn’t pull away, he plunged his metallic fingers in you as you saw white & exploded through your pleasure to absolute ecstasy.
Curling his two thick digits he hit your spot over & over taking you to another straight away, the pleasure at a level you hadn’t ever experienced before, if he was talking to you you were clueless, everything was muffled & you didn’t even notice the hollowness once Bucky moved so he was covering you with his body.
‘Look at me Sweetheart.’
You managed to roll your eyes, which you assume had detached at some point during the second orgasm & look at his gorgeous blue ones, did they always make your heart skip a beat?
‘You’re really pretty, you know that Bucky.’ Your voice came out a bit hoarse but the cute smile on his face was worth the pain from straining your throat.
‘And you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’
You hid your face in the crook of his neck, ‘You ready for me gorgeous?’
You nodded against him. ‘Words sweetheart.’
‘Ye.. yes, want you to fuck me Sarge.’
‘That’s my girl’
He pumped his cock once, twice, you were looking down between your bodies, when did he even take his jeans off? He was huge, dauntingly so, the perfect cock, long & thick weeping & desperate for you.
He chuckled at your expression whispering in your ear, ‘It’ll fit darlin.’
‘If you say so Soldier.’ You really weren’t convinced.
His heavy length sat at your opening & slowly he pushed into you as he looked at your completely blissed our expression, head leaned back, eyes closed & mouth moaning the most sinful noises with every inch he added, he latched onto the neck you were perfectly presenting for him, mapping every spot that made you clench that bit tighter.
‘Fuck your pussy is chocking me darlin. Not gonna last.’
‘Mmnn fuck, so good Buck so so fucking good.’
Finally, he was fully seated in you, you’d never felt so full, so complete, you squeezed his ass to let him know he could get going but he stayed still, ‘just gimme a sec, been a while.’
Your giggled at his heavy breathing but quickly stopped once his hips began slamming into you, by god you needed a pounding & he complied perfectly, your good Soldier & all thoughts were lost as he repeatedly thrust his powerful body into you.
‘Fucking gorgeous you know that, wanted to fuck you since the day I met you. Fucking perfect, perfect pussy, like it was made for me.’
‘God Bucky, harder.’
‘You sure?.’
‘Yeah, gimme all you got, I can take it.’ you weren’t sure that you could, but you wanted to give it a try.
‘Not gonna last darlin. You gotta give me one more though.’
His metal fingers connected with your swollen clit sending a jolt of electricity through your body, you weren’t sure if you had ever made such an obscene noise before, it was too much but not enough at the same time.
‘Feels so good.’
‘You my good girl?’
‘Yes Sargent, want you to fill me up.’
‘Fuck sweetheart, don’t say that, I won’t ever fucking stop.’ You were making him go into overdrive, he was feral for you, his perfect angel with the most sinful mouth.
‘Don’t want you to, want you dripping out me for days.’
‘Jesus Christ, my perfect filthy girl.’
You were so overwhelmingly full of the Super Solider, the tip of his huge cock nudging the spot within you at rapid fire had the blinding pleasure begin to rip through you once again as you finally hit your third climax of the night clamping down on him as his hips stuttered & release followed painting your walls with his seed, pumping the cum into you repeatedly until his motion ceased & he lowered his lips to you.
Silence, still connected he watched you carefully as you opened your eyes, blinking from adjusting to the bright light having held them shut from the bliss you were coming down from.
He leaned down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip before he gently moved the hair from around your face, ‘What you thinkin’?’
‘I wasted a year of my life on someone who wasn’t you.’ Reaching up to him you repeated his action, tucking the wayward strands behind his ears, caressing his cheeks with your fingers, it felt like a dream & you didn’t want to wake up.
‘Hmm just think of it as you lowered your standards so much for him, that he made me look like an ideal candidate in comparison.’
You hated that he didn’t think of himself highly enough, you shook your head smiling at his goofy grin, ‘Don’t say that please.’
‘Ok, how about this, seeing you lower your standards to that idiot made me get my act together & be the man you deserved.’
‘Better. Or maybe I was completely blind & now I can see.’
He rested his forehead against yours looking deeply at you, you were waiting for a serious meaningful declaration of love to come out, instead ‘you look like a minotaur from this close.’
You laughed batting the super soldiers arm ‘I think you may have gotten your mythical creatures mixed up there.’
‘Nope, it’s the one-eyed creature.’
‘Nope, it’s a human with a horse’s body.’
He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Agree to disagree.’
‘Absolutely not Barnes, where’s my phone?’
‘Oh, now you calling me Barnes, huh, what happened to Sargent.’
You shook your head at him, loving his playful teasing, ‘Your dick is soft, you only get Sargent when sex is on the cards.’
‘Oh, is that right?’ he planted a long slow kiss on your lips.
‘Yep & for people who know the difference between a Minotaur & a Cyclops of course.’
‘Of course,’ He agreed nodding away smugly. ‘Good thing I’m ready to go again then isn’t it? What’s my name?’
You felt him growing within you & it set your skin on fire, it was an indescribable sensation & as you let out a moan & batted your eyelashes at him you couldn’t help but submit to the huge Super Solider, ‘Sargent, Sir.’
‘Are you my good girl?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Will you be my girl?’
‘Yes, Sargent.’
Both your smiles were as wide as the sun as he began picking up the pace of his hips, nowhere near the frantic level it had been before, this was different, slow & intimate, & as if they were magnets your lips found each other’s yet again.
‘Happy Valentine’s Day darlin’.’
🧡💛💚💙💜🤎
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