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freedomfireflies · 8 months

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Off the Shelf*

Summary: The second part to 404*

The one where you hate working with Harry and can’t ever seem to agree.

Except on one thing.

Word Count: 3.9k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“And what seems to be the problem?”

Instantly, you and Harry are at each other's throats.

“I told him two fucking times to check his email for confirmation—”

“She wouldn’t shut up about the goddamn code—”

“—like that’s somehow my fault when he’s never on time—”

“—already in the middle of fucking rewriting the last sequence—”

“—which is ridiculous because I already told him—”

“—can’t do fucking anything when she’s yapping in my ear all goddamn day—”

“Okay, okay, all right,” Mr. Prescott sighs, raising his palms in surrender. “Let’s just take a breath—”

“She’s fucking up our project,” Harry interjects before leaning back. “Sir.”

Mr. Prescott rests his arms on his desk and glances between you. “From what I remember, the two of you agreed to work on finalizing the AI program. Comb through the bugs and whatnot.”

“Yeah, well, that was before he decided it was a waste of his time,” you retort, ignoring Harry’s obvious glare.

“That’s not what I said,” he huffs. “I said that we need to be working on expanding the GUI—”

“Except that wasn’t a part of our job, so—”

“Oh, and what? I can’t try to make the program better?”

“Maybe if you knew how—”

“I got hired for the same fucking job you did—”

“A job you don’t even want to do—”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do it—”

“Oh, bite me, Harold—”

“All right, all right,” Mr. Prescott interjects, running a hand down his cheek. “Listen, the two of you are more than qualified for the position and perfectly capable of executing the sequence you were designing. I understand it can be hard to collaborate, but this is what you agreed on—”

“I don’t mind collaborating as long as he does what I need him to do,” you correct while Harry scoffs and uses his knuckle to shove his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “He just doesn’t like to listen.”

“If what you were saying was worth listening to, maybe I would,” he agrees. “But until then, I’d like to handle my shit and you can handle yours.”

Stuck without much dispute, you bring your attention back to Mr. Prescott, eager for his response.

The poor, older gentleman crosses his arms and studies you both, seemingly unconvinced but perhaps too exhausted to fight it. “That’s fine by me. As long as you’re reporting your progress to your supervisors – and to each other – I don’t see why you can’t work on different aspects of the sequence.”

“Thank you, sir,” you exhale, glancing toward your partner who’s already turning around on his heel. “Uh, we really appreciate it. And we won’t cause any more trouble. We swear.”

“She swears,” Harry calls, already halfway out the door. “I don’t swear anything.”

Biting back a snort, you scurry after him and toss Mr. Prescott one final, “Thank you again!” before the door falls shut.

Harry is rounding the corner when you finally catch up, hands shoved into his dark jean pockets, and shoulders slightly tense. It’s not unusual, you suppose. He’s always tense. Muscles rigid beneath his clothing. Lip perpetually stuck between his teeth as he gnaws on the pink fibers until they tear and bleed. And glasses that are always about halfway down his nose from the bouncing of his knee.

He’s striding through the lab like he’s got somewhere important to be, and it drives you fucking mad because he’s technically done for the day. The only thing the two of you have left is a staff meeting with your supervisor before everybody is allowed to head home, and that shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

But you don’t like when he walks like that. You aren’t sure why, but it’s always irritated you. Like he thinks he’s so goddamn special – so important. Like his presence is so valuable. And even worse, he’s always walking away from you. Like your presence isn’t.

However, instead of going straight to his desk – his favorite hiding spot – he rounds another corner and disappears into the next hall.

You pause, unsure whether or not to follow. He had to have known you were right behind him, so is he leading you somewhere? Or is he simply trying to escape you?

Either option seems likely.

Curiosity outweighs logic, and you continue after him until you manage to find where he’s disappeared to.

He’s hiding in the shadows of the abandoned walkway, lurking near a door you don’t recognize, his eyes now on you.

You skid to a stop, confused and a little cautious of the smirk on his face. “Uh…what? What are you…the hell are you doing?”

“You are so fucking annoying, you know that?” he scoffs, nodding his chin at you. “‘Oh, Mr. Prescott, Harry’s being mean to me. Oh, Mr. Prescott, Harry won’t do what I want.’”

Your eyes narrow at the falsetto tone of voice used to mock you. “Fuck you, I’m just trying to get our shit done and over with so we can move on—”

“Clearly,” he hums, but it’s riddled with sarcasm. “No, yeah. You wasting time going through the same data I’ve already been through is a great use of our time—”

“I’m going through it because I’m trying to make it better—”

“I made it. It was already better—”

“God, you are so fucking dumb—”

“Yeah, and you’re a cunt,” he retorts before he’s reaching for the door and swinging it open. “Get in.”

A bit stunned by the sudden and strange command, you blink. “...what?”

“I said, get. In. What, are you deaf and stupid?”

“Harry, it’s the middle of the goddamn day—”

“Get in the fucking closet, Tinkerbell, before I come over there and make you.”

Your eyes roll but you aren’t about to pretend you aren’t intrigued. Despite your revulsion for him, he seems to be in possession of the cheat code to your sex drive. All it takes is a look or a suggestive comment (or a rather rude demand for you to get inside a tiny storage closet) for you to fall victim to his intentions.

And it’s been that way since you met him.

Which only makes it that much more infuriating.

You obey – with a pointed scowl – striding past him and into the small space as he follows suit and pulls the door shut.

A light flickers on overhead, allowing you to see Harry’s amused expression as you huff, “Now what—”

He kisses you. Instantly and without a single moment of pause. His palms quickly press to the wall beside your head, caging you between his arms as he takes your tongue between his lip and sucks.

His glasses are cold against your face. You remember how they used to scratch you when the two of you first started this little arrangement but they don’t as much anymore. You think he might have changed the frames for this very reason, but you aren’t sure.

After all, that would be nice, and Harry isn’t nice.

“Harry—” you pant during a quick gasp for air. “We don’t have time—”

“I’m making time,” he counters, pressing his hips into yours while his mouth moves to your neck.

You want to snort your exasperation, but you’re too far lost in the feel of his body. “I thought you had shit to handle.”

“I do,” he replies smoothly, his hand now curving around your cunt until he can squeeze it tight in his grasp. “This is me handling my shit.”

His touch is unforgiving but incredibly welcome, and you whine softly before quickly reaching for his hair. “I thought I was annoying.”

“You are,” he says, sucking bruises into the space below your ear. “But there’s something about the way you stomp your little foot and tell on me that gets me all hot and bothered.”

You yank on his curls until he hisses, although he’s still much too smug. “So this has nothing to do with the girl who dropped by earlier? Or the fact that you apparently couldn’t finish?”

His eyebrow raises but he’s biting back a smile. “What girl?”

“Ha. Very funny. Are you gonna fuck me or are you gonna try to be cute?”

“Why can’t I do both?” he retorts, grinning wildly before pressing his lips to yours once more.

It feels familiar, this routine. This dance you’ve so quickly memorized, and it becomes increasingly easier to play along as you scratch your nails against his scalp and tug on the loop of his pants.

His hand slips into your jeans, the tips of his rough fingers smoothing down the front of your panties. A teasing touch, and you jolt in his hold before grabbing onto him harder.

“Harry,” you sigh, lashes fluttering as your head falls back into the wall behind you. “God, just…hurry. Please—”

“No.” It’s an easy response. Cruel, almost. But he’s focused on you. On your body and the way it responds to him. “I’m working right now, Tink. Leave me to it.”

He crouches down, pulling on the fabric around your legs until it pools near your ankles. He seems tantalized by the way your pussy sits so close to his face. The way it looks behind the pale blue cotton with the tiny bow.

He surges forward and presses his mouth to you. Lapping at the material until there’s a rather obvious wet patch – either from you or him, you can’t really be sure – while making your eyes roll back.

“Shit,” you whimper, once again grabbing onto his curls for stability. “God, Harry…we don’t have time for this.”

He smirks against your cunt before dragging his tongue over your covered clit. “D’ya want me to stop?”

Your lips form around the word, “Yes,” but what comes out is a very strained and breathless, “No. Please, no.”

He grins, large palms kneading on the flesh of your thighs to keep them spread before he lands a firm smack to your leg. “Good girl.”

His technique is sinful. Ruthless yet mesmeric, and you look at him with a kind of wonder you can’t explain.

Harry isn’t anything like what you expected. He’s incredibly smart and focused. He cares about his work to a point of obsession. He’s a perfectionist, through and through. He’s diligent and has a great attention for detail.

And yet this man has the most insatiable appetite for sex.

His list of kinks is a mile long. He’s out almost every night at bars, at clubs, at parties. He likes degradation, he likes pain, he likes bondage. He likes to bend you over your desk and spank you until your skin is raw and red. He likes to yank on your hair and drag his teeth down your throat. He likes to go deep – likes to go hard and slow.

You aren’t sure why you assumed he’d be docile and a bit vanilla in bed. Perhaps it was the glasses or the way he always corrected your grammar. Which you know wasn’t exactly a fair assumption, but you didn’t have much else to go on.

Well…until the first time.

“You’re holding your breath,” he murmurs from beneath you, forcing your attention back. “Stop doing that.”

Sucking in a quiet inhale, you oblige. “Sorry.”

You have a rather dangerous habit of taking in large gasps for air when he’s eating you out or making you feel good and then forgetting to release them. Which is all fun and games until you begin to feel a bit lightheaded and nearly pass out. In fact, one time you almost did, and it had scared Harry so bad, he refused to touch you for about a week.

Glancing up to make sure you’ve obeyed, he nods once. “Attagirl.”

Your cheeks warm slightly at the praise – another nasty habit you wish you could break – before he’s diving back in.

Despite the way the seconds are ticking by on your watch, Harry continues to revel in the taste of you, even through your panties. He hums until your legs shake, head bobbing to accompany his mouthing at your pussy.

He enjoys eating you, even like this. He always has and you can’t say you quite understand it. Perhaps it’s the power it gives him. The way you whine and whimper. The way you grab at him and give him everything you have to offer. The way you fucking hate him…yet you still let him in.

“Harry, please,” you nearly groan, tugging on him again. “If you’re gonna fuck me, then fuck me already. We don’t have time.”

He makes a tsking sort of noise before nudging his tongue against the front of your underwear. “God, you’re no fucking fun, you know that? And to think I was actually gonna take my time with you.”

Your expression is playfully unamused, but you can’t deny you’re somewhat curious.

He lands another spank to your leg and stands back up. “But that’s not what you want, huh? You just want me to be quick. Want me to fill you up and send you on your way. Don’t want me to play with you.”

You watch as he flicks his belt open and steps closer to you, a rather salacious look in his eye.

“And wouldn’t that be a shame?” he whispers, long fingers sweeping up the inside of your thigh. “For you to go into that meeting with my cum dripping down your leg? When you can’t do anything about it?”

You feel your breath catch, throat going dry at the way he drags the tip of his nose along your jaw. You want to resist him – you should resist him. And yet…

“Maybe it would be,” you reply coyly. “If you could get it up.”

To accompany your taunt, you reach down and press your palm to his cock, smirking when he sucks in a sharp hiss through gritted teeth.

“Seems you’ve gone soft on me,” you murmur, squeezing once more for good measure before releasing him. “That’s the real shame.”

The hand beside your head smacks against the wall. “S’cute, Tink. Real fucking cute—”

“Is it because of her?” you ask, straightening up until you can ghost your lips along his. Close, but not close enough. “Could she not take your tiny, little dick down her throat?”

You notice the way he swallows. The way the muscles in his arm flex beside you. The way his lashes flutter angrily from behind his glasses.

“Or could you not get yourself off?” You reach for him again. He's already beginning to harden from your touch – your voice – and despite yourself, your ego swells. “Was it when you were fucking your fist in your car this morning? Were you thinking about her? Is that why you couldn’t get hard?”

Something finally snaps, and instantly, you feel his fingers slipping around your throat. Just hard enough to make you grin. “What if I was thinking about you?”

“Mm. I don’t think so. Said it yourself. If you’re thinking about me…you’re always hard.”

He’s amused by this, squeezing your neck before surging forward to kiss you again. “Naughty little Tinkerbell.”

You smile.

With this, he spins you around and tosses you toward the empty and somewhat dusty bookcase in the corner of the closet. His touch is firm and unrelenting. Perhaps even a little cruel. The way he tugs on your hips as though to punish you. The way he shoves you until you’re bent over the shelf, allowing him access to your body like it’s his right.

And you don’t mind. This is the kind of dominance you’ve come to expect from the quiet yet horny man you work with.

Your underwear is yanked to the ground, the sound of a ripping stitch echoing throughout the small space. You frown but you don’t comment.

His palm smooths along your pussy, cupping it somewhat gently before his thumb flicks across your clit. He just wants to see you jump. Make you whine and push back into his touch.

You hear him chuckle. “Easy, princess. Gotta make sure you’re ready first.”

“I’m ready, just go,” you huff, staring down at the dust beneath you.

His finger slides inside your cunt, feeling you out for only a moment before retreating. “I don’t know. Seem a little tense.”

“If I’m with you, I’m tense,” you retort, making him smile. “Go already.”

“Now, now,” he warns, slipping in a second finger. “You wouldn’t rush Picasso, would you?”

You groan. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry—”

“What?” He’s enjoying himself. “I’m the painter, and you are my art.”

“No, you’re fucking irritating, that’s what you are.”

“Oh, come on, I thought girls liked sappy analogies like that.”

“No, they like to get fucked. So, hurry up already.”

He lands another smack to your ass before dipping down to whisper, “As you wish.”

You hear the sound of him pulling himself out before you feel the tip of his cock dragging through your arousal. Collecting every drop while slowly pushing in.

He’s right, you are tense. And the stretch that accompanies his large size is enough to make you wince, yet…you love it.

Despite the slight pain, it feels good. Full in every sense of the word, and you focus on the deep breaths you’re taking as your nails begin to curl into the shelf.

Through clenched teeth, Harry calls, “You okay, Tink?”

“Mhm,” you hum, lashes fluttering shut. “This is easy. In fact, you could go faster, actually.”

He exhales a strained laugh, readjusting his hands on your hips. “Funny.”

“Yeah, I’m hysterical.”

He pushes in a bit further but still slow. He knows your body well enough to know what it can handle. And he understands his size is a touch above average.

Although he never lets you forget it.

“Being so brave,” he coos with a playful air of condescension. “My brave girl, yeah? Taking it like a champ.”

“Bite me, Styles.”

“Yeah? Just tell me where.”

You get ready to respond, but your remark is ripped from your throat when he suddenly drives in to the hilt. Ripping off the band aid and giving you exactly three seconds to adjust before he begins to fuck you.

The push and pull is everything. The pace, the anger, the pain. His hand is against your scalp, keeping you bent and pliable to his intentions. He’s grunting softly, slowing down just to speed back up. He listens to the noises you make, the way you clench around him. And he uses that to decide what he does next.

Your heart is hammering in your chest and your stomach is doing cartwheels. It’s as though this is the first rush of relief you’ve felt in weeks. Your hands can’t do it. Your vibrator can’t do it. Not even the guy you met at the bar could do it.

Nobody can do it like he can.

And you fucking hate it.

He lets go of your hair to reach around and slip his hand up your shirt. Finding your tit and giving it a nice squeeze before slapping his palm along the tender flesh. “Oh, you like that, princess, don’t you?”

You nod faintly, whimpering from the subtle sting, silently requesting he do it again.

So, he does. “S’cute how much you love when I hurt you. Makes me think you might even like me.”

You manage to scoff between unhinged whines. “Shut up, Harry.”

“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” he continues. “You like me more than you think you do. That’s why you always do what I ask. Like a good girl.”

You sneak a glimpse over your shoulder, studying the crooked angle of his glasses, and the slight smirk on his face.

He’s cute, you think. He’s always been kind of cute, but he’s especially cute when he’s ripping you apart from the inside out.

He meets your eye and travels his fingers down to your clit. “Need more, don’t you?”

But you don’t just need more. You need everything.

He pinches you tight and readjusts his stance to make sure he’s fucking into you at just the right speed. Just the right place to make your back arch and your toes curl.

“Gonna have to cum for me,” he grits, the graveled request woven between your anxious moans. “You wanted quick, so be fucking quick.”

You nod your agreement, the pleasure at the base of your spine building until it becomes your singular focus.

You hadn’t realized you were this worked up. Hadn’t anticipated being so close to release after such a short amount of time but maybe Harry was right about something else. Maybe fighting with him is your aphrodisiac.

The first few sparks explode behind your eyelids, taunting you with more as he begins to groan softly from behind you.

“Fucking shit—” His hips are slapping into your ass, the sound of your arousal being fucked into you by his cock like music to your ears. “There you go, princess. Just like that – keep squeezing me. Yeah…fuck.”

He’s close and you clench around him to get him closer, needing to feel him fill you more than you need air in your lungs.

When he does, it tips the rest of the dominos. One after the other until everything is falling apart. The warmth of his cum inside of you, the pulsing of his cock in your pussy, the scattering of pleasure between your thighs.

And he sounds so beautiful. Rough and exceedingly desperate. The most perfect, delicious sound and it makes your stomach flip in the most excruciating way. You could listen to him for hours. Could get off to his voice alone, the way he grunts and moans for you. The way he says your name through a heated curse and spanks his hand along your ass.

“S’fucking good, Tink,” he exhales, tightening his hold on your waist to keep you upright and steady. “Milk me, baby, come on. Fucking take it.”

You can feel him dripping down your legs. Can feel the heat and the soreness already settling but you thrive off it. Indulge in the way he takes care of you for a moment more before finally pulling out and turning you around.

He checks your face for signs of distress. Brows furrowed and expression scrutinous from behind his glasses. You can tell he’s got another sarcastic comment locked and loaded but before he can fire it, you reach up, and slip the frames from his nose.

Then, you kiss him. Hard and with fervor. It’s oddly passionate – perhaps filled with the lingering frustration from your previous altercation. But you don’t mind. It feels like him.

After a minute or two, you pop off his tongue, return his glasses to nose, and shove him back. “And now we’re gonna be late.”

He smiles to himself, stepping closer once more to run his thumb just beneath your eye. Collecting what you assume are dried tears and runny mascara. “Oops.”

However, before you can pull your jeans back on, Harry is crouching down and grabbing onto the material for you.

He pulls your panties up and secures them around your hips, ignoring the sticky cum beginning to seep out of your pussy.

Confused, your eyes narrow. “Har—"

“I told you,” he says calmly while zipping your jeans. “You’re gonna go into that meeting with me inside you.”

You feel your heart skip.

“But maybe if you’re good,” he whispers before looking up with a devious wink, “…I’ll do something about it.”

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~ SnakeBite*

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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months

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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way.

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around.

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you.

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it.

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago.

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others.

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much.

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner. They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk.

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess.

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do.

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day.

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out.

He saw you cook finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands.

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War.

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit.

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day.

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it.

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake whiny bitch.

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that.

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong.

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel.

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them.

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore.

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no.

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle.

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!”

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other.

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army. When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck.

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around scratching, kicking, and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off him and inhaling deep gulps of precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands.

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting.

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right.

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character.

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked.

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones.

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin.

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?”

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts.

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too.

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass.

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it.

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards.

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be.

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone.

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest.

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.”

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right. “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering.

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse.

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck.

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit.

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there?

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below, your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places.

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his.

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.”

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special.

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight.

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking.

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight.

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms.

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass.

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome."

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory?

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens.

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter.

Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin spoilers #viviziepop #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw violence #tw violence #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw language #tw language #violet evergarden!reader #fem!reader #character!reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months

Note

Ok sooooo, I’ve been like lowkey stalking your page, specially your Hobie x reader stuff…..I’m in love, your writing is 🤌. Anyway if you’re open to the ideas could you do a spidey reader with light light manipulation powers and their personality matches their powers. Just some cute fluffy opposites attract kind of thing with Hobie. Even if you don’t feel like writing for it that’s totally fine! I love your work so much, have a good day!

I took a lotta inspiration from dagger (cloak and dagger) for this so 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Glowing

Everyone thought Hobie was scary for some reason. You didn’t see why, he was great.

“Hobie!” You called out. He turned back as soon as he heard your sweet voice. He smiled as he stopped walking and waited for you as you ran up to him.

You ran up and hugged him, putting your arms around his neck as he picked you up, your legs around his waist.

You covered his face in kisses. Smiling as you hopped down.

“How are you?” You asked him.

“I’m alright, love, how are you?” He asked, as you both continued to walk.

“I’m good.”

You both talked for a while, then you both walked into Miguel’s office for a new mission.

He looked through some files, and then looked at you both as he picked one up.

“Cover up your neck.” He mumbled, looking at you and handing you the file.

You grew embarrassed as you realized the hickey that Hobie had given you.

“Y-yes sir.” You said, as you both left the office.

Hobie laughed and you hit his shoulder.

“Hobie! It’s not funny.” You whined.

“It is to me.” He snickered.

You sighed and opened the folder.

“Another Kraven? I feel like this is the millionth one we’ve done.” He said, looking at it.

“Feels like it. Oh well.” You shrugged. “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.” You kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled slightly at that, as he opened up a portal.

“Ladies first.”

You giggled, and walked through the portal, him following behind you.

“Alright, so on my watch it says that he should be… south of here.” He said, messing with the watch and looking that way.

You looked around, it was dark out, your white suit bright in the darkness.

You both started to swing, your bright white webs glowing in the moonlight.

(Your webs are Kinda like Miguel’s)

Finally, he looked up and stopped swinging, so you stopped. He pointed at a man with giant stature. He was wearing a coat, as most kravens did. And tight leopard leggings.

You both watched him some more, he was walking down a street. You guys followed behind him.

When he went down a small alley, you both quietly walked behind for a while. After a while, You webbed him up, he turned around quickly and broke the webs. You blinked in shock.

“Well.. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.” You said, looking at Hobie.

“I was.” He snickered. Kraven tan towards the both of you.

Your eyes went wide as he did so. You shot a light blast from your hands, the light solidifying as it left your hands.

Kraven took a fall, and Hobie then shot his webs, and webbed him to the ground.

Kraven yelled, and broke free of the webs. He went to throw a punch at you, but you stopped him with your hand.

“That is one strong arm you got.” You said, pushing him back, as Hobie kicked him from the back when he didn’t expect it.

He groaned in pain, and almost fell on top of you before you pushed him off.

“ewewewewew.. you couldn’t put on some deodorant or something?” You groaned and wiped your hands from his sweat.

He quickly got back up, and you used your powers to make a bright, glowing row of daggers, and threw them at him.

He fell back next to the wall with cuts all over him.

You and hobie both webbed him in a ball, and then gave each other a high five.

“That was.. sexy.” He mumbled.

“Really? I mean you weren’t so bad yourself.” He lifted up his mask quickly, and so did you. You both kissed, Kraven rolled his eyes and was gonna say something when hobie webbed his mouth. He grabbed your cheek, and it was more rough now.

“Hiya! So Miguel asked me to check on you both but it seems like you’re busy...” Lyla’s cheery voice appeared.

You gasped and pulled away, pulling your mask down.

“Lyla! Sorry. Yeah, we got him.” You said, going next to Kraven and posing next to him. He just side-eyed you

“Great! I’ll let him know. You look glowing by the way.” She winked at you and you just smiled as she disappeared.

Tag list- @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @I-pandamic-I-

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

Trust In What Tomorrow Brings - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: After your first date with Bucky Barnes, you two spend some time alone in your apartment. That's when you realize you actually want to keep him.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, second encounter, teasing, pet names, sir and sergeant kink, a tiny bit of mommy kink, mentions of past relationships, mentions of trauma, protected and unprotected sex, praising dirty talking mixture, dry humping, ripped clothing, face riding, blowjob, rough sex, multiple orgasms, light punishment, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11.9K

A/N: This is technically a second chapter to You’re My Desire but you don't need to read the first chapter to understand what's going on since this is their second date. We actually planned it as a one-shot but somehow 40s Bucky and this universe didn't want us to be done. So here we are with a sequel. We kinda went overboard with it because we just want Bucky to have a little bit of a good time in the middle of the war.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's a great writer and a talented creator in general.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the fourth paragraph of the story.

You may wanna read You're My Desire first

"This is absolutely crazy. They are all yours?" Bucky's fascinated smile is so cute that you smile, too.

“Oh yeah, I have been collecting books for a long time.”

"What's this?" He takes a book with a white cover that had no title or author written on it and analyzes it carefully.

“No, no, no.” You immediately try to take it back. “That’s not for your eyes, mister.”

"What?" Bucky snorts. "Is that your diary or what?"

“No, it’s not my diary.” You try to take the book back again, but you're not successful.

"Then why not?" He is even more curious now, turning his back a little to you to open it. "Even a dedication, huh? Is it from an old lover?"

“No, it’s not. Come on, give it back.”

He sighs, not wanting to push you and hands you the book. "Okay, sorry."

You didn’t expect him to give up this easily. His consideration makes you wanna share a little bit more with him. So you open up a page and show him.

“This is why you aren’t supposed to see this.”

He was careful not to hurt her as he pushed her.

Her skin was so soft under his touch that nothing matters anymore.

"Oh god," Bucky covers his mouth. "Is the whole book like this, doll?"

“Pretty much.” You giggle a little, amused by his cute reaction.

"Wanna read it to me?" He winks.

“You can read it yourself if you wanna learn a thing or two.”

"Excuse you?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Are you questioning my skills now?"

You throw your head back, laughing, and Bucky crosses his arms with a frown as he watches you.

“I’m teasing you.”

"Sure." He puffs. He knows you have experience, but what if he doesn't keep up to your expectations?

“I’m really teasing you. Half of the things they do sound unrealistic.”

"Give me an example." His voice is somehow a little vulnerable.

You take a big breath, already regretting this. “Let’s see: having sex underwater like crazy. The girl is… wet for hours. They are going at it all night, and the guy comes several times in a row.”

Bucky snorts, coming closer to you. "Does he have the super super serum? Because that's not biologically possible."

“That’s exactly what I meant.“

"Yet you still read them. Who wrote this?"

“There aren’t many options when it comes to these kinds of books. The author is not written as you can see.”

"How do you find them though?" He's genuinely curious.

“Mostly we borrow from each other. This one is my favorite so I bought a copy.”

"We? Who's we?"

“Girls. Exchanging books.”

Bucky's eyes glow all of a sudden. "Like a book club?"

“Yeah, like a book club.” You can’t help but smile at how excited he is.

"Oh god. Is it only for girls?" He tries to calm down a little, but this is so interesting he can't control himself.

Your smile turns into a full laugh. “You wanna read erotic books with girls?”

Bucky groans embarrassed as he covers his face. "No, of course not. I was just wondering. I can read erotic books with my girl."

“Your girl?” You raise your right eyebrow playfully.

"Aren't you?" He drops the hand from his face to grab yours.

“It depends on you.” You really wanna kiss him, but you hold yourself back.

Bucky surprises you by grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your book falls on the floor, but neither of you cares as he kisses you gently. "Want to be my girl, doll?"

“Yes, yes.”

"Are you sure? I can't make love to you the whole night," Bucky says amused.

You laugh. “I don’t think I would survive that even if you could.”

He joins you in laughter. "I'd probably die mid-thrust."

“You know what, though?”

"What?"

“I didn’t think having sex against the wall was realistic. You know, carrying the other person the whole time while thrusting. I thought that no more than 2 or 3 minutes could be possible, but you proved me wrong.”

Bucky looks at her surprised. "Really?"

“Yeah, really. I still don’t know how you did that.”

"I just held you. I'm a soldier." He brushes it off. "Maybe your... friends need to exercise more."

“My friends?” You repeat in a joking manner.

"Special friends."

“I don’t have any special friends.”

"Doll," he groans. "You know what I mean."

“I know and I never had any special friends.”

Bucky sighs. "Your previous... partners."

“I just had one partner, and he wasn’t a special friend. He was my fiancé.”

"Oh?" He feels like a total fool for assuming that. The word engagement, though… That burns a hole in his stomach. "Your fiance? What happened?"

“He got drafted, and then I found out he was cheating on me. So I broke off the engagement.”

Bucky can't believe it. How could he do that? "Wow, I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. When did it happen?"

“Over a year ago.” You offer a little more information with a bitter smile. You're glad you found out then. It would have been a mess if you had gotten married before that. “It’s okay. You already said more than he ever did.”

"I..." Bucky takes a step back. You're probably still in pain. Maybe even in love or regretting what could have been. He doesn't know how to process this. "I'm sorry once again."

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “And look, I know what kind of impression I gave you on that first date. So if you don’t believe I only had one partner before, I understand it.”

"That's not... I frankly don't care how many partners you had. That is the last thing I'd ever care about. What we did was to follow our needs." He sighs. "But I want to know what you really want us to be. Because I am not sure I would be the right guy to mend your heart only."

He wants a whole lot more.

“I am not expecting you to mend my heart, Bucky.”

"You talked about pain," he says naively.

“Pain that happened in the past. I’m not in pain anymore.”

"Oh." He slaps his forehead. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood, I guess. I was surprised because we have a connection and I felt like you liked me back, so hearing that you suffer..." Bucky's eyes soften. "He's an idiot. He never deserved you. A coward and a horrible man. I am sorry you had to go through this."

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You think we have a connection, huh?” You ignore the rest. You don’t wanna think about the past anymore.

"I hope you feel it, too." He sounds so shy and vulnerable you can't help yourself but smile.

“You are in my apartment all alone. What do you think?”

"I think we should dance."

“Dance?” You are surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Yes. I mean, I am not a great dancer, but I’m decent enough. Can we?"

“Yeah, of course. We should put some music on first.”

"You have a record player?! He doesn't even try to hide his shock and excitement anymore, so you grab him by his hand and drag him toward your record player.

You watch him staring at the big pile of records on the table.

“I have my apartment now, so I can spend my money on books, records, and stuff to cook.”

"Can you adopt me?" He jokes, without taking his eyes off your record player. "Wanna be my mommy? You can be my special young mama."

“Oh?” You try really hard not to smile, a little confused. “How does that work?”

"How do you think it works?" He's not even trying to sound seductive, but he still does. You have to take a deep breath, trying to keep your excitement down.

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

"Hmm, maybe another time. How about we dance?"

“Okay,” you say and you start to go through your records until you find Frank Sinatra. You put the record on and manage to find There Are Such Things really quickly.

"I love this one! You have a treasure here, doll." You extend your hand out and wait for him to take it so you two can start dancing. "Wanna sway with me, ma'am?" He finally takes your hand and brings you closer.

“I would love that.”

You're not surprised he's a good dancer. You expected this to be honest. But his goofiness, his funny faces, the way his voice feels so pleasant as he sings the lyrics… You feel shy to sing along when he's such a good singer, so you only hum against his chest.

He is warm and strong under your touch. It makes you remember the time you were much closer than this. You wondered what got into you that day, why you acted the way you did. He’s just intoxicating, and you would totally do it all over again.

"What are you thinking about?” He looks at you. “You seem distracted. Wanna do something else?"

His voice takes you back to reality. You are ashamed to admit you were thinking about sex, so you snuggle against his chest.

“No. Let’s keep dancing.”

"Only if you tell me what got you so distracted." You feel his lips on your head as he speaks.

“Your touch.” You try to be honest but also not expose yourself completely.

"What about it? Already tired of it?" You know he does it intentionally. He's so easy to read at this point.

“Yeah, so tired of it, that’s why I wanna keep dancing.” You try to surpass the urge to smile.

Bucky snorts, unable to contain himself. "All types of dancing?"

“How many types of dancing do you know, Sergeant?”

"One that you know for sure, too. We practiced it before." The change of tone is so obvious, and his hands fully wrap around your hips, pushing you more against him. He's so hard.

You look up, not moving away from his chest when you realize you aren’t the only one thinking about sex just because you are dancing. It’s a relief.

“I thought we were doing a regular dance,” you say, but the smile on your lips is giving away your actual feelings about this situation.

"Isn't this regular?"

"If you want it to be."

"Sounds good to me."

"Where should we dance, though? Kitchen? Bedroom? Here? Bathroom?" You start to laugh. He’s such an idiot. "Floor?" He joins you and starts to laugh as well.

“Floor?” You frown. “I think we deserve a bed this time.”

"I was teasing you," He lifts your chin to kiss you properly. "Thought you liked it rough."

“It can be rough in bed.”

He groans at the thought of taking you hard in a soft bed. "I might break it, doll."

“I bet you could.”

"Is that a challenge?" You love the subtle tone in his voice.

“No, it’s a prediction.”

And just like that you finally realize the music has stopped, only the sound of the needle-moving breaking the silence.

"Should we, uhm, play another or…?" He asks curiously, letting you go.

“We can, but I am a little hungry. We can listen while eating, and you can choose the time. How does that sound?”

Bucky's eyes widen. "That's perfect."

"I love this. Where did you get it from?" He's playing with the bracelet you're wearing as he eats another strawberry, laying on the couch next to you. It feels so natural, like you did this a million times before, yet still exciting.

“Oh, this?” You move your arm a little, but not away from him. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

"It's so beautiful, a perfect fit for you."

“She told me my grandfather gifted this when they got engaged.”

"Rich." He can't help himself but comment. "Sorry, I mean it's really beautiful, but also kind of expensive. He must have loved her very much." Then he places a small kiss on your wrist, right below your bracelet.

You laugh a little. “How do you think I could afford all this stuff?”

Bucky clears his throat, nervous. "You have a point, I just don't think about money. I don't come from a rich family."

“If you were, you wouldn’t be fighting in this war.” Your tone is suddenly more serious than you intended.

"So you don't mind going out with a nobody?" He sighs, just as serious.

“You are not nobody. Not to me!” You caress his cheek. “You are James Bucky Barnes.”

He melts under your touch immediately. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this type of warmth.

"You're so sweet."

“Wait. Does this mean…” You aren’t sure how to ask, but his comments about being rich remind you of the conversation you had not long ago. “The adopting or mommy thing you said. Does it mean this?”

He laughs so hard you can't believe it. Did you misunderstand? Is it not what it really means?

"I don't know, mama. What do you think that means?"

“Oh, come on! I have no idea and you know it!”

"I think you do."

“Nope. Not at all. Maybe you just want kids. That would make me a mama, right?”

"Hmm." Suddenly he’s distracted by that idea. He's simply too busy imagining his come dripping out of you to give you a proper answer, making you even more curious.

“You are such a tease,” you grumble.

"What does that mean?"

“What do you think that means?” You mimic his question.

Bucky taps his thigh and smiles. "Come here. You can ask me anything." You look at his thighs and then back into his eyes, biting your lip. That offer is so appealing. "I thought you trusted my strength."

“Oh, I do.” You move a bit closer, but not on his lap. “I am just not trusting myself.”

He gasps, bringing you closer himself. "Fuck, why?"

“You know the answer to this one.” You remark cheekly.

"No, I really don't."

“You are lying, mister. You know what I mean when I say I don’t trust myself.” You move your legs, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't know exactly what you mean."

“You might find out later then.”

He groans, moving his hands to your breasts, unsure. "I wanna know now."

“I'll tell you only if you promise me that you'll explain the mom thing.” You like how distracted he looks, so you keep leaning in.

"You're a mommy right now."

“And what does that actually mean?”

He's too focused on your breasts to even hear you. "Fuck, look at those hard little things." He can't help but pinch one of your nipples.

“Bucky!”

"So squishy." He's so fascinated as he squeezes the other breast eagerly. He's like a distracted child.

You move a little bit back, so he can’t touch them. "No!" He immediately complains, reaching out to touch them again. "How dare you!"

“No answer, no touching.”

He lifts his head and gives you the most betrayed look you've ever seen. His eyes are almost glossy. "You can't take them away."

“I can actually.” You move a little bit more. “See? They come wherever I go.”

Bucky gasps, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. "Don't you dare!"

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh while hugging him back.

"I am not." He pouts, burying his face into your boobs again.

“You are.” You move your hips just a little while still hugging him.

"What are you doing?"

“Nothing.”

"Nothing?" He moves his hips, too.

You make a sound you don’t expect but try to act like it didn’t happen. “Yeah, nothing.”

"Fuck me," he whispers to himself before taking your nipple in his mouth through the blouse. He wants to make you moan like that again. He needs to.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

"I'm your Jesus now?" He asks teasingly, switching to the other nipple.

“You can be my God if you keep doing that.” Shit, where did this response come from? He brings out a part of you that you didn’t know it even existed.

"You can't say this." He cries out unexpectedly, still licking you through your blouse. "You can't."

“Why?” It comes out like a whine.

"It's too much."

“You are too much.”

His hands grab the edge of your blouse without warning, but before he can rip it off, you slap his arms.

“You can just take things off without ripping them, you know?” You take the top off yourself, showing him how it’s done. “See, it’s not that hard.”

He ignores your comment and doesn't even warn you before grabbing your boobs and squeezing them together. "Missed you." Then he brings his head right between them, snuggling. You can’t help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

“You are. Look at you.”

"Can't look at me. I'm looking at something better." He licks the valley between your breasts without letting them go, and you curse under your breath. "Gonna take them away from me again?" He lets his tongue get to your right breast, and you feel his teeth dangerously close to your nipple now, making you moan.

“I think I should shut my mouth. I’m boosting your ego way too much.” You play because he’s boosting your ego, too.

"You can shut my mouth, baby. Anytime."

“Shut your mouth how?” You bring your hands over his mouth. “Like this?”

He bites your fingers in response. "Nope. Try again."

You move your hand to his neck and put a little pressure. “Maybe like this?”

He lets out the lowest moan you've ever heard from his mouth, closing his eyes. "Oh."

“Am I getting closer?” You ask. His eyes are so dark when he opens them, you're shocked. “Or did you mean something else?” You whisper right into his ear.

"Ihm. I did, can you guess?" He tries to distract himself before he can think about how much he enjoyed your grip on his neck.

“I’m out of ideas,” you say, making him drop his hand to your skirt. His fingers are playing with the edge of it. You can feel the implication of him wanting to take your skirt off. “You want me to… Shut you up with… Like that?”

"Imagine it." He closes his eyes, palming you over your underwear. "You'd be able to control the movements more."

“Did you… try this before? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You think you can hurt me?" He sounds so offended. "Oh, hell no. We should do this right now and I'll show you."

“Of course, I can hurt you. I could crush you!”

He looks at you amused. "Can't wait. Now come here and don't you dare hold back or you'll get a punishment. Got it?"

“Punishment?” Your eyes widen upon hearing that word. You aren’t sure if it’s scary or exciting. Could be both.

"I don't mean hurting you." He realizes immediately how this sounded. "I mean... spanking lightly."

“Oh, that kind of punishment.” You get a bit more relaxed, but your heart is beating fast. You move yourself where he wants you, but it feels so wrong. “I am afraid I might suffocate you.”

Bucky wants to protest immediately, but he stops himself. He knows you only need reassurance.

"How about we have a sign? If I tap three times on the couch, we stop. How about that?"

“Tap on me. Doesn’t matter where. Just on me, so I can feel it immediately.”

He nods, all melted. "Okay, now please don't hover." He gently orders.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong.”

You lower yourself on his face while trying to gather your skirt up for him.

"Can I rip it off or not?"

“You can. I knew you were gonna ask that, so I wore something I don’t like much.”

"Skirt too?"

“No. Not the skirt because I can take it off easily.” You unzip the skirt and take it off your head. “See?”

"Shame..," he says disappointed before finally ripping your underwear off with only one hand. "Finally!"

“You are a savage, Sergeant Barnes.”

"And I think you love that."

“Very much.” You lower yourself on his face, practically shutting him up like he wanted. He doesn't disappoint as he moans against you, making sure you're not hovering before pushing his tongue inside you. “Oh my god!” You yelp when you feel his warm tongue for the first time.

He can't answer as he's too busy eating you, but you feel his hands squeezing your skin harder. You spread your legs even further to feel his tongue better. It feels so good that you have a hard time keeping your voice down.

"Good girl." His praise goes directly to your core, and you curse under your breath, thinking you won’t last long. He can't help himself but bring one of his hands to your clit, hesitating.

“Just your tongue.” You request while moaning, and he agrees wordlessly.

You start to move your hips back and forth, trying not to go overboard and Bucky seems to love it, groaning louder against you, moving his tongue. As it gets more delightful, you have a hard time balancing yourself, so you grab onto his hair with one hand.

"Fuck!" He takes his mouth off just to curse. "Pull as hard as you want."

You pull his hair a little bit more before he puts his mouth back on you, just to see his reaction.

"Jesus, I'm..." he's so hard and excited that he's already started to leak. "I'm gonna make a mess on your couch."

“I’m already making a mess on my couch.” You are dripping wet, and he’s worried about making the mess. He’s so cute, especially when he’s laying down to please you like this.

"Keep bouncing, baby," he demands, then in no time, his tongue is flat, ready to be used by you, and you don’t hesitate.

You hold onto his hair with your right hand as you ride his tongue. You don't even realize how hard you pull until you hear his moans, encouraging you to keep going. He's clearly not suffocating, and you don’t realize how fast you are moving your hips, either. Not until you explode on his face, moaning mindlessly while trying to keep your shaking legs moving until you are done coming.

What surprises you the whole time is how he doesn't stop using his tongue until you finish, trying to hold you in place so he can give you more pleasure. You move yourself back a little after you are done, sitting on his chest and trying to catch your breath. You feel like a mess.

"How was it?" He doesn't move as he asks you that, only wiping his face with the back of his left hand.

“Earth-shattering. Wow.”

He snorts before licking his fingers right under your eyes. "Gonna listen to me next time?"

“Yes, sir,” you jokingly say, feeling boneless but still needing more.

"No." His answer comes more like a groan than an affirmation. "You can't… call me sir."

“Why not, sir?”

"God, it sounds so... great." He doesn't know what else to say, covering his face shily.

“Did I just discover something about you or did you already know this?” You finally move away from his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"It's something new."

“What about Sargeant? That you must have known.” You move your lips to his cheek, just making them brush his skin.

"Come on. Kiss me." He complains.

“Ask nicely.”

"Please?"

You finally kiss him on the cheek. "You are so pretty when you beg." Then you move your lips to his jaw and neck.

"You are even prettier when you listen."

"Am I? What if I don't listen?"

He brings his hand to your neck. "You're a bad, bad girl. And bad girls get punished." He smiles.

"I never got punished in bed before."

He smiles. "What would you want to try? Spanking as I suggested before?"

"You are giving the orders, remember? Not me."

Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You mean you pretend I'm giving the orders."

"Maybe I want you to give the orders, not just pretend." He squeezes the sides of the neck.

"You can try whatever you wanna try. You can give orders, just stop whenever I say stop."

"Deal.”

It feels strange to have him in your bedroom, truth be told. Especially watching him getting rid of his underwear and socks this close to you. His hair bounces with every move, so you can't help but giggle. And he looks so good. Really good, especially under proper lighting.

It’s not the first time you are seeing him half-naked, but you definitely didn’t get a good look while having a quickie in a dark alley. His body looks toned, strong, and capable. You are dying to feel his touch, but you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

"How many taps when you want me to stop?"

“Three.”

"Good." He smiles assuringly before slowly spreading your legs further. "You're so cute waiting for me."

“Just cute?”

He shakes his head, finally positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes are stuck on you: your hair, face, neck, chest. "You're sweet too," he teases, pushing inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan silently. It feels so good to feel him inside you again. “Sweet? Anything else?” You voice comes out so breathy.

"Smart. Nerdy." He leans in, putting more of his weight onto his elbows. "Beautiful. Brave. Loud and adorable."

“Brave?” You look confused while biting your bottom lip, trying not to make a loud sound.

"Aren't you?" He smiles, starting to thrust a little faster, but not enough to make it impossible to speak. At least for now. "Brave to move on from a failed engagement. Brave to live with your friend here. Brave to accept our date. Brave to test me." His laugh is so contagious.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. “You think I tested you?” Your lips are inches away from his.

"I know you did." He kisses you, not waiting for you to do it as he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder. "At the fair." He sounds out of breath this time, his thrusts hitting a little deeper.

You wanna say you didn’t, that it wasn’t a test. It is something that happened, and you don’t regret it, but instead, a loud moan escapes your mouth. The angle change fills you with a different kind of pleasure.

"What a responsive doll you are." He smiles against your neck. "So perfect for me." You pull your legs, spreading your legs even further to give him more space to move. It makes his thrusts feel even better somehow. "Jesus, this is..." He's trying to find the perfect words to describe how he feels, but there are none. "Heaven."

“Oh, god!” It’s hard to keep your voice down when he latches onto the closest nipple, Whatever he’s doing with that tongue, it helps you to feel better down there. It’s driving you closer to your release.

"I'm your god now?" He jokes, stopping the sucking for a few seconds just to tease you.

“Yes! Yes, you are. Keep doing that and I will worship you later.”

He doesn't just continue lick and suck on your breast, he also starts thrusting deeper than before. The sound of the bed moving is even more obvious now. There is no way your neighbors don't know what is happening.

“Shit!” It’s so hard not to curse when he’s pounding like that, hitting all the right spots. “I’m so close,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. “Just keep going, don’t change anything.”

"Just like this?" He asks, keeping the same pace as you asked. "Are you going to be good and enjoy yourself?"

“You have no idea…” You try to collect yourself to form a sentence. “How good I feel right now.”

"I do," he says breathlessly before letting his teeth and tongue mark your neck. The pain you feel somehow enhances the pleasure, and you suddenly find yourself throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, and moaning his name over and over again. You’re coming so hard. "I feel like... Doll, please, say my name again."

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” It’s all you wanna say anyway. “Please, don’t stop. Please!” You have no idea why you’re begging. You know he won’t stop, yet you still wanna do it. You still wanna beg him not to stop. It feels that good, that precious.

"Never." He manages to answer you between moans. "I'd rather die."

“Oh god, I think I…” Pleasure keeps hitting you in waves. “I might be dying myself.” You never had an orgasm this long. Your whole body is tensed up. You can actually hear your ears ringing.

"Gonna come for you, pretty doll." He bites your neck on another spot.

“Please, please.” It’s like you forgot all the other words. You watch him through a haze how he reaches his orgasm, saying your name like a whisper as he suddenly stays still inside you.

After he finishes, you close the distance and give him a big kiss. Sloppy and loving. It feels like you are thanking him for all the pleasure he’s just given you.

"Hi." He smiles. "Are you good?"

“God! I feel like I am still on the clouds.” You caress his face, carefully admiring his features. “What about you?”

He smiles. "I'm in heaven."

“Does it always feel this good?” The words come out of your mouth unintentionally. You really didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It was just a thought. “I mean, I don’t know what you are doing different to make it feel so good. I didn’t experience this before.” You keep rambling, trying to explain yourself. “So I wonder if it is supposed to feel this good all the time. But I’m not trying to question your past or anything. Don’t get me wrong.” You would keep talking if he didn’t cut you off.

"Breathe, baby. No, it doesn't feel like this with everyone else because you don't always have a connection. I am so glad to hear I made you happy." He smiles like a fool.

You cover your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry. It feels like it’s something you keep to yourself.”

"What? No. Ask me and I'll answer."

You finally take your hands off your face.

“Okay. I have another question then.” He’s still inside you. and you can feel him getting hard again. “Is it normal that you are already getting hard inside me this quickly?”

He groans. "Told you, you felt amazing."

“That’s not my question, though. Is this normal for you? You always get hard this quickly after coming?” You insist because you wanna know. You have a feeling there’s something different about him, and you wanna prove it to him.

He has no idea about your intention, though. He’s worried that he’s hurting you, so in a few seconds, he quickly gets out of you.

"Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He raises from the bed, taking off the used condom as he walks to the nightstand. "And yes, I do become hard like this. Why?"

“You didn’t hurt me.” You want to quickly clear that up. “And you know it takes at least half an hour for other men, right? That’s not… how it normally works.”

Bucky laughs. "They haven't met you."

“I’m talking from experience this time. In this case, they met me. This has nothing to do with me.”

He rolls the second condom on as he speaks. "Maybe I'm a lucky man."

“Okay, you are ignoring too many signs. I have to prove it to you. Bring me that small mirror.”

Bucky starts laughing, but he does what you ask him to, then coming back.. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

You sit on his lap, and just like that he’s back inside you.

“Welcome back.” You joke with a smile. “Now gimme the mirror.” He hands it over, and without explaining anything, you lean down, gently licking and sucking on a certain spot.

Bucky tries desperately not to thrust his hips. After a while, you start to bite his neckless gently, which makes you feel a little guilty.

He doesn't seem to mind though. Quite the contrary. "You can bite harder.”

“Hmm…” If he doesn’t mind, you don’t mind biting harder either. So you do it again, dragging the skin with your teeth. “God, you’re so delicious.”

His hands find their way to your breasts, making sure not to grab them too hard. You bite the same spot again, fand a red spot is already forming.

"Little artist," he says when you reach for the mirror, turning it to him so he can see his neck. It’s clearly dark red. "See? You gave me a hickey. Congrats, baby." He smiles proudly and kisses your cheek.

“Let’s see how long it will take you to heal.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I just have a ticker skin, baby. Now come on, please, do something. Why are you torturing me?"

“I’m a small, adorable girl. I don’t know how I am supposed to move.” You are fully lying, and he knows it. So he decides to play your game.

"Bounce a little. Up and down."

You act like you are trying and failing. “Like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. "Try again. Change the angle a bit."

“Oh, come on, Bucky.” You whine. You love and hate how he quickly catches up to whatever you try to do.

"You should be a good little girl and try it yourself."

“Fine.” You frown and start moving for real this time, and he immediately wraps his arms properly around your waist.

"What's wrong?"

“I was teasing you, so you would get tired of it and take control.”

He smiles. "I know."

In response, you punch him in his shoulder. “Then why didn’t you?”

"Why would I give you what you want now?" His voice drops lower. "Wanna push your limits."

“My limits?” You repeat as he brushes your nipples. “You wanna torture me? Make me desperate? Is that what it is?”

Bucky smiles, getting his lips close to yours again, but before he can kiss you, he takes you by the back of the head and moves you. You whine when he gets out of you.

“Bucky! What the fuck?”

"I need you to trust me, okay?" He tries to help get on all fours as he speaks. You nod in agreement. "Need your ass a little higher."

“My ass?” You sound a little afraid. You are definitely not ready for that if that’s his intention.

"Yes." He doesn't notice the change in your tone right away. "Promise I don't- oh, I don't plan on doing anything like that I promise. Just trust me."

You take a deep breath of relief. “Okay.”

"Put your weight on your elbows, okay?" You do as he asks. You switch the weight, putting your head down while your ass goes higher. "Do you feel comfortable?"

“It’s a little weird, but not uncomfortable.”

"Ready?"

“Yes!” You sound impatient, and he quickly pushes inside you. Not too much, afraid he might hurt you in any way. It must feel way deeper like this, and he doesn't want to risk it.

"God," he finds himself moaning. "You feel so good." You can’t respond to him though. All you can do is just moan. It feels incredible. "All good?"

“Yeah.” Your voice feels a little different. Raspy. “You can move.”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before finally trying out a few slow thrusts. "How does it feel?"

“Good. Really good.” It’s like your vocabulary disappears when you two have sex. It’s hard to form sentences or express yourself.

"How about this?" He asks while moving much faster. It's something about this angle that gives him more room to use his strength.

“Jesus Christ!” You mumble. How can it feel this good?

"I don't think I can last as long as before." He groans as he watches you shiver under him. The way you sound like this, your position, the way you feel... He's on another planet.

“I don’t think you have to.” It’s unbelievable how close you are. It’s normally not that easy for you, but things are different when you are with him.

He keeps the same pace, focusing on your moans and the sound of your skin slapping. His mouth somehow manages to find your shoulder and he licks the same spot for a few seconds, making you shiver. "So sweet for me."

Even though you love how he is licking and talking into you ear, him leaning in changes the angle and the pace. It’s not as rough as it was before, and you find yourself moving your hips back, trying to get more friction.

"Look at that." He smiles against your shoulder, sounding fascinated. "Someone is unhappy with my services."

“Not unhappy.” You definitely aren’t. “It’s just… my hips don’t listen to me anymore.”

"Oh, no," Bucky comments amused before getting back to his initial position. "Your poor hips."

You know he isn’t mocking you for real but something about it irritates you. So you stop moving your hips. “Better?”

He lifts his eyebrow even though he knows you can't see him. "Hmm." You suddenly feel a slap on your ass. You make a sound that can only be described as a half moan half yelp.

"What was that?" Another spank follows. This time you’re moaning when the burning feeling spreads on your ass cheek completely. You feel the urge to move your hips again, but you refrain yourself.

"Look at you, bratty little cat. You're getting wetter because of this." He's so excited as he rubs your cheeks with both of his hands, but you can do this later. He's too close. You are, too. And just like that, he's back to fucking you. He doesn't go back to his gentle rhythm. Surprisingly, his thrusts are deep and fast.

“Oh my god!” The rhytm is finally the way you wanted it again. Instinctively, you lean in a bit more, and your head gets buried in the bed while your ass is a little higher than before.

"Jesus, doll." He cries out, feeling so overwhelmed. "I'm so close. So... so close."

Your hand moves to your clit, touching yourself just the way you like it, even though it feels so hard to do while he’s pounding you. That’s all you need to finally reach the climax. You're not quiet at all despite your failed attempt to muffle your moans with your pillow. And Bucky feels like that's it. He doesn't even manage to warn you that he’s following you and coming hard. He softly moans your name after he finishes, falling onto your back just to feel your skin.

His hands wrap around your body and you let yourself fall with him. The indescribable pleasure you felt is still running through your whole body.

"Wow!"

You laugh a little, trying to turn your head. You wanna see him, kiss him, and maybe tease him a little, but he's already prepping kisses all over your neck, then your back.

“You are crushing me,” you say jokingly but it’s half true.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately gets off you, throwing himself on the bed completely.

“Don’t go that far away though.” You exaggerate a little, opening your arms. You want him as close as possible.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to bury his head into your boobs. "Hmm, perfect. I’m in heaven with you and these babies." He kisses both of your breasts to emphasize what he means.

You can’t help but snort. “Babies?”

"Yes, my babies. My dolls."

“I thought they were mine.”

Bucky puffs before snuggling even more. "Only mine."

“And I have no say in this?” You joke again, and he shakes his head. “Does it mean this…” You grab his dick gently. It’s soft and the condom is dangling. “...is mine?”

His whine is so loud, making you giggle. "Of course it's yours."

“Oh, I love this deal.” You use your thumb and index finger to take the condom off.

"Fuck." He closes his eyes.

“Sensitive?”

"A little."

“That’s okay.” You give him a little kiss on the head, then move a little so you can tie the condom up. That makes you see the hickey on his neck again, which is almost gone. You put the condom away and reach for the mirror you used before.

"What?"

“Remember the lovely hickey I gave you?” Bucky nods. “Wanna see it now?” You lift the mirror so he can take a look. He expected to see only a faded pink mark, but instead the skin is intact as if you never bit him.

"How!?"

“That’s my question exactly.”

"What the fuck is going on?" His hand goes to the place your mark used to be and there's no trace of any teeth. "Holy cow."

“I think you are healing faster than any of us.” You stop for a second. “Like Steve.”

Bucky's eyes immediately find yours. "You don't mean..."

“I don’t know what I mean, to be honest, because I don’t know any details. Like… Did you participate in whatever they did to him? Or maybe it’s something transmittable, I don’t know.”

You see him going pale all of the sudden, and your heart drops. He seems to know what caused this.

"They must have done something to me when I was captured. But I didn't change like he did." He looks so confused, like he’s trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I'm not like Steve."

“You were captured?!” That’s all you focus on. You have to know.

"I was." He sighs, placing the mirror on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. "By Hydra. Long story short, my unit and I were sent at some point at a weapon facility in Europe. In Austria... We were forced to work on an advanced bomber plane. I have no idea what happened to that, but I was so..." Bucky closes his eyes. "I was starving, losing weight every day. I was so weak I couldn't continue, so they did something else."

“Dear God.” You are completely shocked. “Are you okay?”

"I was basically a test subject for a crazy doctor. I thought they just tested different things for a death serum. But now I am not sure at all." He's so lost in his memories now. He is clearly not like Steve, but it's so weird how his health reports were fine. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about it any longer. "I'm more than well when I'm with you." He finally answers your question.

“I’m glad you are here with me.” You give him a full kiss, thinking about all the possibilities, everything that could’ve happened before you two had the chance to meet. You wouldn’t even know who he is and that somehow hurts more.

"You're so precious." He hugs you so tightly you feel like you're about to cry.

You try not the think about how he could’ve been still a captive. You can’t imagine how horrible that experience must be, but you don’t wanna cry. Not when he’s in your arms like this.

“Wanna test out how super you are?” You suggests instead. A change of subject can help you both.

"Want me to cook for you? Going to prove to you I am marriage material after all." He smiles.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Marriage?” That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

"Don't mind me, doll. What did you have in mind?"

“No, no, no. You can’t say that and leave it at that.”

Bucky strokes your hair. "What else can I say? I'm embarrassing myself."

“Embarrassing yourself? Nope, you aren’t.” You shake your head. “You are giving me hope but don’t do it if you don’t mean it, okay?”

"Of course I mean it," he immediately says, not letting you doubt even for a second. "But I thought... it is a bit early. I didn't want to be overbearing."

“It’s not. I know we don’t know each other that well yet and we might change our minds later. I’m not taking this as a promise or anything.”

"Well," he raises your hand and brings it to his mouth just to place a soft kiss on it. "I would be lucky if you wanted me after all of this." You give him a confused look, and he clarifies: "This whole weird healing thing and my sad story." He snorts, belittling himself. You are not having any of this though.

“I think it’s…” You try to find the right words. “really hot, and I really wanna test your limits because I think your healing applies to your… recovery, too. Remember how quickly you got hard again?”

Bucky laughs. "So it's all about this, huh?"

“What? Don’t you wanna find out if I am right?”

"I don't have another condom, love." He sighs.

“I mean we did it without a condom before.” It’s the truth, but it feels so weird to ask for more after having great sex. You should be content with it, but no, your body craves more.

Bucky kisses your shoulder again.

"I know, but we risked it. I don't want to make you take a risk. Even if I don't spill inside you..." You don’t like the fact that he’s right. What you don’t realize is that your face is showing what you are thinking. "I can use my tongue if you want." He smiles, trying to find another solution.

“The point is testing your limits, Sergeant.”

"My limits of my tongue count." He kisses you for a few seconds.

“You are so annoying, rejecting my offer, Sargaent.”

Bucky gasps. "I did not! I just tried to look out for you."

“It’s okay.” You make a move to get up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He grabs you by your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

“I’m just listening to what you are saying.”

He frowns. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy?"

“Because you rejected this…” You show yourself. “A pretty girl’s offer for more sex.

"My pretty girl wants sex even without protection?"

“She does.” You purse your lips, feeling a bit vulnerable and trying to cover it.

"Then…" He pulls you closer and kisses you gently, holding your face with both of his hands.

“You love torturing me,” you say between kisses.

"Not as much as you do."

"Wanna do the honors or should I?" He grabs his cock with a hand, waiting for you to move or just say something.

“Oh, be my guest. Do whatever you wanna do. Just pull out in time.”

"Promise." He kisses you before getting inside you in one swift motion.

There are no words to describe how tired you feel. Exhausted comes close, but it doesn’t cover the pleasure you are still feeling despite your jelly legs. You aren’t sure if you made the best or the worst decision of your life when you suggested testing his limits because you lost the count of the orgasms you had. You are ruined. Simply ruined by him. No man will ever compare.

"Did I pass?" Bucky asks breathlessly, holding you against his chest. “Am I husband material?"

You can’t believe he is still wondering that. This wasn’t meant to be a husband material test, but you gotta admit that he passed with flying colors.

“You know we weren’t testing that, right?”

"Such a loss." He plays amused. "What did we test then?"

“How quickly your body can recover, and now we can safely say that you are not a regular guy.”

Bucky sighs. "Then what am I?"

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” You run your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before giving him a big kiss. You wonder why he wants to be a regular guy. He’s perfect the way he is.

Bucky immediately melts under you. "That's not nice. You read my thoughts and use them against me," he explains more emotionally than before.

“Maybe we are just sharing the same thoughts and feelings.”

"We are a perfect match."

“It seems so.” You quickly agree. “And you are perfect the way you are. I get that you don’t know what exactly this is but it seems cool so far.” You try to put his mind at ease. “And no one knows about it. You don’t have to be like Steve, you can keep being yourself.”

"You're so sweet." He leaves a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’m not usually sweet. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking.” You joke to lighten the mood.

He snorts. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

“Now that’s a lie.” You keep the same tone.

"If that's a lie, I am a normal guy."

“That’s even a bigger lie. You are nowhere close to being a normal guy. Normal guys suck.”

Bucky's fingers travel to your belly. "Is that so?"

“No, no, no.” You try to avoid getting tickled. “Bucky, please.”

"Say you're the sweetest girl in the world, and I might show you some mercy."

“Fine, fine, fine.” You accept the defeat. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world. Okay?”

"I can't hear you." He tickles you harder.

“BUCKY!” You protest, but he doesn’t stop. “I’M THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.”

"Good." He finally lets go, grabbing your face just to give you the sloppiest kiss you've ever shared. “Now close your eyes. You need to sleep."

You wanna be mad at him for tickling you hard, but you can’t.

“Oh, I gotta clean myself a little first.”

“Let me help you. Where do you keep your towels?"

You already thought he was perfect, but he’s showing you he’s even better than you thought. How is he real? How did you get this lucky? You don’t know.

“Just sit down, baby. I can handle those.”

"Let's make a deal: I change the sheets while you clean if you want." You wanna say no and you can handle those. but you are so tired.

“Sounds like a good plan.” You can’t deny that it’s efficient, and you wanna see if he can do it right. This is the real marriage material test, but he won’t know until you see the results. You hand him the new sheets and leave him to work, so you can clean yourself pretty quickly.

You really made a big mess. Cleaning takes longer than you expected, but when you come back, you find a freshly made bed.

"Ready for bed now?"

“Yeah.” You inspect the sheets. He made the bed perfectly. “Unbelievable.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out anyway. “Perfectly made. I think I will have to marry you, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smiles widely. "So I passed my test?"

“Yep.” You move onto the bed. “If you can cook as well, I won’t ever let you go. Say goodbye to your bachelor days.”

Bucky pulls you to him. "Goodbye, bachelor days."

You laugh while kissing him.

“Let’s sleep.” You snuggle closer while he yawns.

You have been awake for a couple of minutes, just trying to fully wake up and freely watch Bucky sleeping. He looks so pretty and innocent.

Long lashes, kissable lips, big arms. God, why does he have to be this pretty?

You lean in, with the intention to give him a kiss like a normal person, but god, those arms look so biteable. Before you can change your mind, you bite his arm and watch him slowly wake up. Then you start giving him small kisses: on his arm, on his cheeks, and finally when he opens his eyes, on his lips.

"Good morning." He gives you an innocent look.

“Good morning, handsome.” You kiss his cheek again.

"Handsome?" His voice is so raspy in the morning.

“Yeah, handsome. Very very handsome.”

He smiles when you snuggle closer to him. "So sweet. I have a question. Do you have a toothbrush for me?" His eyes are semi-closed as he asks.

“Oh, sure. I can find one.”

"I didn't realize I will stay over. I'm sorry for wasting one of yours."

“Oh, shut up.” You push him a little playfully. “You can waste anything you want.”

You come closer to give him a kiss. You don’t care about the toothbrush or anything else. You are just enjoying being in bed with him.

"My breath smells really bad." He shakes his head, embarrassed. You shrug and give him a kiss anyway. You are sure your breath doesn’t smell good either, but that doesn’t stop you. "Such a stubborn lady."

“I just don’t care, and for your information, it doesn’t smell bad.” You keep kissing him.

"If you continue, doll, we might end up doing something else."

“Hmm.” You act like you don’t know what that means.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, hmm.”

"What can it mean?"

“No idea.” You don’t move away, you don’t kiss him. You just look at him.

"Okay then." He gives you an innocent look. "Time for me to go to the bathroom."

You kiss his cheek, giving him space to get up. He pouts a bit disappointed but doesn't say anything.

“What?”

"Nothing. So where do I find a toothbrush?" He finally gets up.

“I will show you.” You follow him to the bathroom.

"Also, do you have any allergies?”

His question catches you off guard. “Not that I know off. Why?”

"Gonna cook something for you."

“You really want that ring, don’t you?” You joke with a big smile on your face.

His laugh fills the bathroom. "You want to give me a ring?"

“How else am I gonna make sure others know you are taken?”

"You don't need a ring for that. At all."

“Yeah, you are right. I was just joking.”

He smiles. "Wait for me in the bed. Whatever happens, you stay there, okay?"

“Okay.” You raise your hands in defeat.

"Good girl, go now." He pats your ass before letting you go.

You can’t help but smile on your way back to the bed. If this is how being married to Bucky is gonna be, you are down for it.

"Come on, another bite. Please."

“Fine.” You take another bite. It’s delicious but you are full. So full. The breakfast he made was simply amazing. You might really need to find a ring to put on him, because he’s definitely husband material.

"Good girl, and drink more water."

“I’m so full,” you say after taking a sip. “The food was just amazing.”

"You're full, huh?" He snorts.

“I am.” You give him a look, not understanding what he means.

"I think you can take more."

“No more food, please.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Bucky gives you a smirk. "That is not what I meant."

“Oh!” You finally get it and start to giggle wile takes a bite of pancakes from your plate.

"Oh, indeed."

“You wanna?”

"Do you?" He stares back.

“You are so annoying.”

"Annoying enough to get you to kiss me?"

You give him a short kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

"I didn't have mine, though."

“You can eat this.” You offer your leftovers. You’re sure that they’re more than enough to make him feel full, too.

"But I don't want that.” He whines. "I want you."

“You can have me.”

"Want you on my face."

“Again?” You sound surprised. “I thought you would want something that you would enjoy as well.”

"Excuse you? I enjoy that." His tone shows that he’s totally offended.

“Oh, you do?”

Bucky laughs so loud. "I cannot believe it wasn't clear."

“I mean… I’m not used to that. Maybe that’s why.”

"The question is if you’d like to do that again."

“Oh, yeah.” You nod eagerly. “I would love that.”

"Then…" He places the food carefully on the table next to the bed.

You bite your lip while getting up and taking your underwear off. He watches you excited as he gets on his back completely, waiting. This time you know what to do. So you get back to the bed and straddle his face.

"Use me however you want, okay? Don't stop."

“Tap on my thighs if you want me to stop, okay?” He nods and you lower yourself completely. He doesn’t even wait for a few seconds. “Jesus, Bucky.” You breath out. It’s hard not to make a sound when he works that enthusiastically. He doesn't say anything in return, too focused on spreading your lips with his tongue. You moan loudly and start to ride his face, and you realize shortly he loves it as his hands help you quicken your pace just the way you like it.

“Oh, god…” You try to get support from the headboard. “This feels so good.”

He groans against you, so hard, thrusting his hips in the air because you taste amazing.

You start to move a little faster as you feel like you are getting closer to your release. His nose starts to bump up against your clit from time to time and that adds an another level of pleasure.

"Keep going," he says breathlessly before taking you by surprise and slapping your ass twice.

“Fuuck. I’m- I’m so close.”

"Hmm." He slaps your right ass cheek one more time as his tongue moves to your clit. The sounds you are making don’t sound human anymore. You are aware of it, but it’s so hard to care when you start to come so hard on his tongue. He doesn't let go or stop licking you until he feels you are done, then he gently helps you move.

"Hi."

“Ahh.” You struggle to find your voice. “Hi.”

He giggles while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel good?"

“God, I’m keeping you. That’s it. That was my last drop.”

Bucky moans excited. "Are you proposing to me, love?"

“Well, not like this, and I gotta buy a ring first,” you jokingly answer.

"Hmm." He brings you close to his face so he can kiss you. "Maybe I will accept."

“Maybe? What can I do to guarantee a yes?”

Bucky smiles. "Who knows?"

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

"No need for that."

“Wouldn’t that help though? I wanna increase my chances.” You continue with that same joking tone.

"A little. What is your plan?"

“Give you head and then propose I guess.”

He suddenly blushes. “I didn’t expect you to say it so openly but love to hear what you think."

“Then I will keep speaking like this.” You move your face to give him a kiss on the lips. “So… You want it or not?”

Bucky nods and dutifully stays on his back, opening his legs more. You carefully undress him and settle between his legs. He’s already half hard and he looks so pretty laying like that, waiting for your next move. You start slowly, just moving your hands up and down, letting him enjoy it.

You lean down and start leaving kisses to him all over his skin. "Ahh." You move onto his thighs, placing your hand on his cock without moving it.

"Gonna torture me?"

“Is this your definition of torture?”

"I'm a man."

“And I am a woman who enjoys what she is doing.” You don’t give him a chance to respond. You run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock.

"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes.

“Open your eyes if you want me to continue.”

"Sorry..." he groans, opening them.

“Look at me the whole time, okay? Watch what I am doing to you. Think about this moment whenever you feel like giving up.” Then you finally take him inside your mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." His hands immediately get into your hair. "N-no warning?" You shake your head while your mouth is full of him. "I don't think I could forget this even if I wanted to."

You hum around his cock before you start to properly bob your head. You try to look at him, memorizing his reactions and see what he likes the most.

"Use your tongue more around the head, please."

You do what he asks, twirling your tongue around the head and watching him fall apart.

"Baby," he hisses. "Just like that."

You wrap your hand around the base after taking your mouth off it. Your fingers work on him while you take one of his balls inside your mouth, gently sucking to see if he likes it or not. He's so close as he bites his bottom lip.

"You're a dirty little girl.” You hum in response, your mouth being too full to be able to answer him. "Wanna paint your face." It feels like the words are just spilling from his mouth.

You finally let go of his ball.

“My face, huh?” You ask before taking him back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head once again.

"You're a dirty girl, and I have to a make you dirtier. Would you like that?"

You shake your head in agreement, then you start moving your mouth and hand at the same time, going up and down until he quickly pulls out when he feels he's coming. And just like that, your face and hair are getting covered. You close your eyes and for some reason stick your tongue out.

"God, baby. You drive me insane." He finishes coming and stares at the way you lick some of his come. You can only open one of your eyes as his come is dripping on the other one. Then you wipe it off from your eyelid and lick it clean. "And you will make me get hard again."

“We know that doesn’t take much.” You giggle, remembering last night.

"You're so pretty like this. I can't..." He smiles watching you clean yourself more.

“I am not sure about that.” You smile. “I should go and clean myself properly.”

"Should we take a bath?" He excitedly asks

“Oh, that sounds great.”

Bucky helps her get up. "Let's go."

"Look at this," he leans in to kiss your forehead, taking the cup from you. "Thank you."

“After last night and this morning, the coffee was needed. At least for me.”

"I am human too, you know? I need coffee."

“You are a super human.” You smile before taking a sip.

"I hope my tongue is a super tongue, too." He winks and takes a few sips from his coffee. "So good. Now, I have something and I forgot to give it to you since we were... busy."

“Oh?”

Bucky nods and brings his hand into his left pocket. "Like I promised." Then he takes out a small wrapped up package.

“What is this?” You take it and quickly open it without destroying the wrapping. “Oh my god, Bucky! You got me new stockings!”

“Wanna try them on?"

“Right now?” You are surprised by his request.

"Yep. If you want, of course."

“You just want me to get undressed in front of you again.” You joke while standing up. You don’t mind trying them at all.

"Don't act as if you don't."

“See you get undressed or get undressed myself?” You take the stockings out of the package while talking.

"Both.” He watches you as you put them on, fascinated. “How do they feel?"

“They feel really nice.” You move your leg a little, inspecting the stockings. “High quality. Where did you even find this?”

"Pulled some strings. Being a soldier has its perks, you know? Being friends with Captain America, too."

“You did not!”

"What?" He laughs at your tone.

“You used your Captain America advantage to get me stockings?”

"Yep."

“Oh my god!” You have a huge smile on your face when you are walking toward him. And without a word, you sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you. These are much better than the ones you ripped off.” You give him a kiss on his right cheek. “So you get a kiss.”

"So generous." He kisses you properly.

“Such a gentleman.” You pause for a few seconds before adding. “With dirty tendencies.”

"Well, I got a dirty girlfriend."

“Please, I’m pretty innocent.” You move away from his lap. “We didn’t even meet up in my apartment because that would be inappropriate.” You finally snort. “At least that’s what my friends think.”

"And you call them friends?"

“Gotta keep my reputation intact.” You shrug. That’s the way it is. “Oh, speaking of friends! I gotta ask you something otherwise Cassie will kill me.”

"What?"

“She wanted me to ask about Steve. Apparently, she hasn’t heard from him.”

"Oh…" It's all that Bucky says.

“Oh?”

"I didn't know."

“She wants to know if he ever mentions her.”

He doesn't know how to answer for a couple of seconds. Steve has never been into romance. "He's very focused on the future plans against Hydra."

“Well, that’s not surprising. If he thought about her, he would find a way to contact her, I guess.”

"He doesn't think about pretty much anyone, I am sorry."

You shrug. “I hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”

"I am sorry. Steve is very... particular. About life and work. He wanted to be in the army for so long, he doesn't see anything else."

“That’s… sad.” You reach for the coffee mug. “What about you?”

"Obviously not interested in sex or romantic life." He jokes once again, hoping that it would change the mood.

“I meant about life and work, but we can talk about that too,” you say with a smile.

"I don't like fighting, you know? It's never ending." Even his voice sounds tired as he talks about it.

“I sensed that you don’t enjoy fighting, but I think you are pretty good at it. At least it seems that way, and I feel like you aren’t focused on the fight, but mostly on what can come after when this is all done.”

Bucky sighs, approving what you said with a nod. There is something scary and confusing about what the future. If he survives. What will change? After so much death and loss, what will happen?

"I hate this so much."

You have this urge to hug him and tell him it’s gonna be fine. Yet you don’t know if that’s the truth and you don’t wanna lie. “I hate it, too. It’s like our lives are completely revolving around the war.“

"Yes, but let's not think about it, baby." He kisses your forehead.

“It’s easier not to think about it when you are around.”

"You help me with that, too."

“Oh, do I?” You smile. “What do you think about instead of war when you are with me?”

"I think only about you."

“Another thing we have in common.”

Bucky smiles. "You're so smooth."

“Smooth? I meant I am thinking about myself, too.” You stick your tongue out a bit cheekily.

"Nice try." He snorts, amused by your comment. "I totally understand why you'd think about yourself, though."

“Why would I think about myself?” You wanna know what he’s thinking.

"You're funny, amazing, beautiful, smart." He kisses your cheeks. "You got everything."

“And what about you?”

"What about me?" He asks confused.

“What do you have?”

"Strings to buy you more stockings."

“Oh!” You both start to laugh. “That’s not all, though.”

"Right, I also got Captain America as my friend."

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs. "I don't have much to offer unfortunately. I have 4 siblings."

“Jesus, do you really not know?”

"If you mean sexually..."

“Not only that. Stop underestimating yourself, you have a lot to offer. Look at me.” He lifts his head as you asked. “I love spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, it’s always interesting. You are smart, funny, thoughtful and so so pretty.”

Bucky melts under your eyes. "No one called me pretty before."

“You are so pretty, you have no idea. These eyes…” You touch the corner of his eyelid. “These lines,” You caress the smile lines. “These lips…”

He blushes instantly feeling your touch and brings your hand closer to his lips in order to kiss it. "You're so sweet."

After spending a little bit more time in your apartment, you and Bucky decide to go for a walk. He’s here for a limited amount of time and he should make the most of it. Maybe you can stop by a book or a record store together, eat something he craves and enjoy this sunny day to the fullest. You don't even realize how close you are until you feel his hand touching yours, subtly trying to hold it.

You feel butterflies in your stomach. You did a lot of stuff together so far, but you haven’t held hands yet. Not publicly. Not like this. You open your hand, just showing you want him to hold it, and he does proudly.

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetheart?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It’s so hard to fight the urge to smile. This might be the best day of your life. The sun is shining, Bucky is by your side, holding your hand. You don’t think life gets better than this.

“I would love that.” He smiles before leaning in to kiss your head. Suddenly, you feel the urge to say what you have been thinking. He should know.

“You know that I will wait for you if you want, right?” You can’t help it. All the marriage and proposal jokes aside, you really want him in your life.

Bucky stops walking suddenly. "Doll..." He sighs, still holding your hand. "I don't want to make you go through this."

“You think I won’t go through it if we act like this means nothing, but you are wrong.”

"I did not say that! This is not nothing, but I can't be engaged to you and leave you behind like this."

“Who said anything about being engaged?”

"We talked about getting married a lot. So I thought..."

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just meant that we don’t have to get engaged if that’s your concern.”

"I don't know. Either way I can't let you go through that." He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is for her to wait for him not knowing if he will survive. "Because if I die..."

“If you die… I would be devastated regardless. It doesn’t matter even if we decide not to see each other anymore.”

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he pulls you to him in the tightest hug you've ever felt.

"I don't want to lose you."

“Believe me, I don’t wanna lose you, either.” You wrap your hands around his body, burying your face into his chest. “My kidnapping offer still stands.”

You hear him snort. "You're just making up excuses to have me tied up."

“Do I need to?”

"No." He breaks the hug and reaches out for your hand again. "My future wife doesn't need excuses. You're stuck with me."

“And you are stuck with me.”

2K notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 18 days

Text

Evidence of a Date {Tim Rockford x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN(ish), snuff films, power of suggestion, hypnosis, compulsory need to fuck, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral sex (male and female receiving)

Comments: Asked to assist Detective Rockford with finding evidence on a supposed snuff tape, you find it to be very different from what either one of you were expecting. Leading you to some surprising outcomes.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Tim Rockford MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Getting called into the Captain’s office is never a good thing. No matter how clean you keep your nose or what rank you are, even as a Detective. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Knocking and opening the door, you are surprised to see Rockford sitting in a chair opposite the captain’s desk.

“Come in, shut the door.” He waves you in and your stomach twists, wondering what the hell is going on. You’ve worked with Tim before, but not recently. You’ve been too busy with your own caseload. “I need you to do something for me.” Captain Carnell is a no bullshit man, a pragmatist who hated sitting behind a desk. “Tim’s got a video he needs to go through, evidence.” You frown slightly, unsure why that should have any impact on you. “It’s a snuff film, supposedly and the forensic team refuses to touch it.” He grumbles and you still don’t quite understand.

Tim shuffles awkwardly. “I need to watch it. And I need another set of eyes.” Your head turns towards him. “You can keep your mouth shut, unlike 90% of the others around here.” It’s true, cops like to gossip and if it is a snuff film, the details need to be kept quiet while the investigation is ongoing.

“I see. And that’s why you called me in?” You ask the captain.

“Yes.” Carnell nods. “Tim asked if your cases could be transferred and you to help him on this, and I think it’s a good idea. That way there’s no talk of sexism if the case goes nowhere.”

You nod. “Of course.” You agree, not sure if you’re dreading watching the video or spending all your time with Tim more. It’s hard working with someone that you are hopelessly attracted to and know that it’s unrequited. “I’ll move my cases over to Robertson and we can get on the case right away.”

Your captain nods, “excellent. After closing time, go to the break room. He’s secured the room so it will be just you two.” Tim nods, crossing his arms and you glance between the two men. “Go back to your paperwork. Half an hour…the office will be closed up after everyone heads out and you can get started.”

You nod and Tim shuffles a little as he exits the office, holding the door open for you. “Thanks for helping with this. It’s - it could be the breakthrough we need and I know it’s gonna be hard to watch but I’m glad you’re helping me with it.” Tim says quietly as you stand in the hallway before you get to the bullpen.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know what to expect. Hopefully it’s not too gory, you have been to plenty of crime scenes, but you had hoped to go to a party tonight after work. Even if you stay late to work on the case, you could get there later. “We’ll watch the tape and then make any notes before we go back through it again.”

Tim nods, reaching out to squeeze your upper arm. He can’t help but think you look gorgeous today. Well, every day really but you’d never want him. He’s older. He’s divorced and has a ten year old son. He’s got baggage and you deserve the world. With a sigh, he makes his way back to his desk, eager to finish the work day to spend time with you. God, he’s pathetic. He’s desperate to spend time with you. Even if it means watching a snuff tape. The day seems to drag by and finally he sees his colleagues starting to pack up and he wipes his hands on his pants, glancing across the room to your desk.

Your cases have been passed off you and endured the grumbling, telling Robertson to talk to the captain if he had a problem with it. Finishing up some paperwork while you wait for everyone else to go home. “You leaving?” One of the other detectives comes by your desk on his way out.

“No.” You shake your head and look down at your file. “Backlog of paperwork. Captain’s on my ass about it.” You know most of them have every intention of heading down to the bar for happy hour. “Drink a beer for me though, okay?”

Tim is asked the same thing except he got waggled eyebrows as most of them know about his crush on you…everyone except you apparently. He sighs and pushes back from his desk after everyone is gone. “You want a coffee before we get started? I’ve got…something to add if you want to take the edge off.” He says, pulling out a small flask as he looks at you.

“Detective Rockford.” You sound scandalized, but you grin as you pick up your coffee cup. “Absolutely.” You laugh as you start to walk towards the break room. “At least if we can’t go for happy hour, we can brace ourselves for what is to come.” You tell him, emptying out the sludge in the pot and setting it to make a fresh batch. Lord only knows how long you will end up staying. “So where did you get this tape from?”

Tim sits down and sets the flask down on the little coffee table in front of the sofa in the break room. He’s slept on the sofa before. Especially when he was trying to crack the case of the old woman who was murdered for her inheritance. It kept him up all night and he ended up sleeping in the office a few times while looking over the case. “I have an inside contact. He’s looking for immunity and he left me a copy of the tape. Some mafia bullshit…it’s heavy. Supposedly.” He tells you, watching you make the coffee.

“So don’t plan on wanting to eat, got it.” You frown, deciding it was a stupid idea to ask Tim if he wanted to go out to that little dinner down the road from your apartment anyway. You were work colleagues, not romantically linked. “As long as it’s not a kid, I’ll be fine.” You admit softly, looking up from where you are pouring sugar and creamer in your cup to get it ready for the coffee. “I hate when it’s kids. I can’t imagine how you feel, having your son.”

Tim shakes his head, rubbing his cheek. “That - any kid - it kills me. Wondering what I’d do…how id feel if someone - I think you’d be locking me up because I’d burn the fucking world if something happened to Billy.” Tim confesses and you come over to the sofa with your cup and a cup for him. “Thanks sweetheart.” He says, grabbing the remote. He doesn’t call you sweetheart in front of the other guys but you’ve always been close to his heart. “You ready?” He asks you, wanting to make sure you’re mentally prepared.

It’s almost embarrassing how much you enjoy when he calls you sweetheart, not taking offense to it at all. It’s almost like an endearment and you cherish it. “I’m ready.” You tell him after taking a deep breath, knowing you need to be professional.

He grabs the flask, pouring a generous amount of whiskey in each mug before he sets it down. “Just to take the edge off.” He says before he takes a sip and hits play on the tape. He’s tense beside you, waiting to see the gruesome scene unfold.

"I hope that we don't have to finish the flask and go find a bottle." You murmur as you immediately take a large sip of your doctored coffee. Enjoying the slight burn before a naked woman walks into the view of the camera. Obviously set up in some kind of bedroom. "Well, fuck." You hiss. "It's gonna be one of those snuff films."

Tim shifts awkwardly as the woman comes over to the camera, her tits swaying as she adjusts it before she steps back and a man appears behind her. “Yeah. I, uh, I wasn’t told that this was - yeah. Sorry.” He blushes slightly, knowing he’s secretly wondered what you look like naked more than enough times.

"It's okay." You take another sip of your coffee before you look over at Tim for a split second, eyes flying back to the tv. You watch as the man starts to massage the woman's tits. "It's not like I've never watched porn before." You tell him, wanting him to relax slightly. "Caucasian female, approximately mid to late twenties, brown hair, Caucasian male, mid forties, short blond hair." You observe. "It looks like there is a tattoo on his left bicep."

Tim had completely forgotten to take any notes, his mind shamefully thinking about you naked and him behind you palming your tits. He leans forward, clasping his hands together to force himself to pay attention. He watches the couple fondle each other and he feels guilty that you’re having to watch this. “I- I’m not sure if he’s the one that gets killed.” Tim says, paying attention as the man’s hand slides down to rub the clit of the woman.

"Most snuff films, it's the woman who's murdered." You huff quietly, biting your lip and frowning slightly when the screen flashes for a split second. "I-" you shake your head, afraid you might have just imagined it. The woman's moan hadn't stopped so you just continue to watch. Your cunt bottoms out when the man slaps her pussy and then starts to rub again, his other hand still toying with her right nipple. "He's left-handed?" You ask, not quite sure but it's a strong theory. "Most often men finger a woman with their dominant hand."

“This is supposed to be the tape of the victim.” Tim says, trying to work through the evidence despite his cock twitching, suddenly aroused and he puts that down to being close to you.

You hum and lean in, trying to pretend the foreplay in the video isn't erotic, or you aren't getting turned on. It's natural, that's what you are trying to convince yourself of. That your panties would be soaked already if you were just watching a normal porn, alone in your room where you could pretend your hand was Tim's. Clearing your throat, you swear you see the screen flash again, but the audio doesn't stop.

Tim swears he saw something flash on the screen but he doesn’t bother telling you. He is trying to conceal his rapidly hardening cock. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead and he wipes it with the back of his hand. “I - this isn’t a normal snuff tape.” He murmurs, confused as the man pushes his fingers into the woman, her moan echoing in the break room as the image flashes on screen again and he pays attention. “You see that?” He asks, curious if you’ve seen it.

You gasp, but you don't know if it's from the fact that Tim might have seen the same flashes you have, or from how warm you are getting. How your entire body seems to be lighting up, aching for someone, Tim, to touch you. "I- yes?" You almost ask as you try to keep from moaning quietly.

“What - What does it say?” He asks, wondering if you’ve seen it better than he did and he tugs on his tie, loosening it and undoing the top button. Suddenly overheated, he shifts his feet and his fingers flex as he smothers down the urge to touch you.

“I don’t know. It’s- it’s flashing too fast to read.” You know you should probably stop the tape and go back, but you can’t. “Is it- fuck, it’s hot in here, right?” You ask him, biting your lip when the woman cums on the tape, moaning softly as you wonder if Tim would finger you before he fucks you or if he would just shove his cock into your needy pussy.

“Yeah. It is.” Tim murmurs, suddenly boiling hot and he unbuttons a couple more buttons on his shirt, his tie pulled over his head to fling it down on the sofa. The man grabs the woman, dragging her to the bed and he wastes no time pushing into her, her moan echoing in the room and the screen flashes again. This time slower. The word ‘Fuck’ flashes again, and again. Tim is rock hard now, unable to tear his eyes away from the tv.

“It’s saying ‘Fuck’.” You breathe out, unsure why someone would cut that word into a snuff film. “Right?” Your cunt is throbbing and you squirm as you watch the couple fuck on the screen. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing regulated and you want to touch yourself, or have Tim touch you.

“Ye-yeah. That’s what I- shit. It’s so hot.” He says, unbuttoning another couple of buttons and he undoes the wrist buttons, rolling his sleeves up. ‘Fuck’ flashes up on the screen again and Tim grunts, unable to resist palming his cock through his pants. “So-sorry. I- shit. I’m so hard it hurts.” He confesses, “you should - you should go.” He says, trying to get you away from him before he breaks.

You snort, pressing your thighs together. “Of course you are. We are watching two attractive people have sex.” You reason. “And it’s been a long goddamn time since a man made me cum.

Tim frowns, turning his head for a second to look at you before he focuses on the screen again. “It has? How? You’re - Jesus. You’re gorgeous. I always thought you had a secret boyfriend or something and just didn’t tell us.” He admits as the man fucks the woman harder and the screen flashes again. ‘Fuck’ Flashes and almost burns in his retinas as he sees it when he blinks.

You squirm again, wanting to shove your hand into your panties and rub your clit. “No time to date.” You groan. “You know how it is. Long hours. Turbulent cases. I just- have a vibrator.” You hiss when the screen flashes again. “Fuck! Why does it keep telling me to fuck?” You cry.

Tim bites his lip, his gaze flicking between you and the screen. The man flips the woman over to push back inside of her, making her cry out. ‘Fuck’ flashes again and Tim shakes his head, “I don’t - shit - I can’t - I need to-” He surges forward to cup your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours as ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ repeats in his mind over and over again until he no longer controls himself.

It’s such a fucking relief to feel his lips against yours that you let out a small sob. Pulling him closer and pressing your entire body against his as ‘Fuck’ flashes in your mind again and again. Driven by some unseen force that is practically compelling you to touch the other detective. The need for him clawing under your skin like a drug.

His hands slide down to grab your waist, dragging you not his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth. The moans continue on the tv and the word ‘Fuck’ continues flashing in his mind. “Fuck.” He rasps out. “I- I can’t stop. Tell me to stop.” He managed to choke out despite grabbing your hips to drag you down on top of him.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out, rolling your hips down shamelessly to grind against his hard cock. You don’t know why you need him inside you, but you desperately do. “Touch me, Tim.” You beg breathlessly. “Please baby.”

He can’t deny you. He helps you grind down on his cock, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits through your blouse. “I - shit - I need to - to be inside of you.” He tells you, reaching down to work on unbuttoning your pants and he pushes his hand inside to find you wet and ready for him.

"Fuck." You whimper at the first touch of his thick fingers against your clit. "Yes, need- fuck, I need your cock." You groan out, reaching down around his own hand in your pants to squeeze his cock through his. "Now Tim." You insist.

Tim groans when you squeeze him and he slides his fingers between your folds, groaning at how wet you are. “Fuck. I- stand up. Take your pants off.” He demands, working on his belt buckle and his cock is aching, he’s in pain. The word ‘Fuck’ keeps flashing on the screen as the moans continue to pour out of the tv speakers.

Scrambling to your feet, you nearly fall over in your haste to strip down. Pushing down your pants and kicking them off with your panties, your knees shake in need and you are panting like you've just finished a marathon. "Oh fuck." you turn back around and find Tim with his cock in his hand, pumping it furiously. "Oh shit, let me- I need-" You dive back onto his lap, eager to sink down on his thick, uncut cock.

He grabs your ass as you reach between you to grip his cock and he groans when you start to sink down onto him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” starts to echo on the tv but Tim isn’t paying attention, to obsessed with the way you are sinking onto his cock. You’re so wet and tight and he loses his ability to breathe as you settle into his cock.

The slightly intense, grim detective looks amazing as he moans for you. Feeling his cock scrub against your walls in the best way as he breaks you open. Making your mouth drop open and a loud moan of his name, your arms wrapped around his neck to keep you upright.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt.” He hisses in delight, groaning your name as you start to rock on top of him and his hands slide up to work on the buttons of your shirt, wanting to feel every inch of you. The buttons become tiresome so he just rips your blouse, sending buttons flying across the room and he groans when he finally gets access to your tits, pulling them out of your bra so he can duck down and take a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out when his mouth attacks your breasts. Never imagining he would be such a dominant lover. Tearing your shirt off has you clenching down around him and squeezing him tight in your walls. “More.” You beg, tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on it, pressing him into your breast. “More, baby, fuck.”

He bites down, sucking on your tits, alternating as he groans into your flesh and you whimper, making his cock twitch inside of you. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck’ continues on the screen, the moans stopping from the couple as yours replace them, the words on the screen flashing constantly and Tim hisses as he grabs your ass, lifting you up to place you on the sofa so he can fuck into you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine when his cock slips out of you but the second he is driving back into you, your scream rings out. Scratching your nails down his shirt, you wish he was undressed. At least so you could feel his skin under your fingers.

He grunts, leaning down to kiss along your neck. “Imagined this so many fucking times.” He admits shamelessly, “imagined fucking you on my desk. In my bed. In here. In the captain's office. Imagined you a fuck ton. Shit. So tight. Knew you would be.” He rambles, his thrusts deep and slightly frantic as the mantra continues around you.

You moan, unable to believe that he would imagine fucking you. You have never thought he noticed you beyond working together. “Imagined how good you’d feel. How thick you would be.” You confess as he punches deep inside you. “Better that I could have imagined.”

Tim groans, spurred on by your words and the repeated mantra urging him on and he hisses your name as he pushes deep. “Wanna - wanna feel you cum.” He says, reaching down to rub your clit.

You shudder, clenching down around him and digging your nails into his shoulder as you lunge up to bite his chin. “Yes, fuck, fuck me harder.” You beg, driven by this invisible force.

He clenches his jaw, pushing deeper, harder, faster. Sweat beads on his forehead as he kneels on the sofa, lifting your thigh over his hip to get even deeper inside of you, his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You choke out, feeling that familiar polling in the pit of your stomach. Except it’s better than using your toy at home. The nerves screaming in pleasure and you kiss every inch of skin you can reach.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” repeats over and over and Tim hisses as he rocks into you, trying to get you to cum. It’s like he needs you to cum like he needs to breathe. “That’s it. Shit. Gettin’ so wet on my cock. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He begs, his cock twitching as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

The harsh, jarring thrusts are everything you need and more. Pushing you closer every time his hips snap forward and if there was ever a question of Tim Rockford’s ability in bed, this answered it. “Gonna baby.” You squeal, not making any sense, but it doesn’t matter. Your orgasm crashes through you and all you can do is cry out wordlessly.

“Yesss. That’s it. Good girl.” Tim hisses as you clamp down around him and he swears he could fuck you all night long just to hear you cry out his name like that. He rocks you through it, his jaw clenching and he releases a deep groan as he buries his cock deep and cums inside of you, painting your walls.

You whine, loving the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. Panting as you try to catch your breath when he drops his head on your shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” He echoes, his cock still hard inside of you. The mantra is still playing on the tv and it’s wiggled into Tim’s head, making him ache for more. “I need - wanna fuck you from behind.”

You are surprised that he can keep going, but you can’t deny that your body still aches for more. “Yessss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and biting your lip. “Fuck me again. Never stop fucking me.”

Tim groans, pulling out of you and his dark eyes focus on the cum dripping out of you and he watches you shift onto your knees. His fingers wrap around his cock as you position yourself until he’s notching himself at your entrance and pushes into you with a groan.

“Fuck!” You cry out, enjoying the sharp ping of pain when he pushes deep and his cock hits the back of your cervix from this angle. “Jesus how are you single with a dick like that?” You moan.

“The job.” He chuckles, grabbing your hips and he starts to push deep, setting another harsh pace. “Divorced. Father of one. Not exactly - exactly Prince Charming.” He says breathlessly as his cock hits hard against your cervix.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, dropping your head down onto the back of the sofa and rocking your hips back. “Don’t- fuck, don’t stop.” You beg him, barely getting the words out as he slams into you over and over again.

“I can’t.” He says truthfully and he slams into you, over and over. Desperate to hear and feel you cum for him again. “Can’t fucking stop. You’re - shit - this pussy is - fuck. Never wanna pull out.”

Moaning softly, all you can do is clench around him while you take his cock over and over again. Feeling like he's in your guts every time he snaps his hips forward and you want him even deeper. "Don't." you pant over your shoulder. "Just fuck me forever."

Tim nods, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he pushes into you over and over again. “I will, baby. Oh I fucking will.” He promises and groans when you clench around him. The tv keeps flashing and he hears ‘Fuck’ in the back of his mind over and over. “Jesus Christ. Never wanna stop.”

Your eyes slip closed. 'Fuck' flashing in your mind over and over again. Like you are possessed by this need to fuck. You moan his name and push your hips back. Needing more. Needing him deeper inside you. It doesn't matter that you've always dreamed of having sex with him, you need more of it. You whine, biting your lip so hard that you almost feel your teeth break the skin. Humming in agreement as you push back more forcefully. Letting his hips slam against your ass hard enough to rock you forward and press your chest against the back of the sofa.

“Good girl. That’s it. Yes. Yes.” Tim grunts, loving how you are pushing back against him. “Keep going. Keep - fuck - need you to cum again.” He pleads, leaning over your body to kiss along your neck, his hand cupping your tit to squeeze and pinch the nipple.

Gasping at the pain, you reach down. Frantically rubbing your clit as he hammers into you from behind. Striking that perfect spot deep inside you. "Gonna cum!" you squeal seconds before you clench down around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum. Cum. Shit - need you to-” He chokes when you clamp down on his cock and he groans when you soak him, his cock nearly trapped inside of you but he manages to move to work you through it and he’s so close. “Shit. Baby. I- I’m gonna - I gotta - fuuuuuuckkkk.” He growls as he cums for the second time, painting your walls.

Whimpering Tim's name, you relax into the sofa, feeling him coating the inside of your cunt in his seed. Closing your eyes and sighing at the feeling, a small smile on your face. "So good. Feels so good." You moan quietly.

Tim exhales shakily, turning his head to see the screen has gone gray and he pants, leaning in to kiss your neck before he slowly pulls out of you, his cock finally going soft. “Shit.” He hisses and shifts to sit down on the sofa.

You turn slightly, grabbing your ruined shirt to sit down so you don’t leak cum all over the sofa. Other officers use it too. “God.” You pant, flopping back and trying to catch your breath. “That was- holy shit.”

Tim’s chest heaves, the mantra finally leaving his mind and he leans against the sofa after tucking himself away. “I guess…I guess it’s not, uh, it’s not a snuff tape.” He chuckles breathlessly.

"No." You frown slightly, wondering why it was said to be a snuff film when you think you saw both people in the film, alive and exhausted. "I- it was so strange. I kept seeing the word 'Fuck' flash on the screen between the scenes. Did you?"

“Yeah. It’s like - it’s like it burned into my retinas and all I could think of was fucking you and Jesus…I - did you want me to - or have I just-?” He can’t even sound out his thoughts, too horrified at the thought of it being what it could be.

"No!" Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. "I wanted you to." You promise, rushing to reassure him that it was something you had been very enthusiastic to experience. "I needed you too. It was like I had to have you or I was going to go crazy." You admit. "I thought I was pretty good at hiding my feelings."

The detective’s head swivels over to look at you. “You mean you- this wasn’t just the crazy hypnosis snuff video? You - Christ above, sweetheart. You have any fucking idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you…about being inside you…about loving you.” He adds softer than his prior exclamation.

You bite your lip, trying and failing not to grin at his confession. It seems like what could have been something troubling has turned out pretty fucking good. "So, I guess it was a good thing that you watched this with me rather than Robertson." You joke softly.

Tim’s eyes go wide as he turns to look at you, “thank the fucking Lord.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “That video…I don’t know what the fuck that was but we, uh, we gotta report it because this - it might not be so consensual for the next ones that get it and it could be dangerous.” He says, trying to focus on his job again instead of the way your lips look utterly kissable again.

"Who gave you this tape again?" You ask with a frown. "Why would they tell you it's a snuff film when it's.....obviously not?" It is concerning that it was given to a detective, and you wonder if it was meant to cause havoc in the department. Or the crime lab. "Normally this would be examined by the crime lab......not us."

“Yeah. The, uh, you know Greg? He gave it to me. Told me the crime lab didn’t have a working VHS so I’d have to watch it if I wanted to get the evidence from it.” He says and frowns, “he - he kinda knew I had a thing for you. Might’ve mentioned it when he noticed how pissed I’d get when the others talked about you behind your back.”

"Others talk about me?" You frown slightly, although you know shit talking is a part of being a cop. Especially a female detective in a male dominated field. "And Greg told you to watch this...with me?"

“They - they talk about your body. Your ass…what they wanna do to you. I- I try to shut them down. Say it’s disrespectful and yeah…he told me to get the captain to have you assigned to the case and I thought it was just to have your brains on the case…not - not this.” He gestures to the tv.

"Do you think Greg knew what was on the tape?" You ask quietly. reaching out and taking his hand and squeezing it gently for his kindness. For sticking up for you.

Tim looks down at your hands and shakes his head, “I don’t know babe. I- shit. I’m so sorry I put you in this situation. We gotta try and trace this tape back. We can’t let this shit get out.” He says, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I know." You nod as you look over at where the tv is still displaying a gray screen. "Maybe we need to take the video out of the station." You hum. "You know how nosy all these assholes are."

Tim nods, “I can take it home. Hide it.” He says, squeezing your hand again. “And I- I wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you sometime.” He adds, staring at the gray screen as he anxiously awaits your answer.

"I don't think we are going to get much work done tonight." You admit. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving." You shrug. "I would say let's go to that dinner around the corner, but you ripped my shirt, so how about I make you dinner at my place?"

Tim nods, “how about I meet you at your place and I can pick up some Chinese food. Save you cooking.” He adds, “and then maybe we can talk about what happened when we are clear headed.”

"That sounds good." You agree, standing up and picking up your panties and pants after you tuck your boobs back into your bra. You wonder if he will blow you off, or if he wants to actually meet you at your place.

He knows your order from late nights in the station with everyone. He stands up, adjusting his shirt and he grabs his tie, shoving it into his pocket. “Sorry about your shirt. You, uh, want to use my jacket?” He offers, knowing you’ll want your decency when you leave.

"I've got an extra shirt in my desk drawer." You tell him with a grin. "For those all nighters." You know he understands that. Most detectives keep a complete change of clothes in a drawer just in case. "But help me hunt down the buttons?"

Tim nods, kneeling down and he blushes when he sees how far the buttons went. “I was - Jesus. That video made me feral.” He admits and picks up a few buttons. He hands them to you and when you stand there, he gently reaches up to cup your cheek, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to kiss you softly.

You've kissed, but it had been frantic and needy. This is so much more gentle. A real kiss that is not because of that video. "I- thank you." You murmur quietly.

“You deserved better than that for our first time.” He murmurs as he pulls back, “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises as he looks at you. “Lemme grab your shirt from your desk just in case.”

“I don’t know.” You admit as you pull your pants back on. “I think multiple orgasms and being fucked within an inch of my life was a great first time.” You laugh. “Although I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to suck your cock.”

Tim smirks, feeling confident now that you want him again and enjoyed earlier. “Don’t you worry baby. Maybe later…we can explore each other a little more.” He smirks and you giggle. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, walking over to the TV to eject the tape.

“That’s an amazingly suggestive tape.” You hum as you watch him analyze the tape like it might tell him its secrets. “Let’s go, Rockford.” You order with a smirk. “I’m starving and the captain authorized overtime, but I’d rather have our next viewing of the tape be in my bed.”

Tim’s eyes widen, “you wanna - I’d rather have you without watching the tape.” He tells you and you smirk, nodding, “that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He grins and follows you into the bullpen so you can collect your things. “You wanna come in my car or I can follow you?”

You smirk and shrug. "I might as well take my car." You tell him, "since I think that we won't be back in the office until next week." You wink at him. "Might cause some rumors if I leave it here."

Tim nods, willing to follow your lead and he grabs his things as you put the shirt on. “Come on, babe.” He says once you’re ready and he guides you out of the station to your car, glancing around to check out the surroundings like he always does.

You smile at the way that his hand rests on your hip. Protective and possessive. Waiting until you unlock the door to hold it open for you. "I'll meet you at my place?" You ask, glancing over at him. "You remember how to get there?"

He knows where you live, having dropped you off during late night stakeouts and ops. He waits until you’re in your car with the door locked before he makes his way over to his vehicle, quick to leave the parking lot and follow you to your house.

It's a bit nerve wracking, knowing Tim is following you. Excited in a way that you don't understand, you keep watching his car in your rearview mirror.

He grips the steering wheel, a little nervous actually to be going to your place if you are regretting sleeping with him. He calls up the Chinese restaurant to place your orders and he makes his way there. After picking up the food, he makes his way to your place and rings the doorbell with the food in hand.

In the spare time you had while Tim got the food, you had jumped into a quick shower. Bare feet and comfortable clothes are what greets him when he knocks on the door and you open it with a smile. "Hi." You greet him, waving him in. "Do you want a beer? Something stronger?"

Tim chuckles, “tempted to have something stronger but a beer will do. I don’t wanna be on anything around you. Especially after that fucking tape.” The tape is currently hidden in his glove box. “I wanna be sober around you.”

You nod in agreement and lean in to press your lips to his. "A beer it is." You hum, closing the door behind him and leading him into the kitchen. "I'll get the beers and some plates."

Tim checks your door is locked before he follows you into the kitchen, setting the bag of food down on your counter. “I haven’t been in here since you hosted that party after Samson closed that cold case.”

“Yeah, that’s been awhile.” You open the fridge and grab two beers to open before you turn back to him. “That was right after you and your wife divorced.” You wince slightly. “I’m sorry about that. I know it was rough. I hated that you were under a lot of stress during that time.”

Tom shakes his head as he takes the beer from your hand. “It was over a long time ago. We - we stayed together for our son and - shit. She really gave me hell.” He confesses, “anyway. I, uh, I guess I never really asked about your dating life. Never wanted to know if you had a boyfriend that I could be jealous of.

“No dating life, not when I wanted someone at work.” You confess.

Tim's eyes widen as he absorbs your words before he chuckles, "you mean you were lusting after Jackson?" He teases, knowing the nearly retired old man is not the one you wanted. "I, uh, seriously though...I didn't know. I was a little busy eying you up without being a creepy asshole." He admits, licking his lips.

“You shouldn’t have worried about being creepy.” You smile softly. Despite the fact that you had been junior to him. It’s one of the reasons you respect him, he wouldn’t abuse his authority. Now both of you are equals, so there is no worry about improprieties. “Although now you can eye me up however you want.”

"Well that's good to know." His eyes slowly trail along your body, enjoying the fact that he can unashamedly admire you. "You're so fucking pretty, baby." He says after a moment, his fingers flexing around the beer bottle.

“Do you want to eat and talk, talk or just eat?” You ask, not sure what he wants to do. Despite the fucking that had happened at the station, you still want to touch him, but you know you can’t just act like a horny teenager.

"Let's talk and eat. You need to eat after how I - you know." He clears his throat and blushes a little. "I kinda - I kinda wanna touch you again but only if you want." He adds, suddenly nervous.

“I want to touch you too.” It’s endearing that he had fucked you so hard earlier and now he’s blushing. “If you want, of course.” You smirk slightly as you turn back to the cabinets to get the plates and silverware.

Tim’s eyes drop down to your ass as you get the plates. “Of course I want to.” He scoffs like you asked him a ridiculous question. “Baby, let’s sit down and eat. You need food after I - well, I’m starving.” He admits, taking out the containers after opening the bag.

You hum, dipping out some of the food onto plates and take them over to the small table while Tim carries the beers. “We do need to refill the tanks, so to speak.” You laugh. “I have to admit, I was shocked when you kept fucking me.”

“So was I!” Tim exclaims with wide eyes. “I ain’t eighteen anymore and I- shit - that kind of stamina…not my normal gig I gotta be honest. Usually I cum once and that’s it. I need a nap and a snack before I’m ready to go again.”

“A nap and a snack, huh?” You giggle at that, finding him too cute and you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m normally a ‘once and I’m good’ kind of girl too. But tonight?” You point to his sweet and sour chicken. “Eat your snack baby.”

He grins, liking the way you think and he must admit he’s eager to have you again. He grabs a plate to start serving up his food and he grabs his beer and follows you into the living room after you’ve grabbed your own plate. “You wanna watch something on RV?” You ask and Tim bites his lip, “maybe not the best considering the last thing we watched.”

You snort and nod, biting your lip as the two of you sit down. “So, where do you see this going?” You ask quietly. “Something serious? Causal? I wouldn’t blame you after the divorce.”

Tim sets his plate down on your coffee table, "honestly? I kinda want to date you. I want to take you out for dinner and see where this goes." He admits, "unless you want casual but...I'm not really a casual kind of guy."

“I don’t really like casual either.” You admit, turning towards him after setting your own plate down. “I would have put up with it for you.”

He's taken back at your confession and he smiles, "guess we both suck at casual. I was thinking about asking you out, you know? I just didn't want to be that creepy older guy that asks you on a date and makes it awkward at work when you said no."

“I would have said yes.” You promise, leaning in and touching his hand. “Tonight just….sped up the timeline.” You joke. “And will give us one hell of a first date story.”

Snorting, he nods as he takes a bite of orange chicken as he squeezes your hand with his free one. “Yeah. Maybe we can edit it a little bit.” He teases, “and hopefully you include the detail of me having a big cock.” He jokes, winking at you.

You giggle and your cunt clenches. “Don’t worry. That fact will be repeated with the high praise on how well you use that cock.” You promise. “Don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so well.”

Tim can’t help but grin with pride at your statement and he swears he will make you feel that way if you let him touch you again. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”

Both of you finish your meal, chatting about different things, different cases you had been working on. Setting your plate down with a content sigh, you drain the last drops of your beer and look over at Tim. “So, do you want to go back to my bedroom? We could take a nap, or….”

He watches you for a moment, “bedroom…I wanna touch you in a bed. I wanna have my mind be my own when I touch you next.” He says, reaching for your hand to pull you closer so he can lean in and press his lips to yours.

You can agree with that. As much as you needed him back at the station, you want to be in control. This time, your arms go around his neck because you want to keep the kiss going, slowly feeling his mouth out as it starts to deepen.

His tongue slides against yours and he groans into your mouth, loving how you feel as your fingers tangle in his hair. “Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth when you’re a little rougher but he loves it.

You love how his embrace is solid. The steady weight of him beside you makes you shift to straddle him. Settling back into his lap and pressing close, there’s not the urgency of before, but you are learning each other

His hands trail along your body, enjoying how you feel pressed against him, and the kisses are slow, passionate and he loves it. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and he can’t resist slapping your cheeks before he grabs them again.

“Tim!” You gasp into his mouth and laugh, enjoying the smug smirk on his handsome face. Reaching up, you tangle your fingers back into his hair as you continue to make out. You know how he feels inside, but this is almost more intimate.

He kisses along your jaw, down your neck and bites gently over your pulse. “You’re so Goddamn beautiful. Inside and out. Why you want me, I’ll never know.” He confesses, knowing he’s fucked up but he’s gonna take this opportunity to be with you by the fucking horns and ride it as long as you want him.

“Because you are a good man.” You’ve seen plenty of men who pretend to be good but they are rotten at their core. Tim Rockford is honest, noble. “I want to take you to bed,” you confess softly. “Can you go again, or should we just cuddle?”

Tim nods, "I can go again." He is surprisingly half hard and he rocks up to grind against you, showing you he can be ready. "Let's go to your bedroom." He says, smacking your ass again and you stand up. He stands up after you and takes your outstretched hand as you guide him to your room.

In your bedroom, that’s where your personality shines. The bright, beautiful colors of your bedding and the natural light. The bookshelves are loaded down with novels and the slightly messy open closet door. “Sorry.” You move to close the door. “Didn’t think I would have company today when I left.”

Tim snorts, "this is nothing. You should see my place. It's chaos. My boy leaves his fucking legos on the floor and guess who steps on them in the middle of the night?" Tim asks you, eyebrows raised.

You giggle, imagining him cursing and stumbling over the blocks in the dark. “Ouch.” You wince sympathetically. “I know that hurts.”

"It does." He tells you with wide eyes, glancing around your room before he exhales softly and steps closer to you. He reaches up to cup your cheek, "I really do think you're beautiful." He murmurs, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Can I eat you out?" He asks, curious if you'll be happy for him to do that.

It’s your turn to be surprised by the request. “I- yes.” You sputter. “It’s- are you sure? You want to do that? I mean, I’m not complaining, but we- you came inside me.”

Tim snorts, “I put it there. I’m sure I can clean up my mess.” He says and smirks at you, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get naked. I wanna see all of you. Wanna taste every inch of you. Take my time.”

“It’ll be nice seeing you this time.” You admit with a grin, letting him pull your shirt over your head and reaching for the buttons of his collared shirt. “Never had a boyfriend who would go down on me after sex.” You admit with a giggle.

Tim lets you push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s a little self conscious. He’s not toned. He’s strong but he’s not abs and no body fat. He likes his food and he doesn’t tend to have a lot of time to exercise. He flusters slightly when you run your fingers down his chest.

“Sexy,” you coo softly, wanting to touch and kiss every inch of him. You knew that you were attracted to Tim, but your cunt is dripping at the sight of his chest and he hasn’t even removed his pants yet. “So fucking sexy.”

“You are.” He hums with a smirk and he reaches for your bra, unclasping it to pull it down your arms before he flings it across the room. “Baby. Fuck. You’re so sexy.” He murmurs and reaches up to cup your tits, squeezing them. “Great tits.”

You laugh, amused at the awe-filled look on his face as he palms your tits. As if he can't believe that he is touching them. "You've got a great cock." You hum, reaching down and cupping him. "Feels good. I want to see how it feels in my mouth instead of my pussy."

Tim groans at your filthy words. "Shit baby. You - you are fucking incredible." He compliments you as he gropes your tits. "Wanna - wanna make you cum. How do you wanna cum?" He asks, curious and eager.

You whine, eyes closing at the feeling of his hands on your body and the promise in his words. Anything you want is yours it seems. “I want you to eat me out.” You admit breathlessly. If his head game is good, this man is the complete package.

"Fuck. Take your pants off." He demands, his cock aching in his pants and he decides to push them down after unbuckling his belt. His boxers soon follow after he kicks off his shoes while you strip down to nothing. "Shit. So fucking gorgeous. Lay down." He demands again, the edge in his voice is raspy but commanding.

You shiver, laying down and wondering why it’s so sexy that he is taking control. You watch him, greedy as your eyes roam over his nude body. “Come here.” You beg, wanting him to touch you.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands trailing along your thighs until he's pushing your legs open so he can take in the sight of your cunt. "Fuck, I-" He can't say another word as he surges forward to bury his face in your cum slick folds.

Crying out, your hands tangle in his hair. Closing your eyes, you enjoy how eagerly his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s magical, breath stealing as he devours you. Making you so glad that you had invited him home.

He groans into your flesh, loving how you taste, and he hisses when you tug on his hair in a way that makes his cock twitch against your sheets. His fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps you spread open so he can devour you.

Tim isn’t proper when he is eating you out. He’s messy, ravenous. The sexy little grunts and sighs as he takes you apart with every flick of his tongue has you moaning his name, rolling your hips down to meet his eager tongue.

"Fuck. You taste-" He groans as he pulls back for a second before he surges forward to bury his face in your folds again. He loves the tangy taste of your arousal and the salt of his cum. He doesn't give a shit about tasting his own essence on your flesh and he laps at your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, baby.” You moan, rolling your hips again and whimpering his name once more when he tightens his grip on you.

He shifts, letting go of your flesh so he can push two thick digits inside of you. Calloused from holding a pen all the damn time and he curls them before he resumes sucking on your clit like a candy.

“Shit.” You hiss, shuddering and your breath catching at the curl of his fingers deep inside of you. Pressing perfectly against that magical place that makes you squeal out his name when he presses again.

He groans your name, “that’s it baby. That’s it.” He mumbles into your cunt when your walls flutter around his fingers, pressing against that spot over and over again. “Cum for me.” He demands before he resumes sucking your clit.

It doesn’t take you long. Only a few more minutes before he is pulling you apart. Your nerves fraying and your entire body bursting with pleasure when you start to come apart. Crying out his name and flooding his mouth with your cum.

Tim eagerly laps up every drop. He pumps his fingers into you, loving how you moan and writhe under his mouth. He caresses your thigh as he works you through it until he feels you relax, practically melt into your mattress.

You whimper, letting go of his hair and trying to drag him up to you for a kiss. Desperate to give him the same kind of pleasure that he had just given you.

His lips meet yours and he slowly withdraws his fingers, enjoying the way you slide your tongue against his and his wet digits grip your thigh. “Wanna be inside of you again.” He murmurs between kisses he presses to your jaw, needing to hear you say you want him again.

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You ask breathlessly. You’ve imagined it so many times but if he would rather fuck you, you are all for it. “I will always want you inside me.”

Tim bites his lip as you lay under him. “I kinda want you to suck my cock. Then I want to fuck you.” He decides and you giggle, pushing on his chest. He obediently shifts to lay down, his hard cock resting on his stomach and you move onto your knees.

“Fuck.” You whimper, wrapping your fingers around his cock and giving him a slow squeeze. “Imagined myself on my knees for you so many times.” You admit. “Even wondered if I could fit under your desk.” That makes you giggle again, imagine having his cock down your throat while he types up a report. “Now I get to taste you.” Lowering your head, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, tongue pressing against the bead of pre-cum.

“Oh fuck.” Tim hisses when you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock. “Baby. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, unable to close his eyes, wanting to see every second of this and burn it into his memory.

You preen under his praise, taking him deeper and wanting to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. Holding onto his hip while you take him down to the back of your throat and swallowing around him.

“Jesus.” Tim hisses as you swallow around him, your jaw almost unhinged as you take him deeper and your eyes are watering. “Fuck, sweetheart. Look so good.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek, enjoying the feel of his cock pressing against your cheek.

You hum, letting it vibrate through him with a grin. Enjoying the feeling of his hand on your cheek while you concentrate on not choking. You want to take him deeper, to wrap your lips around the base and you slide your fingers out from around the base to hold onto his hips.

“Oh oh oh shittt.” He hisses before he pants, his cock twitching down your throat as your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Baby. Baby. Shit. You gotta - I can’t - it’s too much.” He admits and grabs the back of your neck, trying to pull you off of his length.

You lift off of him with a gasp of air. “You don’t want to-“ you bite your lip but Tim shakes his head. “Want to be inside you.” He reminds you, rolling your body under his again and your legs fall open to brace on either side of his hips.

He’s slower this time. Hovering over you, he reaches down to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance. He pushes into you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he braces his hand on the side of your head.

This time, he slides into you an inch at a time. Slow enough that you swear you feel his heartbeat fluttering against your pussy walls. Letting you moan softly and wrap your legs around his back, heels pressed into his tiny ass as you enjoy being split open by him again.

He exhales shakily once he’s fully inside of you. Groaning your name as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, cock twitching when you clench around him. “Gonna take our time. Want you to cum again for me.”

As frantic as the time in the station was, this is equally as slow. More like love making than anything else as Tim slowly pushes and drags his cock in and out of your walls. It's a good thing, since you are a little sore from earlier, but you wouldn't have him stop for anything in the world as you two kiss.

His lips press against yours over and over again, his weight shifting onto his forearms so he can press his body against yours. Your heels dig into his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper with every thrust into you and he swears he could stay like this forever.

You moan his name, holding him tight as you move with him. Wanting to be as close as you can get without crawling up inside his skin. “Fuck.” You whimper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he grinds down into you. It’s intense and totally consuming in the best possible way as he builds you back up.

"So fucking beautiful. So fucking smart. Too good for me. Too fucking good for me." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck while he rocks into you, his hand reaching back to lift your thigh higher so he can grind even deeper into you.

“Why?” You gasp out, unable to comprehend why he would think you’re too good for him. “Handsome, smart, sexy, capable.” You groan, clenching around him. “You’re a fucking catch.”

Tim chuckles against your neck. “I fucking - I got more baggage than a Goddamn airport, baby girl. I gotta - I have an ex wife and a son. It’s not - most women don’t wanna get involved in the drama.” He explains breathlessly as he rocks into you.

“No drama.” You moan, tightening your legs around him. “Mileage.” You tease playfully. Despite having an ex-wife, you know that he’s a good man, not a perfect one - but a good man. His son, well, he would be part of the deal and you couldn’t imagine thinking otherwise.

“Mileage.” He repeats with a chuckle. “Like an old corvette.” He jokes and slides his hands under you, getting even closer to you. His hips rock against yours a little faster, wanting to feel you cum around him.

“Classics are still fucking sexy.” You whimper when he hits deep inside you, striking the perfect angle. “There, fuck, right there Tim.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He frowns, concentrating on that spot to make you cum. He pushes into you a little faster, not changing the angle of his hips and he watches your brow furrow and your mouth fall open. “Shit baby. Look so good.” He murmurs, “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp, feeling the tension nearly snap the next time his hips rocket forward. Almost cumming right then. You just need one more thrust. Your body lurches when he pulls back, lifting up to meet him, and you squeal his name when he thrusts back into you, making stars erupt behind your eyes.

“Shit.” Tim hisses when you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. So tight.” He pants, loving how wet you feel around him as your nails dig into his back. He works you through it, slow and deep despite the vice grip on his cock, and he kisses slowly along your neck.

“So good.” You whimper, panting for breath as you come down from your high. “Want you to cum.” You murmur softly. “Fill me up again.”

Tim clenches his jaw, his pace picking up a little more as you tell him to cum. He pants, rocking into you harder and faster, practically folding your body in half as he seeks his own high until he chokes, his body coming to a halt as his cock twitches. His hot cum paints your walls and he hisses your name as he rides his orgasm.

He’s fucking gorgeous when he cums. His eyes are closed, jaw slack with pleasure as he pumps you full of cum. Groaning and twitching deep inside of you, making you moan again. “Fuck baby.” You coo, caressing his neck and cheek. “Amazing.”

He exhales heavily as he relaxes. His lips meet yours as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is slow, his tongue caressing yours, and he enjoys being inside of you.

You let the kiss linger, not in any rush to pull away and you don’t drop your legs from around him until your breathing has calmed down.

Tim nudges his nose against yours, shifting onto his side with you while he's still inside of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. "So I should definitely take you on an actual date." He says, his dark eyes on you.

“Maybe.” You smile as you answer him, leaning up for another kiss. “Maybe a romantic crime scene. We can flirt over evidence markers.”

Tim chuckles, “we do that anyway. But I mean, an actual dinner. Wanna take you out. Wine and dine you. What do the kids say nowadays?” He teases, nudging his nose against yours. “Well, they say Netflix and Chill.” Tim snorts, “pretty sure we already did that. Snuff Tape and Fuck.” He jokes before his face gets serious, “dinner. Wanna treat you right.”

“That sounds good to me, detective.” You murmur with a smile. While you don’t know why the film came to be in your possession or who had made it, you’re sure that you’ll figure it out. After all, Tim Rockford is a legend on the police force, solving cases and in this case, putting this one to bed.

#pedro pascal #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford smut #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford imagine #merge mansion

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musings-of-a-rose · 5 months

Text

All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)? Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery.

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case.

Sexy would not begin to describe this man.

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms.

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes.

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it.

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us.

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding.

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks.

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man.

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee.

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order.

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks.

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus.

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there.

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?”

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look.

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.”

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away.

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it.

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement.

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer.

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity.

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin.

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy.

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later.

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm.

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name.

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly.

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @Withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

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ayashitetsuko · 7 months

Text

An open letter to David Jenkins

Some fans believe that we should not vent our anger and frustration to show creators. I don’t believe that. The thing about being a professional is that receiving criticism is part of your job—especially if you have done a terrible job.

OFMD went from groundbreaking to disappointing overnight.

There was a momentum to create a queer media that is smart, fun, sexy, and most importantly, respectful. In the way they are writing these queer characters. Especially older and disabled queer characters, a reflection of a generation of marginalised communities that have gone through so much. To give audience a glimpse of hope in their escapism.

But sir, you choose to Remus Lupin him instead.

This is not just about killing off a character. Hell, I might be willing to accept it. After all, I have read and even written fics with MCD in it—involving my favourite character.

But I want you to know that this is a special case. It is not just another popular character being killed off to drive plots.

I have issue with how you kill off a queer character that represents many marginalised communities in his arc.

Izzy is an abuse survivor who becomes disabled as a result of it. Izzy is a queer elder. Izzy is suicidal but manages to overcome it with the healing power of love and community.

Having him killed off just like that is a huge slap for fans who have gone through what he has gone through. Turns out, even in fiction, in our escapism, there is no joy. Only despair.

Also. Father figure? Where does that come from? Ed has never been shown to have any level of respect for Izzy. So let me ask you again. Where does “father figure” come from?

You have an opportunity to make a difference with OFMD; to be remembered in history for the right reasons. Yet somehow you choose not too. You choose to turn this into cheap, sensationalist entertainment where death and torture are thrown around for shock value.

It is like you have no idea how much power you have by being a professional storyteller.

Let me break it down to you. For you as a writer, perhaps killing off Izzy is nothing but an artistic choice. A plot point to figure out. But for audiences in marginalised groups, stories are mirrors. They see themselves in stories. That is how stories give them hope. This is why OFMD has never been “just a pirate story”. Perhaps this is hard to understand if you have never been part of an underrepresented community in the mainstream media, but this is how many are feeling about your work now. Your legacy.

OFMD has truly become an overnight failure. I don’t know how this happened. I would like to blame budget cuts, but your Vanity Fair interview makes me realise this is all deliberate choice.

So, what is next for us Canyonites?

If anything, this convinced me that queer and disabled people should write. And continue to write.

We can no longer trust major media to speak for us. We definitely can never trust David Jenkins again. Any form of progressiveness that he showed earlier was just coincidence, apparently. Even worse, it was fake.

As my friend Sam beautifully puts it, Izzy belongs to us now. We reclaim that character and give him all the happy endings he deserves in our fic, our art. We transform the works. We write about queer, disabled, suicidal characters the way the deserve to be written. If being a published writer is the path you choose, make sure you make wiser decisions than David Jenkins.

Thank you, sir. It was good while it lasts.

But this is a terrible job that you’re doing.

#izzy hands #ofmd s2 spoilers

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 4 months

Note

Hiiii are you taking requests? If so then how about a Tommy fic where he’s like super protective of the reader idk I’m thinking of that scene in Pam and Tommy where the construction worker walks in on Pam in the kitchen.

Stay Away From My Wife » Tommy Lee

Pairings: Husband!Tommy Lee x Wife!Reader

Summary: Someone gets a little too close to Tommy’s wife.

Warnings: Fluff, language, overprotective Tommy, unwanted staring, kissing, pet names (babe, baby)

A/N: My apologies if I get anything wrong. I haven’t watched Pam & Tommy in a while and I only seen part of the episode you’re talking about so this is based off of what I remember of it. I also put my own twist on it.

Thank you for requesting!🩵 @marvelobsessed134

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.

You hummed to yourself as you made coffee. You leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the coffee pour into the coffee pot. You went to the pantry to get stuff out to make pancakes. You were pouring pancake mix in a bowl while humming lyrics to your favorite song and swaying your hips side to side. You felt an unfamiliar presence behind you. You turned around to see one of the construction workers standing a couple feet away from you.

“Umm, what are you doing in here?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

The construction worker didn’t say anything. He just stared at you. That’s when you realized you were only wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and a pair of panties underneath it. You shrieked and pulled it down to cover your ass.

“Tommy!” You yelled.

Tommy came running into the kitchen within 5 seconds.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Tommy asks.

“This weirdo thought he could get a free peak of me in my panties!” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Tommy felt his blood boiling as he looked at the construction worker. He gently pushed you behind his body, shielding you from him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Tommy asks, raising his voice at the guy.

“I uhh…” The guy stuttered with wide eyes, not knowing what to see.

“You uhh what?” Tommy mocked him. “You thought you could see my wife in her panties and get away with it?” He says.

“I’m sorry, sir!” The guy apologizes. “I promise it won’t happen again!” He says.

“You’re damn right it won’t happen again cause you’re fucking fired!” Tommy says.

“Wh-What?” He asks, blinking a couple times.

“You’re fired! Get your shit, get out of my house, and most importantly, stay the hell away from my wife!” Tommy pointed at the door. “If I ever catch you staring at my wife again, you’re going to regret it.” He says.

The guy gulped and nodded, quickly leaving the kitchen. Tommy sighed loudly, running his fingers through his hair. He looked down at you and wrapped his strong tattooed arms around you protectively, pulling you close to him.

“Are you ok, baby?” Tommy asks softly.

“I am now.” You say, laying your head against his chest and traced one of his many tattoos on his arms.

“Did he touch you or hurt you in anyway?” He asks. “Cause if he did, I’ll kick his ass.” He says.

“No. He just made me feel uncomfortable with his staring.” You say, looking up at him.

Tommy cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately.

“Is it ok if you hold me while we stand here?” You asked.

“I have a better idea.” Tommy says.

Before you could ask what his idea is, he picked you up and walked to the living room. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He sat down with you on his lap and rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I still want pancakes.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

Tommy chuckled and kissed the side of your head.

“I’ll make you some pancakes, baby.” Tommy says, gently moving you onto the couch next to him before standing up.

“I love you so much, Tommy.” You say, kissing him.

“I love you too, babe.” He says against your lips.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

-Bucky’s Doll

#tommy lee #tommy lee sebastian stan #motley crue #pam and tommy #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #tommy lee x female reader #tommy lee x wife!reader #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee x y/n #tommy lee x you #tommy lee fluff #tommy lee one shot #tommy lee imagine #wife!reader

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beskarandblasters · 6 months

Text

You done?

Brat Tamer!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Inspired by the gif below 🥵🫠 (I couldn’t find who is the gif creator is, so if that person is you or someone you know please let me know and I’ll happily give credit where it’s due🤍)

Summary: You’re being a brat and bitching at Din. He decides to punish you.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), brat taming, blindfolds, helmet comes off, spitting, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praising, pet names (pretty girl, cyar’ika), sir kink, no use of y/n

“You done?” Din asks, sitting and watching you pace back and forth in the storage area of the Crest. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice. He’s enjoying watching you bitch at him. You don’t even know what you’re bitching about anymore, probably something about what Din did or didn’t do. Something about tripping over his blaster he left on the floor and laughing when you stubbed your toe…

“Not even close.”

“Mhm,” he says, stifling a chuckle. He’s sitting with his thighs spread wide open in a full man-spread, leaning back against the wall of the Crest. He would be so attractive if he wasn’t so irritating right now.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, stopping dead in your tracks and folding your arms.

“Nothing,” he says. He’s definitely smirking under that helmet.

“No, tell me,” you press.

“Just waiting for you to shut up,” he chuckles.

“Make me,” you reply. It’s your turn to wear a sly grin now.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, rising from the crate he was sitting on and sauntering over to you.

He pushes you up against the wall, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. He brings his helmet beside your ear, talking to you in a low, gravelly tone.

“What happens when you act like a brat?”

“…I get punished.”

“That’s right, cyar’ika.”

You gulp and he chuckles, moving one of his hands on your inner thigh and feeling you shudder at his touch.

“Strip and wait for me in the bunk,” he commands.

He releases your hands and you do as you’re told, removing your clothes and sitting on the cot's edge. You hear him rifling through one of the shelves. You know exactly what he’s looking for; the blindfold.

Din doesn’t normally use the blindfold. He understands all too well having some sort of barrier on your head, depriving you of your senses. He only busts out the blindfold when you’re being a bad girl.

He returns with the silky black fabric in his hands, leaning against the doorframe in the bunk.

“Time for your punishment,” he says, walking towards you and crouching down in front of the cot to meet your eye level.

You let out a groan as he begins to wrap the blindfold around your head, prompting him to stop and ask, “Are you complaining?”

“No!” you say quickly.

“That’s what I thought.”

The blindfold is secured around your head. You can’t see a thing, relying on your other senses. Goosebumps prick your skin in anticipation of his touch. You hear his gloves hitting the floor and his hands pressing you down lightly onto the cot. His warm skin against you sets your nerves aflame, already shuddering in desire and need for him.

“Patience, cyar’ika,” he reminds you.

You hear the hiss of his modulator and kriff, he’s taking his helmet off. This is so unfair.

Another groan escapes your lips and all of a sudden his face is hovering over yours.

“What did I say?”

You don’t respond, only uttering a bratty wine.

“I think you need to be punished even more now,” he tuts, pulling back and sitting on the edge of the cot by your thighs.

“What?? No, I’ll be good. I swear!”

“Too late,” he teases.

He spreads your thighs apart, his face inches away from your cunt. His breath sends a shiver up your spine as he watches how wet you’re getting already.

“So wet. So ready for me,” he says, swiping two fingers up and down your entrance.

You whine again, aching for more of his touch, more stimulation.

“You don’t get to cum without my permission. Got it?”

“Fine,” you pout.

“Do better,” he commands.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you whine.

“Good girl,” he praises.

His words make you melt. He moistens his fingers with his mouth, sliding one inside you slowly. He takes his time curling his singular digit against your walls, feeling how wet you are for him; how bad you want him already. He pushes up against your g-spot, eliciting a moan from you.

“You want more, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Please, sir,” you whine.

“Beg.”

“Please, sir, I can’t take it anymore. I’ll be a good girl, I swear!”

“Fine,” he sighs, faux annoyance in his voice, “Since you asked nicely.”

He inserts another finger, working your cunt closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. He’s talented with his fingers and it makes sense, being that he could never really eat a girl out, until you.

Just when you think you can’t hold on any longer you ask, “Can I cum please?”

“Not yet.”

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you whine.

“I said not yet,” he reminds you.

But it’s a good thing he made you wait, because he brings his tongue to your clit, making swirls around it as he fingers you.

“Sir, please. I can’t-”

He cuts you off with a hum of approval against your clit. Your hands reach down between your legs and grasp his hair, tugging on his curls while you cum against his face. Your cunt flutters around his fingers as the pleasure built up in your core spreads outwards, infecting your limbs with waves of euphoria.

He pulls away once you’re done, wasting no time to be inside you already. He pulls his cock out of his flight suit and gives it a few strokes, before settling in between your thighs and entering you in one clean motion, without any warning.

“Din… Ah!” you gasp in surprise.

“You can take it,” he commands in a husky voice, drawing his hips back and slamming into you.

You nod and that’s when he grabs your chin, keeping your face steady and fixed on him. You’d give anything in the galaxy to rip this blindfold off already.

“Open,” he says with a squeeze on your chin.

You open your mouth and he leans down, his mouth hovering over yours. He spits in your mouth, closing it shut with his hand.

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you passionately while picking up the pace and slamming into you unforgivingly.

You moan against his lips and he pulls back to ask, “Pretty girl gonna cum already?”

“C-Can I?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“Are you gonna keep acting like a brat?”

“No, sir.”

“Cum on my cock,” he commands again, finishing his command with a slam of his hips.

You cum around his cock, walls fluttering and pulsating around him. Your orgasm pulls his own from him, painting your insides with his cum. He lets out a mangled, unmodulated groan as he finishes, a rare sound for you but nevertheless a treat every time.

He pulls out of you and lays down next to you on the cot. You hear his modulator hiss as his helmet is replaced on his head followed by his hands undoing your blindfold.

“I really am sorry about your toe,” he says with a chuckle.

“It’s okay,” you laugh, looking over at him, “But I am gonna act like a brat again.”

“That was always a given.”

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#din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #din djarin #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #din djarin one shot

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 5 months

Text

Sinner’s Demon Designs vs. Their Human Designs—

I’ll start off by saying I’m not trying to shame anyone or say these design choices are bad-it’s just something I’ve noticed about Helluva Boss’ character design choices that struck me as odd considering Hazbin Hotel’s character designs-specifically the designs of the “Sinners” or characters that were once human.

More than anything I just think it’s interesting, and am trying to examine the character designs from a world-building perspective.

So, since rewatching HB, I’ve realized that the Sinner Versions we see of Human characters are pretty close in design to their Human selves.

It’s very easy to tell these are the same characters. They’re all the same proportions with the same face shapes, and have similar silhouettes. (Critique continues below)

Now, this could change for Hazbin Hotel (and maybe there already are canon human designs for the HH sinners that I couldn’t find?) but in my opinion, most of the designs don’t translate well to what their human forms might have looked like. There’s of course exceptions to this, with the more humanoid demons, but with demons like Angel Dust, Husk, and Sir Pentious, I assume their human forms look almost nothing like their demon selves.

I think the main reason for this probably boils down to the Hazbin cast having established designs way before the series was created, but I feel this has created a problem where there are SOMETIMES rules for why Sinners look the way they do, and sometimes the designs seem completely random.

I’ve read that the way that sinners are designed is based partially on the way they die, and if that’s true, there doesn’t seem to be any rules or guidelines on WHEN to convey that—Mrs. Mayberry’s sinner form doesn’t particularly hint towards her death in any way in my opinion, but it’s VERY clear that the counselor died via drowning/water.

This wouldn’t be a huge issue on its own, but the creators have stated multiple times that Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel take place in the same universe. The rules for why characters are designed the way they are should be clear visually, but the designs of the Hazbin cast have always seemed random and confusing to me personally.

It looks like the majority of the Hazbin cast are designed after animals, but that’s not always clear either.

I didn’t realize that Angel was supposed to be a spider until I was explicitly told that was what he was, and I thought Alastor was an Owl based character due to his hair looking like a great horned owl’s feather tufts, and because his antlers were so small and dark that I didn’t notice them until I watched the pilot the first time. It’s possible the first drafts of these designs looked more like the animals they’re supposed to be based on, but if you don’t know all of the backstory or haven’t been following the creators, I’m not sure how you’re supposed to recognize these things.

Overall, I don’t think it’s a BAD thing to have a cast of characters that have very different designs, or don’t have very clear design rules for their universe. But in my opinion, having this big of a difference in the Sinner’s character designs when all of these characters are supposed to share the same universe really confuses things.

More than anything though I just found this sort of interesting. I’d be interested to hear more about the process of designing sinner characters, and to see what more sinners look like outside of the main cast that was initially designed several years ago.

Also please don’t send me hate—I like Helluva Boss, and I’ll probably like Hazbin Hotel. I just enjoy critiquing and examining the stuff I like and I’ve been on an HB kick since I rewatched the series recently and while watching this just occurred to me and I wanted to talk about it.

#funhouse convo #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #media critique #media criticism #media conversation #character design #character design convo

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

Text

Dating Dream of the Endless Would Include...

Thank you all so much for being so sweet about my last two Dream headcanons, here are the dating ones to complete the set (and also the longest ones)!

Also shock horror I know, but I still have about three episodes of the show left so sorry if this is suddenly very out of character lmao I just love him to the moon and back my petty king

This got much longer than I thought it would oops, so any and all comments are much appreciated!! Thank you ily guys I hope you liked my silly similes lmaoooo

(I do not own the Sandman or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @thekingofkawaii.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Since people seem to love these opening sentences so much and I adore writing them lmao... Dream you pathetic ass cape draping eyeliner scrungle of a wet hissing cat, living for the drama dumbass with the smile of a brick I literally love you in every single way you are impeccable. He’s so stupid bless I want to bonk him with a baguette and give him a big ‘ol hug until he awkwardly shoves me off and mopes away. Well guess what sir, this time you are NOT running away from your feelings you’re happy and in love now biss so guess what you’re getting ALL the fluff ‘cause it’s what y’all deserve.

Dream introduced you to everyone as fellow ruler of his realm pretty much straight after your first kiss (my man intense). As soon as he took you by the hand and led you back to the throne room, his hands settled on your shoulders and turned you to face the erratic shards of the stained glass windows. ‘Everything I have’, you feel him whisper against your ear as soft as mist, ‘everything I am... it is also yours.’ He reaches round to tilt your cheek up, until the back of your head is flush against his chest and he’s able to run his finger down the curve of your neck. ‘If you so wish. I will be yours forever... in both dreams and the waking world. Wherever you need me, or want me. I will be there.’

To be completely honest, too many times he’s been afraid that you’ve still left him, so overwhelmed by everything. All that panic twisting in his gut, only to find you talking over Rose Walker’s dream journal in the library. You’re standing near ear to ear with Lucienne, the two of you bumping fingers and pouring over the contents to understand where exactly her poor brother is, the whole time Mervyn yapping at your side. I mean, they all adore you from the get go: they’ve seen over the last few decades how the mere thought of you has been the only thing stopping Morpheus from spiralling too far into despair. As soon as your feet stepped down onto the whirling sand, you were marked as a pretty integral part of the dreaming, human or not.

Plus, all the ravens that you’ve found encroaching on your roof and landing to hop on your shoulders in the waking world finally make sense. Lucienne was under strict orders to keep an eye on you, to make sure you were safe at all times.

Or you’ll wander off, and Dream will come sauntering away from the palace and down the winding path towards the House of Secrets, knowing from instinct that it’s where he'll find you. That same tide tugs him forwards forward into the suffocating mists, until he emerges in front of a pile of crumbling dirt and sees your smile alight the dusk, as piercing and ruinous as the sun. Goldie is perched upon your shoulder, squawking and sneezing into your eyes from time to time. You just laugh, and the sound is enough to double Dream over in grievous endearment. Abel is sitting by your right, still half-leaning in the pit as he giggles and continues his wild story about the King of Dreams from long ago. You turn around only when you hear a rare chuckle, finally spotting Dream standing with his eyes crossed behind you, and an amused eyebrow raised at you and your friends’ antics.

You expect him to ask you to leave, or to at least lead you inside, but to your surprise he sweeps his coat behind him and takes a seat on the squishing dirt beside you. He doesn’t settle until he feels his knee rest against your own, doesn’t feel comfortable while Abel continues spouting his story, until you take his hand and cradle it in your lap. It’s cold, almost contorted like the first dawn’s mist against your skin, but even now it shakes in your hold. It almost makes you laugh: the mystical, awe-striking, beyond marvel King of Dreams so terrified of loving you that he’s shaking like a barn mouse hiding from the overwhelming world around it. The same man who had spent over one hundred years locked like a Greek statue behind solid glass, only to be finally brought to his knees by the one thing he could never escape: his soul’s serendipity.

Eventually the clouds begin to roll over the stars, as if the sky’s painter had thrown buckets of brown paint over her canvas and left the streaks of ribbed sand to sparkle across the gloominess. Yet the King of Dreams just sits there, still as stone, not even daring to look down at you despite how much fondness tugs him too. Sometime during the night your head has fallen against his shoulder and you’ve fallen asleep against the warmth of his coat. He doesn’t want to move you, until eventually he leans down to kiss your head. He joins you in some of the sweetest dreams he can muster: the two of you lounging out amidst a field of flowers on the eve of spring. The firecracker reds and warm sugar plum violets frame his smiling face and the glimmer in his eyes as he lies admits the reeds, gazing up at you. He begrudgingly allows you to weave daisy petals into his hair, after a while of him running after you through the meadows and picking you up, holding you hostage in his arms until you promise not to tell his family about it.

Speaking of, when you eventually get to meet his sister Death, she loves you just as much (or even more) than her brother does straight away!!! She just immediately wraps you up in a big, excited, squealing, full body hug before tugging you off by the arm and leading you off towards the coastal market. She leaves a very confused and huffy Dream to fend for himself for a while, or perhaps gives him the time to visit his old friend Hob at the New Inn. She leads you to her favourite quaint ice cream parlour, where the two of you spend the afternoon sharing a sundae as siblings do, out on the arching thatch seats. Eventually she squints through the sunlight to look at you a little more seriously. ‘That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen my brother, like... ever I think! Thank you. No, seriously, thank you. He’s had enough time to sulk about, it’s good to see him look himself again.’

You and Dream reconvene in the square and spend the rest of the day feeding his treasured pigeons. He keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eyes with that twitching-lip smirk, with all the stars and constellations in the universe burning in them. He tries to be smooth, stealing a pinch of your baguette and throwing the crumbs at you, just to be able to wipe them off. His slender fingers brush over the pulse point on your neck like butterfly wings flitting over the dawning petals of a blooming rose. Then up to your chin, then gliding upwards till they’re hunched, tracing over the outline of your lips. Your heart fizzes as he leans down to kiss you for the first time ever in public, his frame shadowing you, yet bottom lip so welcoming and caressing as he brushes between your own.

Too often has Lucienne walked into the throne room, only to have to clear her throat to try and get Morpheus’ attention. He has his coat wrapped around the two of you like an inky bat like cocoon, sitting together on his throne as you read through the latest census. He stops every so often out of wild amusement when you gasp and point out a new entity. In pride at how well accustomed you’re becoming to his work that he carefully kisses your forehead and leans his own against it.

When it’s raining he’s the type to look confused at first as to why you’re shivering under your jacket and trying to run under London arches. Eventually it finally clocks in his head and he takes his coat off, holding it over your head during the whole journey to your destination, getting soaked himself by the smacking downpour nonchalantly. It’s a kind of second nature, to protect you, that he doesn’t even bat an eyeliner lined eyelid anymore. It’s innate and as natural, easy to him as dreaming.

Sometimes you’ll find Dream skulking around the palace steps like a disgruntled skunk recently kicked out of a bin, still upset after the events with John Dee. Lucienne and Matthew have attempted every possible solution to talk him out of it, but you’re the only one who can bring him back round. The only presence in any realm that feels more like himself than he does. The only one that understand his every idiosyncrasy, every twitch of his face, until you’re sitting by his side as one entity. He’s too stubborn to ever admit it, but he does indeed like it when you trace your pointer finger down the tip of his nose before tapping twice against his lips as if mockingly chiding him. He always peers down above his bottom lashes with wide, almost crossed eyes as he tries to follow you, but it does ground him again. Eventually, without anything even being said, he groans and jumps up to a stand with a ‘thank you, you’re right... of course... my dream’, and then saunters off again as if he owns the catwalk.

He tries to take you out to visit other dreams, even though you’re still terrified of the waters. He slides his fingers between your own, pulling them up to rest above his heart on the docks. He carefully and calmly talks you through everything that’s about to happen, and how he will be in control of every whiff and whim that could occur. He’s still a dramatic ass though, so before he’s even finished counting down to one he’s pulled you off the decking and into the swirling depths. In the darkness, you grasp onto him like a lifeline as he pulls you further down into the macrocosm than you ever thought possible.

It is worth it though... perhaps after a lot of snuggling and apologies from Dream. You end up in the dreams of young Irish man: one who hopes to become a zoologist after his time at university. You get to enjoy a peaceful night in a canopy beneath the stars, lying side by side with Dream as he points out the constellations that swirl gold like koi fish in the grand pond of the sky. He’s still not quite used to physical touch, which is why he seems to start and flinch back when you wind your arm to rest and rub above his abdomen. He’s spent so long... so so long never really getting much attention, or care from his family, so you’ll have to coax him into realising he can trust and relax in your presence. He does eventually let his guard down after a few hours of cuddles, until he eventually slides to sit up and falls dramatically over your knees. It’s the first time he’s ever allowed you to play with his hair, lying there in the darkness as normal lovers set alight do.

I mean, you’re family, right??? Dream begs you to come along to the family get together dinner (mainly so he can have a sparring partner of equal wit and finally get one up on his sibling Desire). He swaps the placards said sibling placed around the fire-lit table so you’re sitting next to him instead of Delirium. Between meals Dream takes your hand under the table and places it on his knee, stroking his thumb over your palm to try and calm himself down. Desire catches wind (thanks to an eagle eyed Despair), and makes some bitter laced remark with a growl of their lips, flick of their hand and sip of their red wine. This ends up with you lunging for him over the candelabra, with Death barely holding you back and Dream leaning back in his seat with a grin so wide on his face he looks like a smug, satisfied cat lmao

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experimentfae · 3 months

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Requesting a lute x reader whos a fellow exorcist with slight reservations about the exterminations. Lute encourages them and reader gives into her “virtuous” ideals

Lute x Exorcist Reader

Oneshot / platonic

⋆⭒˚｡⋆♱𓆩♡𓆪♱⋆⭒˚｡⋆

When you have been created you, you felt like kid inside a adults woman’s body it’s felt nice to see the other exterminator cheer to see a new sister join the team feeling the emotional warmth of the others made you feel welcomed. The first thing you learned that your creator is Adam the fist man, I guess he seemed to nice to you and the others even when he does questionable things.

You had to eventually learn what you were created for you felt uneasy by the revelation. “I’m supposed to kill?” You asked unsure “yes kill sinners, I know you were born this week but come on sweetheart pick up the pace.” Stated Adam.

“Yes sorry sir.” “There ya go baby steps, alright lute I need you to give her the exterminator talk or whatever, give her all the details.” Adam left without another word which left you and lute. “Alright newbie this how it is, you kill any exterminator no matter if it’s a man, woman or child as long is a demon you kill it.” “Wait an even a child.” That last part stuck to you.

“Yeah and do it we don’t want another vaggie incident, I feel great potential from you.” This made you felt special “really.” She smiled “of course I can see you being a great warrior of course practice is needed.”

You nodded your head “you’re right I should practice.” She smiled as she let you go the sword fighting room to practice.

It’s been a month now and you practice with other exterminators and lute herself, other helped you practice basic fighting skills lute really helped the most she taught you tips and tricks on how to kill a sinner sooner.

Despite you practicing and bonding with the others you still didn’t entirely feel comfortable with extermination just imaging the blood over you made you feel nauseous didn’t help that any angel friends you made you couldn’t tell them about due to sera wanting to keep that exterminator’s kill sinners under the rug. Made you feel that you and other exterminations were doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“I don’t know lute are you sure we are doing the right thing?” “For last time (y/n), angels never make mistakes that means what we are doing isnt wrong it’s necessary.” She answers very confident in her opinion “but why do we hide then?” You questioned further “because (y/n) angels are too sensitive They can’t even handle the idea of crushing a bug by accident.”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense.” “Of course it’s correct and that why we come in to protect heaven and the angels within it.” This confused you “protect them from the demon, but how would they be able to do that.” “(Y/n), I know you’re young so let me put this in a simpler way Demons are bloodthirsty and love destroying good things by nature they will kill any chance they get, especially towards angels due to their envy of seeing them live in paradise. So we must protect not just the angels but heaven as a whole. Now do you understand.”

You nodded your head “well if you put that way, I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt especially the people I care about.” You agreed which made her smile “exactly I’m glad that you’re a fast learner (y/n), you remind me when I first was created I also questioned things but I learned and now I and you know what we must do to protect our home.” You nodded your head again.

“No worry lute I’ll be the best exterminator I can be!” You cheered she smiled wider proud that you were getting in line “I’m glad now continue to train.” “yes lute.” You ran to get ready to train, to try to be the best.

Adam then appeared behind lute “so you think (y/n) is ready? She smirked “yes mentally she is there but physically she will need more training but soon she will be a killing machine.” And she wasn’t wrong, you now believed that demon needed to die and deserved to die to protect you’re home, the thought of blood, demons blood a matter of fact now filled you with pride and in excitement for you’re first extermination day.

<- Back to MasterList or back to Hazbin Hotel

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #hazbin exterminators #exterminator reader #hazbin hotel heaven #angel reader

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she-likesorchids · 7 months

Text

CADENCE: Part Two

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Audio Erotica Creator Reader

Summary: Matt encounters you in the wild when he needs some coffee.

Warnings: Inappropriate boners, male masturbation, Matt getting flustered. MATT IN GREY SWEATPANTS. This might be the most tame chapter, but it's still spicy.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author's Note: Kind of a short filler installment, but it does move the story forward. Also, I just wanted to make Matt bust a nut in the middle of a coffee shop.

The next morning Matt awoke to the sound of his phone screaming “FOGGY FOGGY FOGGY” at him before his alarm went off. He threw the covers off his body, and groaned as he rolled over to answer his phone.

“What’s up, Fog?” he asked with a yawn.

“Just calling to check and see how you’re feeling. Also, just wanted to let you know you can have the day off today in case you are still feeling bad. Karen and I are going on a little field trip upstate to do some research for the Morrison case.”

“Okay, sounds good, buddy. I’ll just do some work from home today.”

“Let me know if you need anything. And try not to work too hard, Matty. You sound like shit.”

“Thanks for that, Fog. I’ll see you and Karen later.”

Matt hung up the phone and hoisted himself out of bed so he could trudge to his kitchen to get coffee. After rummaging around his cabinets, he realized that he ran out of coffee yesterday morning, and forgot to put in a grocery order so he could get more. Sighing in defeat, he went back to his bedroom to throw on a t-shirt, hoodie, and shoes so he could walk to his favorite coffee shop for his morning caffeine fix. He thought about calling Foggy back to ask him to bring him some coffee, but he didn’t want to interrupt his trip with Karen. The coffee shop would suffice, and maybe getting some fresh air would help him shake the cobwebs off.

—---------------------------------------------

Your colleague that worked the register during the morning rush called in sick, so you were relegated to filling in for them. It wasn’t your favorite, because you really weren’t much of a people person, but it had to be done. Things finally started to slow down after the initial morning rush, so you were about to take your break, until you saw a rather handsome blind man make his way into the coffee shop. You had seen him here a few times before, but you never interacted with him because you were usually busy making drinks behind the bar. Even though you desperately needed a break, you were feeling generous, so you decided to take his order before going to break. Besides, you had a bit of a hunch that his order wasn’t going to be too complicated.

“Good morning! What can I get started for you?”

Matt opened his mouth to give you his coffee order, but the words got stuck in his throat as you spoke. There was something familiar about the tone of your voice, but he couldn’t place it right away. He knew he had heard your voice somewhere, and it wasn’t his trips to your coffee shop.

“You okay, sir?” you asked, cutting through his inner monologue.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, sorry. Just need some caffeine,” Matt laughed.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place for that! What can I get started for you?”

There was that tone in your voice again. He tilted his head to the side like a confused dog as he tried to place exactly where he knew your voice from.

“Uh, just a grande drip coffee, please.”

“Sure thing! Can I get a name for that?”

“Matt, my name is Matt.”

“Okay, Matt,” you crooned as you wrote his name on a cup with a Sharpie. “One drip coffee coming right up. Would you like room for cream?”

The room suddenly got smaller, and it hit him like a ton of bricks where he knew your voice from. It was your voice that he had been getting off to for the past few weeks, and you just happened to work at his favorite coffee shop in Hell’s Kitchen. He sucked in a deep breath as he grabbed onto the counter for leverage, desperately trying to keep his composure, but then you spoke again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Matt?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, but could you excuse me for just a moment? Also where’s your restroom?” he stammered out.

“Just behind you and to the right,” you answered.

“Thanks, uh, be right back.”

You furrowed your brows together in confusion as you watched him tap his cane against the floor and make a beeline for the bathroom. You set his coffee cup to the side, and decided to wait for him to come out of the bathroom to pour his coffee so it wouldn’t be cold.

Meanwhile, Matt slammed and locked the door behind him once he was in the bathroom. He leaned against the back of the door and started palming over the bulge in his sweatpants. This can not be happening, he thought to himself. There was no way he was getting an erection while wearing gray sweatpants in the middle of a coffee shop. He stepped to the sink and turned on the cold water to splash his face, but it was to no avail. There was only one thing that was going to quell the dull ache between his legs.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slid his boxers and sweatpants down just far enough for his cock to spring out, and he slowly started stroking it. He thought about your audio that he listened to last night, and that got him right where he needed to be. The more he thought about your honeyed voice, the faster he pumped his cock in his hand. He was now fully erect and bucking his hips into his hand, chasing the release he so desperately needed. If him fucking his pillow to your voice was depraved, him masturbating in the bathroom while you waited to pour him a cup of coffee was downright perverted.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out as he smacked his free hand on the wall for leverage. He kept thinking about your voice as he got closer.

“You’re such a dirty boy, Matt. The people out there might be able to hear you, better keep quiet so they don’t know you’re in here fucking your own hand.”

“I know baby, I’m so bad. Just…..need to c-come and I’ll be fine.”

“Will you be fine? Or should I show you what else I can do with my mouth, hmmm?”

“Oh, oh, fuckfuckfuckFUCK!”

Imagining what your mouth would feel like on his cock, he came in his hand with gritted teeth. He was breathless and still holding onto the wall, and he realized he never turned the sink off from splashing his face. Thank God for that, he thought, because maybe the running muffled the sound of his grunts and moans as he jacked off thinking about your voice. He grabbed a wad of paper towels to wipe the cum from his hand, then he pulled his pants back up and washed his hands. He took a few deep breaths before splashing his face off again, then he left the bathroom to go get his coffee.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in the back of the shop when you saw him come out of the bathroom looking flustered. He was clearly shaken up, but you hopped up from your seat to go get him a fresh coffee, hoping that would help with whatever was going on with him.

“Hey, Matt!” you called out to him, and he immediately perked up. “I’ve got your coffee at the bar here, wanted to make sure it was fresh for you.”

He approached the bar, hoping that he didn’t look too disheveled, and he felt around the counter for his cup of coffee.

“It’s right here,” you said softly as you touched his hand, putting the cup of hot coffee into his.

Electricity coursed through his body at the contact. Your hand was so soft, just as silky as your voice, and he had to keep himself from grabbing your hand and pulling you across the counter.

“Thanks so much, and sorry about that. Anyway, how much do I owe you for the coffee?”

“Oh, this one’s on the house! I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you kinda look like you’re having a rough morning, so hopefully this helps,” you said with a sweet smile.

“No, this has actually been a great morning,” he thought to himself.

“Thank you so much. I’ll get you back next time, I’m in here quite a bit,” he replied as he took a sip from the cup of coffee.

“Well, hopefully I see you around again soon. Have a great day, Matt.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.”

You went back to your spot on the couch in the back of the shop, and Matt made his way towards the door. Little did Matt know, you were taking your break as an opportunity to put the finishing touches on your latest post and put it up on your page.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Matt finally made it back to his apartment with his caffeine fix in hand, and he decided to open up his laptop and try to get some work done. As soon as his computer came to life, it dinged with a notification, and it was letting him know you had posted a new audio. Since he was alone in his apartment, he opened it right away, and he was completely taken aback by what he heard.

“I’m afraid I’m guilty, but is there anything I can do to lessen my sentence? I heard you’re a really good lawyer.”

Matt laughed as he felt his cock twitch, and he reached his hands down his pants to pleasure himself for the second time this morning.

“I’m sure we can work something out, sweetheart. Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t offer you money, but I can offer you pleasure. Would that be okay? I’m just so scared.”

“Don’t be afraid, baby. I’ll take good care of you.”

#mandy writes #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfic

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pray4byron · 2 months

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hi mio! Could you write a sir pentious x fem reader that is a rodent demon (you totally can’t tell that I loved Judy Hops x Nick Wilde when I was younger) thank youu 😼

-🥥 anon

𝐬𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: ah!! this is my new format for my posts, so i hope you guys like it!! i felt like my old one was boring and plain :’) enjoy the hcs!!

warnings: mentions of sex (no smut)

proofread?: no LOL

tags: headcanons, pentious, hazbin hotel, fanfic

to pentious, your rodent-like features are literally the cutest thing to him!!

you need to bathe or get ready a certain way due to your features? he’s happy to give you any sort of assistance, despite being a snake. you’re in a heat? he’s happy to pleasure and take care of you!

as weird as it may sound, he loves watching you eat, due to the fact that you are a rodent, you have a tendency to gnaw on things. he may not say it, but thinks it’s the most adorable thing XD

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

#hazbin hotel #mio’s writing ! ☆#hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #x y/n #fanfiction #x you #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel sir pentious #sir pentious #pentious x reader #hazbin hotel pentious #hazbin pentious

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garbagevanfleet · 1 year

Text

Pink Lemonade (series)

PART NINE

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Word Count: 18k words (my longest chapter of anything, ever)

Summary: Being a counselor at your childhood summer camp had been your dream since you were little and you had a specific vision of how it would go when it finally happened. You had not, however, planned to make an immediate enemy.

WARNINGS (this chapter): EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT - 18+ ONLY, tobacco use, feelings, suspense, talk of drugs.

Editor in Chief (and creator of the moodboard on each chapter): @gardenvanfleet

MASTERPOST

Special Playlist here

You were living in a state of bliss - puppy love, sun-kissed bliss. If your infatuation for Sam weren’t all-consuming, you’d probably feel some form of regret for rejecting this kind of thing all throughout your teenage years - all the missed opportunities. But, as it were, he was all you could think about. You found yourself staring longingly at him across the table at breakfast the next morning, as if your pillow didn’t still smell like him from the night before.

With a little work, you were able to convince him to hang out with you at the lake that day, which served as the perfect excuse to show off a swimsuit you’d packed for camp that was just barely on the wrong side of modest. The Rayban’s he’d worn hid his eyes pretty well, but it pleased you to imagine they were glued to you as you laid out next to him in the sun.

The end of your break was quickly approaching; soon, the grounds would be swarming with kids and counselors again, so you took every opportunity you could to be physically close to him. When the break had started, the five days felt like they’d stretch on endlessly, but you knew everything had an end, so you tried not to mourn its passing before it was even over.

For once, the need to clean the sunscreen and sweat off your skin had outweighed the desire to be intimately close to him, so when you were done at the beach, you and Sam agreed to part ways to shower in your separate cabins with the agreement that you’d meet up again before dinner. You were toweling off when you heard your phone buzz on the lip of the sink, the vibrations sending it sliding into the basin.

You’d been expecting a text from Sam - maybe a check-in from Josh - so you were a little puzzled to see it was from the director, asking you to report to his office for a meeting at your earliest convenience. You immediately threw your hair up and assured him you’d be there in just a few moments.

When you knocked on the director’s door, it only took a few seconds for him to call you in. You had those butterflies you’d get any time you were summoned by authority, but nothing about his body language seemed to be out of the ordinary yet. You sat in the leather chair in front of his desk and offered him a smile when he greeted you.

“How is this summer going for you?” he asked, though you couldn’t tell if it was just small talk, so you kept your response brief.

“Very well, I think. I’m really enjoying it the more I get comfortable with the role.”

He nodded curtly. “You’re doing an excellent job.”

You were aware that he wasn’t the type of man to dole out undue compliments, so you let yourself feel pride in his praise as you thanked him.

“I called you in today because there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you. Has Sam made you aware of his situation?”

Your stomach sank, leaving you with a sharp panic. You tried to shove the feeling down. Though you were terrified he was going to address the very obvious relationship you’d gotten swept up in, he could just as well be checking up on Sam’s performance.

“No, sir,” you declined, shaking your head to sell what technically wasn’t a lie.

He hummed. “I had suspected as much. Normally it would be strictly against my policies - personal and otherwise - to share personal information about a counselor, but I think you’ll agree that this is an exception.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his folded hands on his desktop in a way that told you he wished he didn’t have to have this conversation. “Sam is here as a condition of legal sentencing. Obviously, I won’t disclose any more information about the crime itself, but he’s a counselor with us this summer because he’s serving a sentence.”

It wasn’t tough to keep a straight face since he hadn’t given you anything you didn’t already know, but you braced yourself as you nodded for him to continue.

“I speak regularly with his parole officer - a check-in to ensure everything is going as planned, and from what I’ve seen thus far, he’s been a perfectly adequate counselor. Having had a closer eye on him, would you agree?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed instantly. You knew Clarence Graywater well enough to know he valued professionalism above anything else, so you tried to approach the subject with a sterile tone instead of gushing the way you’d become accustomed to. “Sam is actually a great counselor. Every cycle of kids has loved him and he’s been a great partner to have - very easy to work with.”

The dark humor behind the situation wasn’t lost on you; if he’d asked you the same question a few weeks ago, who knows how you would have responded.

“Very well,” he allowed. You might have been able to convince yourself that this was nothing more than a routine evaluation of Sam’s work if it weren’t for the way the director’s mouth tightened at the corners.

He fixed his eyes on the desk for a beat as he seemed to consider his next words. “Since we can’t very well monitor his behavior for the court if he isn’t here, another condition of Sam’s parole is that he be strictly forbidden from leaving the camp grounds.” After a brief pause for you to process what he was saying, he continued. “That being said, did you and Sam leave the grounds yesterday?”

You tried as hard as you could to keep the disappointment from your face, but you knew he could see it. Your stomach was in knots as you swallowed back the nervous lump at the back of your throat and nodded. “We did.” You had to force yourself to cautiously ask, “What’s going to happen?”

The director wasn’t one to let his emotions get the better of him, but for the first time since you’d known him, the frown he was wearing showed genuine sympathy for your situation. “I’m sure you understand how serious this is. I don’t see any other choice but to report this back to the proper authorities. Please get yourself prepared to proceed without a partner for the last two cycles - we’ll split his future campers up amongst other counselors.”

You liked to think you could handle a lot. You’d always been able to stay cool under pressure, but you could feel your bottom lip starting to quiver pathetically. Unable to fully control your volume, you blurted, “No, wait. Please - this isn’t Sam’s fault.”

“Then who would you place the blame on?” he asked, though hadn’t seemed to make a firm decision, leaving you to hope that you could reason with him.

“Me. I was the one that asked him to go to town with me. We went there to get supplies for the campers - little stuff like snacks and prizes for the games we play with the kids. I asked him to go because I thought he’d know what to pick out for his boys better than I would.” Again, not technically a lie.

“Sam was well aware of the conditions of his sentencing,” the director replied, shocking you by still keeping a sympathetic approach.

“But I was the one-” You cut yourself off in frustration before trying again. “You have to agree that there’s a power imbalance between us - even though we’re both new counselors here this summer, I’m the one that’s familiar with how everything works. I’m positive he felt as though he couldn’t say no. He may not have even really considered it ‘leaving the grounds’, since we were going to get supplies for the campers here. It’s a moral gray area at best.”

He was visibly struggling with the decision as he stared at nothing in particular. “What would you have me do then?”

You let your eyes slip shut as you tried to banish the emotions that were swallowing you up. “Please. Please, consider not reporting this. He’s more than halfway through this summer. I don’t want to have to do this alone, and I don’t want to have to get familiar with a new partner.”

He remained stony-faced with his eyes fixed on you. “You’re proposing I let Sam break the terms of a legal sentence?”

“Please. This is my fault and I’ll take full responsibility for it,” you stated. “I never break rules, but I can’t see the harm in letting this one slide. You’re the director of this camp; if you feel like you must report this to his officer, you could explain that you assigned us to get supplies and he was monitored the whole time by a trusted member of your staff - because he was. I was with him every second that we were away from here.”

A few long seconds passed by, marked by the rhythmic ticking of the antique standing clock against the far wall of his office. You held your breath until your lungs started to ache for air as you awaited his final judgment, and finally, he cleared his throat to speak.

“I’m not going to report this, but believe me when I say I don’t enjoy being put in this position. If anything like this happens again, I won’t hesitate to take action.”

This time you didn’t even try to disguise the relief you felt as you heaved out a breath. “Thank you so much.”

“Find something for the two of you to do as adequate punishment,” he instructed, leaning back in his chair as the heavy cloud hanging over the room dissipated. He waved you out with a little smile, letting you know he still had a soft spot for you as a counselor. Still, you didn’t waste any time getting out of his line of sight, lest he change his mind.

It wasn’t until you got out of the building and onto the dirt path that you started to feel it - this crippling anger weighing you down. It was different than the frustrated jealousy you’d felt not that long ago at breakfast. This felt more like true betrayal.

You let yourself soak in it on the walk back to your cabin. Sam was conveniently standing just outside his door, so clearly unsuspecting as he stamped out his cigarette with a pleased smile. “There you are. I was wondering where you could have snuck off to.”

You reached past him and opened his cabin door, planted a hand on his chest, and guided him inside, all without saying a word; you knew there weren’t a lot of people around, but you didn’t want to risk the off chance that someone would hear you lay into him.

“Sam, I just got back from the director’s office,” you stated firmly.

Instantly, you could see it click into place for him as a worried frown formed over his features. Still, he had the audacity to ask, “What- Why?”

“You know why,” you snapped, not bothering to dampen the acid in your tone.

He bit into his bottom lip and muttered a curse in dread for what you were about to say to him.

“Why would you do something like that?!”

He flinched just slightly at your volume, but you could see his posture hardening in defense. “Why the fuck would he have called you in and not me?”

Ignoring his question, you demanded, “Why would you put me in a position like that? Why wouldn’t you have just said no when I asked if you wanted to go into town?”

“I don’t know, you just looked so hopeful-”

You shook your head. “No, don’t you dare put this on me. You could have just told me you weren’t allowed to leave the fucking grounds - that you were breaking the fucking law!”

“It’s embarrassing,” he reasoned with a deep-set frown. “I honestly figured that since everyone was gone and we were on break, no one would notice if I was gone for a couple of hours.”

“That’s stupid, and you know it.”

He didn’t bother denying it. Instead he just quietly asked, “So, I’m leaving then? They’re sending me back?”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “No, Sam, you’re not. You’re not, because I talked him out of reporting it - because I took responsibility for it.”

You’d been expecting him to look relieved, but instead, he adopted a frustrated expression. With a tight-set jaw and a quiet kind of outrage, he asked, “What?”

“I took responsibility for your stupid choice,” you snarled unforgivingly. “I’ve worked hard to earn the director’s trust and I’m so humiliated, Sam.”

Behind his eyes, you could see him sorting through his emotions, trying to figure out how he should feel. You were hopeful for a second that he’d come to his senses - that he’d apologize and thank you profusely and recognize your sacrifice for what it was, but your stomach sunk as his eyebrows threaded together in a deep frown. He snapped, cold and petulant, “No one asked you to do that. I don’t need you to speak for me, nor do I want it.”

The response felt like a kick in the teeth, forcing you to take a second to gather your thoughts back up. When you could speak, you found that it came out as a jagged cry. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be going to fucking jail, Sam! The very least you could do is thank me and apologize, but honestly, I’d expect something closer to groveling.”

There was a fire burning in him, making his normally soft, brown eyes look sharp and spiteful. “I’m not a fucking child. I didn’t ask you to take the fall for me - you did that all on your own. I made my choice and you made yours.”

You just stared at him, slowly shaking your head in disbelief. The few seconds of silence in the room was crushingly heavy as all the fight drained from you, leaving you feeling empty. You couldn’t see the point in wasting any more emotional energy on him, so your voice was calm and small as you told him, “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met in my life. I guess this is for the best.”

The sudden lack of hostility seemed to sober him. Once the outrage cleared and he got a look of just how disappointed you were, he softened, ripping his eyes away and casting them elsewhere. In your infinite naivety, you gave him a couple of seconds to apologize - to make it even a little bit better - but, he faltered.

You decided you didn’t want to wait for him to slap together some pitiful explanation. He called your name as you turned around and left him there, but you answered only by shutting the door hard behind you. You hoped that the lack of closure would haunt him. Just a few hours ago, he’d had access to nearly every single part of you, but the one thing you weren’t willing to give him was the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

❀❀❀

The next few hours felt like months - they crawled by with a frustrating reluctance as you sat with your back against the headboard of your bed and your face buried in your bent knees.

Just like that, you’d run the entire gamut of a romantic relationship - start to finish. This was just the bookend. The after.

You knew there were people in the world that experienced real tragedy, but this hurt. In that moment, the only thing you could feel was the ache - the loss and betrayal, leaving you without any perspective on just how mundane an issue it actually was.

You were able to find a little comfort in reminding yourself that Josh would be back sometime the following day, and whether it was true or not, you assured yourself that he’d know how to help.

He showed up early the next day, some time shortly after breakfast (which Sam was predictably absent for). When he knocked on your cabin door, you’d had a fleeting moment of hopeful panic that it would be Sam.

Josh was wearing a little smile when you opened the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coral-colored shorts as he absently rocked on his white sneakers. He greeted you with a side hug, and you hadn’t been intending to, but you pulled him in fully, a little too tight to just be casually happy to see someone.

The truth was that it was such a relief to not be alone with your thoughts, and the comforting presence of your best friend was exactly what you’d needed.

There was the slightest hesitation, like he was trying to figure out if he was missing something, before he gave a confused laugh and hugged you back. “It’s nice to see you too,” he joked, but he tensed entirely when you pulled away and he got a good look at you.

Josh’s brown eyes scanned over your defeated posture, his expression slipping into one of concern when he recognized the state you were in. “Are you alright?” he asked, following you back to your room.

With how tight your throat felt, you knew you couldn’t trust your voice to not make a fool of you, so you settled for shrugging at him. It obviously wasn’t a satisfying answer, so he repeated the question, a little more pointedly as he sat next to you on your bed.

After deciding there was no point in lying to him by playing it off, you pursed your lips and shook your head.

There was a genuine sympathy behind the way he cautiously placed a hand in the center of your back, between your shoulder blades, reminding you that this was your friend - that he was just about the safest person on earth to confide in.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted, using a tone of voice that gave you an out in case you wanted to say no.

It took a few good seconds for you to gather enough courage to speak after you parted your lips. You couldn’t quite meet his eyes, so you fixed them on a knot in the hardwood floor boards as you admitted to him, “Everything fell apart.”

“With Sam?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Josh hadn’t known you for that long, and going through heartbreak together was uncharted territory; there was a bit of uncertainty in guessing how you liked to be comforted. It was clear that he wasn’t sure in his decision to hold out his hand for you, but you took it without hesitation, using it to pull yourself closer to him until your side was pressed to his.

You felt him let out a little breath in preparation before requesting, “Tell me what happened.”

“He’s just so fucking-” You started off with a harsh, bitter tone, but cut yourself off instantly - despite how he’d hurt you, Sam was still Josh’s brother and it didn’t feel right. When you spoke again, it was more restrained and collected. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to leave and so we went into town on a date- I asked him if he wanted to and he didn’t tell me he couldn’t, Josh.”

He stiffened next to you, wearing a frightened look when you met his eyes. “Fuck. Is he okay- Is he still here?”

You closed your eyes and nodded. For some reason, the thing that suddenly choked you up was that you’d never heard Josh swear like that until it came to concern for his brother.

Since the fight with Sam, you’d been counting down the seconds until you could talk to Josh about it, but now that the moment was upon you, all you could muster was a weak, flat tone of explanation.

“Yes, he’s still here. Graywater called me into his office yesterday to question me about it. He was going to report it, but I convinced him not to.”

Josh’s features sloped into a puzzled frown as he cautiously asked, “Sam’s not in trouble at all?”

You breathed a humorless laugh and shook your head. “No.”

You tried not to feel upset at the relieved exhale Josh gave upon hearing that confirmation. “You took the blame for him?”

“Yep.”

There was a silent pause before he chanced, “And how did he take it?”

“Not well, Josh,” you stated sourly.

Josh let his eyes slip shut as he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and, in an exasperated whisper, he breathed to no one in particular, “Oh, no...Sam.”

“He was genuinely angry.” You waited a beat before admitting, “Granted, I was fucking mad at him for not telling me and putting me in that position in the first place, but I’m fucking stupid for expecting him to apologize.”

He shook his head at you, half-pleading, “Don’t do that to yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

You swallowed back a sob; you’d been carrying around so much guilt, that hearing him absolve you of it was like the snap of a rubber band. When he heard it, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s okay.” A deep frown was audible behind the assurance as he offered it to you.

You shook your head as best you could with your cheek against his shoulder. “It’s not.”

“Listen, I know this hurts - I can only imagine, but take a deep breath,” he requested, waiting until you did so to continue. “You’ve got a choice to make now. You can pack it up and walk away from whatever it is you two have - no one on earth could blame you for that. The summer will come to an end, you’ll go home, and you probably won’t ever see him again. This’ll all just morph into a fond memory some day.”

You should find that idea comforting, but instead, after a couple of silent seconds, you prompted, “Or?”

“Or, you could forgive him.”

You huffed exasperatedly. “It’s kinda hard to forgive someone that doesn’t understand how he’s fucked up.”

Josh shook his head and warned, “No, no. Don’t mistake his stubbornness for stupidity - he’s not stupid. I promise you that Sam knows exactly what he’s done. I’m willing to bet he’s sitting in his cabin beating the shit out of himself right now.”

“I don’t care,” you informed him flatly, prompting him to hum in amusement.

“I don’t either,” he agreed, making you crack a smile that he couldn’t see thanks to the position you were sitting in, leaning against him. “But, my point is - he does care. Despite his very poor choices, he cares about you a lot, which lands you on the very short list of people that can claim the same.”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling the ache of grief at the thought. “Sometimes I think he only cares about himself.”

“I didn’t ask him to stay with you that night of the party,” he admitted after a silent moment of consideration, wearing a little smile. “I am guilty of some meddling between you two, but not that.”

You frowned, pulling your cheek off his shoulder so you could look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I asked him to walk you back to your cabin that night because I was trying to see how much he’d do for you. I knew he was soft for you, but I wanted to know just how bad it was.”

“Did he tell you he liked me?” you tried, grasping for something to help you understand.

Josh snickered at you. “C’mon - he didn’t have to. I’ve seen the way he treats people he actually dislikes. If you genuinely don’t like someone, you go out of your way to not be around them. If you don’t like them, you don’t pick on them. All you two ever did was just rough flirting, as far as I could tell.”

Your eyes narrowed accusingly as you felt your face flush pink. “There were times when he was genuinely kinda mean to me.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, but you weren’t sure if it was meant for you or Sam. “That’s because he’s lousy at letting people in. I think he panicked when he realized how close he was to getting what he wanted.” He paused for a second and then pointedly added, “Which is obviously you.”

You stared at him as you tried to process what he was saying, but when you realized you didn’t have the energy or time necessary to do so, you asked, “So...the party?”

“Ah, right. So, when I asked him to walk you back to your cabin, I was hoping maybe it would help him realize that he had feelings for you, but I never expected him to stay with you,” Josh explained and then snorted a laugh. “You should have seen his face - the moment when he realized you’d told me he lied and said I made him stay. I swear to god he was ready to physically fight me if I brought it up to him, but I never did.”

“Are you gonna talk to him now?” you asked carefully, dreading the answer. The last thing you wanted was to create tension between the two of them, and you knew Sam would take that confrontation even more poorly than he had with you.

“No,” he assured. “I’m going to try as hard as I can to stay out of it unless he directly asks me for advice, but he won’t.”

You hummed, considering. “What if I never want to see him again? Can you and I still be friends?”

He frowned and then took your hand to give it a little squeeze. “Of course. We were friends before him.”

Offering him a smile was really all you could think to do. The truth was that you didn’t know how you wanted to proceed with Sam, but it made you feel full and warm to know that you’d always have a friend like Josh.

He did an excellent job of keeping you distracted for the rest of the day. You decided that, for your punishment, you’d work on cleaning up the beach; it wasn’t like people actively littered, but things would fall off boats or blow out of trash cans, make their way into the water, and inevitably end up strewn about the sand. Josh walked with you, picking up an odd piece of garbage here and there and tucking it into the bag you were carrying when you held it open for him.

As nice as it felt to be doing something good with a person that always made you feel at ease, the weight of your problems had a physical effect on you, and that grew tenfold, the moment you’d gotten back to your cabin. The knowledge that new campers would be showing up in the morning was like a looming fist hanging over you - not because you didn’t want to do this job, but simply because that meant you’d be forced to interact with Sam again.

The time came too soon. Counselors started getting lined up right after breakfast was finished, ready to be debriefed about the upcoming cycle of kids, but Sam didn’t show up until the last minute. You pointedly didn’t look at him directly, because, frankly, you didn’t want to know how he was doing.

You weren’t sure whether or not he’d hold his head high and pretend like nothing had happened, or if he’d look a little downtrodden, maybe even apologetic, but you didn’t care to know. You told yourself it wouldn’t make a difference anyway - you’d be able to maintain your coldness towards him, no matter what he appeared to be feeling, but you knew it was a lie. You knew that if he did look sad, it would only leave you with unwarranted guilt, and you refused to let that happen. As Sam took his place beside you, you glanced up at Josh to catch him giving you a sympathetic, tight little smile that you forced yourself to return.

The children were sweet and excited, which helped a great deal; it was hard to be angry when they were beaming toothy grins at each other. It served to remind you that, no matter what drama you were experiencing, it wasn’t fair to the children to let them shoulder the burden with you. They were there to have a fun, educational two weeks, and you decided then and there that you were going to set aside your issues with Sam whenever they were around, but that quickly proved to be easier said than done.

For the first couple of hours, you were able to go off on your own with your girls, getting acquainted with them, but that could only last so long. One timeslot before dinner, you were set to do a forest foliage activity as a whole team, and the entire day, you kept looking at your schedule like it would magically change. You tried to hype yourself up on the walk to the meeting place. You told yourself it would be okay - that all you had to do was remember how shitty he’d been to you, and it would be easy to stay hating him, but you were fucking wrong. You kept your eyes anywhere else but on him as you approached the group of boys, but it didn’t matter how justified your anger was - the second you met his gaze, you lost your grip on it.

He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his hair tied back more carelessly than he usually opted for. If you hadn’t spent so much of the last few weeks studying his features, you surely wouldn’t have noticed the slight bags under his eyes. His face was void of an expression, but not in the controlled way he used to wear to convince you of how bored he was by it all - now, he just looked spent. He looked like a child’s toy that was nearing the end of its battery life.

When he met your stare, you realized that Josh was right - Sam was visibly perfectly aware of how he’d hurt you.

Naively, you’d been praying you’d look at him and feel disgusted. You’d sincerely hoped that you’d see his face and find that you didn’t want him anymore. You wanted the pain he’d inflicted to be enough to override the infatuation that once consumed your every passing second - but it didn’t. He let you hold his eyes for a few seconds before ripping them away to fix his focus on the ground, and that hurt so much worse than anything he’d done up to that point.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting - it wasn’t like he was going to rush up to you and pull you into his arms. It wasn’t even reasonable for you to expect that he’d apologize - not in front of all of these unknowing kids. Still, you were learning, more and more every day, that emotions don’t abide by the rules of logic. It didn’t make a difference - it still hurt.

You introduced him to your girls as the boys’ counselor but didn’t speak a word to Sam directly as you walked them through the ins and outs of regional wild plants. You barely had to consult your manual to teach them what was poisonous and some history about what certain things were once used for, all the while, reminding them that it was never okay to eat anything you found in the forest. Sam seemed more or less content to just let you take over, which, stupidly, also upset you. It was starting to become clear that there was nothing he could have done that wouldn’t piss you off - you’d have been seething if he’d chimed in without prompting.

At the end of the activity, you left any parting nicety unsaid and headed off to dinner separately. True to “first day” form, your girls stuck close to your side, carrying on a riveting conversation about iceberg lettuce as you lead them through the food line, and when it came time to pick a table, you breathed a sigh of relief to find that Josh was alone at a table with a few of his boys, working on opening milk cartons and sauce packets for them.

“Can we sit?” you asked him, receiving a slightly-confused smile back.

“Of course, make yourselves comfy.”

Quiet enough that only a few kids and Josh could hear, you added, “I guess I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to sit with Sam.”

He took on a sympathetic expression as he flicked his eyes across the room. You followed the direction to see Sam, sitting with his boys pooled around him towards the back corner of the hall. Another counselor you didn’t recognize was at the table too, but they weren’t interacting with anyone but their own campers.

Deep, deep within you, you felt bad, but you put on a cold expression, deciding to say nothing, lest something truly mean accidentally slip out. You were sure that it would only be a couple of days before his campers were off on their own and Sam was back to eating in his cabin.

For the rest of the meal, he went unmentioned. Instead, the Maple boys excitedly told you and your girls all about the farmette activity they’d just had with Josh, melting your chilled heart by gushing excitedly about the baby animals.

You leaned across the table towards a couple of them. Employing a playful, hushed tone as if it were a secret, you asked them, “Josh didn’t steal any kittens, did he?”

Josh let out a gasp of faux offense, putting his hand on his chest to exaggeratedly object. “I would never. How could you accuse me of something like that?”

Just as you’d hoped, that sent the group of kids sitting around you into fits of giggles, and for the first time in too long, everything felt okay.

❀❀❀

For the remainder of that week, you were successfully able to avoid speaking to Sam directly. Every day, he became less of a main character in your life, and every day, the anger subsided a little bit more.

You were still upset, of course; what he’d done had been shitty and wrong, but it wasn’t weighing you down like it once had. It used to feel like that fight had left you with a kind of heartache plague, but you found yourself going whole days without thinking of him unless your eyes were on him directly.

Your logical brain thought it would be efficient to plan it all out - if you kept letting go of a little anger at a time, you’d likely feel perfectly okay by the end of the summer. You still expected it would hurt when you dug into the memory of it, but that’s all he’d be - a memory.

Except, shit never works that way, and you, apparently, never learn. During a free period, you were getting some of your things organized in your room when there was a gentle knock on the door.

In honesty, you had such faith in it being Josh, that you hadn’t even considered you’d answer the door to see Sam standing in front of you in a pair of jean shorts and his yellow camp shirt.

“What?” You shocked yourself with how sharp your tone was, and you were suddenly grateful that all your girls were off on their own - they didn’t need to see you act like this.

In the opposite direction, he used a sheepish demeanor that was so unlike him that it took you off guard. “Hey,” he offered simply. “Should we go pack for the trip?”

You let your eyes slip shut in exasperation. In the pursuit of getting him off your mind, you’d forgotten all about the camping trip - it had slipped your thoughts so thoroughly, that you assumed he was there to apologize.

Instead of actively addressing the fact that you’d forgotten, you just shook your head, just on the wrong side of bitterness as you declined. “No, I’ll do it alone in a bit.”

He raised an eyebrow at you and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He pulled his eyes from your to roll them tiredly. “You’re really going to do all this work by yourself because you don’t want to be in the same room as me?”

“Yep. How does it feel?” you spat back, clearly referencing how he used to do the same to you.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the way his shoulders slumped. You’d never seen him look so dejected, but it was pretty easy to deduce that he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty - he was just past the point of being able to hold back his guilt.

“Bad,” he admitted simply. “But I’m not going to let you pack all that shit alone.”

Just like that, the fire was lit again. Your hands balled into fists as you sarcastically drawled, “Oh, you’re not going to let me?”

Shocking you, yet again, Sam offered no hostility to match yours; if he was angry, you saw no evidence of it. He put his hands up in surrender.

“Listen, let’s just go do this and get it over with. You don’t have to like me - you don’t even have to be cordial, but I’m here to help.”

As much as it pained you to acknowledge, even in your own head, he was right. But, who the fuck was he to suddenly be acting like a responsible adult? That’s what you’d wanted from day one, but the character development now?

It felt like a slight.

You let out a suspiciously tight scoff, and you rolled your eyes dramatically to hide the fact that they were starting to water.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll meet you down there in fifteen,” you informed him coldly, turning on your heel and shutting the door in his face.

You heard his shoes crunching up the rocky dirt as he walked away from the cabins, and you waited until the sound was faint enough before letting out a choked-back sob. You counted yourself lucky that it was solitary - you were able to push everything else back after you dabbed at your eyes.

You considered standing him up as you surveyed yourself in your bathroom mirror, just to make damn sure he wasn’t clued into how that interaction had affected you. In the end, you decided it would be beyond childish - you were still a counselor, this was still your job, and he was still your partner, no matter how deeply and thoroughly you lamented it.

When you showed up to the dining hall, he was already in the kitchen, pulling down the familiar red cooler from the shelves. The only acknowledgment you received upon entering was his eyes flicking up from his task to meet yours, and only for a split second, but that was fine by you.

The room was tense and uncomfortable as you both silently packed. You made sure to be conscious of where he was so you could keep a good distance between the two of you, but you must have lost track of him at some point - you turned to grab the ice packs out of the freezer and ran directly into him. Your chests collided, knocking the breath from your lungs and sending the ice packs skittering across the tile with the solid impact.

It was exactly like that first day of camp, except this time, he was the one wearing an apologetic grimace, waiting for you to snap. He had ahold of your arms as he steadied you, but you pulled away from his touch out of panic and stumbled back against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, causing you to exasperatedly shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you dismissed flatly, nodding your chin towards the door. “Go. I can get the rest.”

Out of your peripheral vision, you could see him staring at you in disappointed uncertainty for a few prolonged seconds before exiting the room. To your deep dismay, soon after he was gone, you found that it didn’t feel as satisfying to be alone as you hoped it would.

The next day was the worst you’d had on the grounds of Camp Forest Springs. From the moment breakfast was over, you were stuck with Sam. He was with you while you collected the packed coolers, and he brought up the rear on the walk out to the campsite. He was there, falling into the routine of crafting a fire in the pit and right by your side as you prepared the food, and you were forced into learning a tough lesson: All the progress you’d thought you’d made with unraveling your feelings for him was simply because you’d been able to create physical distance between the two of you. You hadn’t had to see him. Or hear his voice. Or smell him when he was close enough, but suddenly, it was like you were bound to him.

The entire time you were out there, you’d been dreading bedtime. On one hand, going to bed would mean that this experience was almost over. On the other, it meant you were nearing a milestone; for the past three cycles, you’d met him outside in the middle of the night. It had become an unspoken tradition that you once looked forward to.

But, as you slipped into your sleeping bag, the only thing you could think of was the conversation you’d had with Josh when he got back from break. You had a choice to make. Foolishly, you hoped maybe Sam wouldn’t do it - that maybe he’d spare you the burden, but there was no such luck; about an hour after you’d gone to bed, you heard the tell-tale rustling sound of him sneaking out of his tent.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pursing your lips anxiously. Multiple times, you considered going out to talk to him - just because you would meet him out there didn’t mean you’d have to forgive him, right? You could have it both ways - you could keep your dignity by staying mad and still go out to see him, right?

It was nothing but a pretty lie you were trying to convince yourself of. You wanted to forgive him - you missed him and the way he talked and his unguarded, goofy laugh, but you had to protect yourself.

With your face buried into the fabric of your pillow, you tried to keep quiet as you cried, but it became increasingly difficult when, after about twenty minutes of waiting for you, he made his way back to his tent and slipped inside. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, struggling to breathe through your choked sobbing, but one thing was for sure - you’d certainly made a choice.

❀❀❀

You couldn’t bring yourself to meet Sam’s eyes the next morning, but he didn’t seem to be going out of his way to get your attention. Maybe he was hoping you hadn’t heard him last night, either to spare himself the embarrassment of being rejected or to hold onto the hope that everything was still going to work itself out.

The guilt ate you alive to the point that you texted Josh to come to your cabin during your first free period the following day. He arrived chipper as usual but his expression fell the second he realized you’d been crying again.

You did your best to explain it all to him, but he had to put in some effort to make out certain parts when you got too choked up to speak properly.

“I feel so fucking bad,” you told him once you felt like you could catch your breath. “How do people get through this and still function?”

He hummed through a sympathetic smile. “Love’s just like that. But, I would like to also point out - you’re getting through it and functioning.”

You barked out a humorless laugh. “Barely. If you could call this ‘functioning’.”

“Well, I’ve yet to see you let the quality of your work slip. But, maybe you should think about what this means. Maybe you feel this bad right now because you don’t want to let him go.” While he spoke, he rubbed comforting circles into your back with a firm palm.

You groaned, tipping your head back in frustration. “Don’t tell me that.”

There was an amused little tilt to his lips as he replied, “I don’t think I have to. I think you already know.” He paused a second before cautiously continuing. “It hurts this bad because you love him.”

You shot him a look that was supposed to be an accusatory glare but ended up as a pleading frown. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I’m not saying you have to or even should. I’m just saying - I think you should hear him out.”

“Okay, but first he would actually have to apologize.”

“If he apologizes,” Josh agreed with a nod. “But I have a feeling that he will.”

You weren’t as sure, but in the moment, the affirmation helped ease a little of the ache, so you let it slide.

❀❀❀

Sam stayed true to his unspoken stance on letting you eat your meals in peace, even when your and Josh’s kids started branching off on their own, leaving open seats at your table. Even you had to admit, it was kinda sweet. Whenever he’d avoided eating meals with you in the past, it was so he could be alone in his cabin, but he surprised you by sticking by his kids, letting them plant themselves next to him for every mealtime.

More to his credit, even with you giving him the coldest possible atmosphere every time he was within twenty feet of you, he stayed cordial - open, even - to your attention, should you choose to give it to him. The dynamic stayed like that for a couple of days, but you could feel the tension starting to build.

It didn’t feel hostile at all - at least, not on his part. You could feel him looking at you, either staring absently or sneaking quick peeks when he thought you were focused on something else.

The dam finally broke on the last day of that cycle. The special activity was making tie-dyed t-shirts with your kids, and while it was fun to watch them get really excited about all the possible colors, you knew the second they announced it that it was going to be a monumental mess. Everyone was given rain ponchos and medical gloves, but that didn’t help with the kid that accidentally splashed lime green on your face as you were bent over to help her.

She had obviously not done it on purpose and she was immediately apologetic, but you were left trying to wipe the little dots of pigment from your cheeks in the camera of your phone. You were so focused on yourself on the little screen that you hadn’t realized Sam was standing right in front of you until you heard him speak.

“You should leave it - I think it suits you,” he suggested with a little smile, far too playful for what the nature of your current relationship called for. You lowered your phone to find him visibly questioning whether that was an okay thing to say, and it took everything in you to pretend it wasn’t charming, because you sure as fuck wished it weren’t.

As punishment for cracking your resolve so easily, you kept a blank expression as you stared directly into his eyes and let him stew in the tense uncertainty for a few long seconds before asking, “What do you want?”

He worried his lips together at your sharp tone before he worked up the courage to meekly joke, “All business these days, huh?” When he realized you were only going to stare impatiently for a few more fleeting moments before he would lose his chance, he cleared his throat and softly asked, “I’m just hoping- Can we talk?”

Despite Josh’s words about “hearing him out” ringing in your head, before you could stop it, you snapped, “No.”

He frowned for only a second before breathing a nervous laugh and trying again. “Okay, can I talk and you listen?”

After wrestling with yourself, you let out a long, relenting sigh. “Talk,” you allowed through an impatient tone.

Looking genuinely relieved, he glanced around to make sure no campers were within earshot, but all of them were preoccupied, having spread out and spilled over into other groups to socialize.

He briefly gathered his thoughts and then admitted, “I miss you. A lot.”

It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, and you would have found it repulsively unacceptable if it weren’t for the genuine emotion behind it. It was quiet and breathy. Humble. He was lowering himself to you in a way he never had before.

It didn’t make everything right, but it did get your attention. Still, you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily, even if he did look particularly lovely with his hair freshly washed and wavy as the summer breeze brushed the tips of it against his collarbones.

“Did Josh put you up to this?” you asked, keeping your tone from letting on that a part of you desperately wanted to forget every undesirable thing he’d ever said or done.

He drew in a slow breath as he figured out how he wanted to answer. “I was under the impression that the right way to approach the situation was to leave you alone. Y’know, since you really seemed like you wanted to be...left..alone.”

The explanation was choppy as he pulled the thought from his lagging brain.

“I just wanted to show you that I could respect that,” he continued, finally answering your question before adding, “But he told me that was ‘fucking stupid’ - his words, not mine.”

That was what did it. You weren’t quick enough to stop the smile that broke your façade but seeing it seemed to give him a cautious optimism that was almost worth it. You schooled your expression back to something serious just a second later to press him further. “Okay, but were you just not going to apologize to me?”

“Honest to god, I really thought you’d see me coming to you to apologize as selfish - like you think I was only doing it so I could rid myself of some of the guilt.”

You scanned his features for sincerity, not rushing yourself, even though he was visibly anxious. When you decided he was being genuine, you stated, “That’s also ‘fucking stupid’.”

A tired little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he nodded. “Yeah, he said the same thing.” After a beat of him realizing you were waiting on him to continue, he hurried to add, “So, I intended to come over here today to just apologize to you - I was going to tell you that you don’t have to be nice to me or forgive me, but- Well, I’m bad at this. So, when I opened my mouth, that’s...obviously not what came out.”

You huffed a humorless laugh and rolled your eyes. “It still hasn’t come out, and I’ve been listening to you talk for like two minutes - which is a hell of a lot longer than you deserve.”

He quickly nodded. “I know. I am sorry, but I don’t think I can give the heartfelt apology you deserve without attracting some attention. So, I was hoping we could talk again tomorrow. In private.” He paused for comedic effect and then playfully finished with, “Y’know, in case I cry.”

He was right - if you were ever going to get the emotion from him that you were owed, you were going to have to have the comfort of privacy. Just because you didn’t want him thinking he was off the hook, you rolled your eyes, though there was a shade of fondness buried in the gesture despite your wishes. “Fine.”

The breath he let out was visibly relieved as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jean shorts. You nodded at the bright purple dye splattered down his upper arm, visible due to him having ripped the sleeves off his t-shirt at some point in the past.

“But, you’re probably gonna wanna wash that off sooner rather than later.”

He glanced down to the spot and a genuine smile spread across his mouth, like he was tickled-fucking-pink to be talking about literally anything else. You figured that was a pretty good time to make your exit, before he could coax any more niceties out of you.

❀❀❀

You spent the next morning seeing your campers off, making sure to not meet Sam’s eyes from across the dirt pick-up area - you didn’t want him assuming he had any place in your thoughts, even though he was all you thought about half the time.

He hadn’t given you any specific time he was planning to stop by, so after getting back to your cabin, you took a long shower, deciding that you weren’t going to plan your day around him. As you washed off all the sweat and dirt, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for whatever was going to spill out his mouth, and at the end, you had a renewed sense of confidence. You reminded yourself that he was just coming over to apologize. You were under no obligation to forgive him or even treat him kindly, even if he was making an honest effort.

He finally showed up about halfway through the day, giving you a tight little smile as you swung open the cabin door. Instead of greeting him, you stepped aside as a prompt for him to enter, and he did so wordlessly.

You leaned back against the shut door and stared at him until he figured out that you were waiting for him to speak, and upon that realization, he started in a haste.

“Sorry that it took me so long. I wanted to give you time to enjoy being child-free again,” he explained and then continued with cautious hopefulness. “I think you’d be proud of me - I already took all the laundry down to be washed.”

“I suppose I would be if circumstances were different,” you admitted, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. “But they’re not.”

He let out a long breath, cast his eyes to the knotted wooden floor and then nodded. “You’re right.”

“You know, it’s not even about you not telling me you weren’t supposed to leave the grounds - that was obviously shitty of you, but I could have forgiven you easily enough. But, having you get angry at me for trying to help fix your fuck up was fucking heartbreaking, Sam.”

“I know,” he spoke softly, but you just shook your head at him.

“No, I don’t think you do,” you objected, starting to feel your sinuses sting with the threat of tears that you immediately worked to fight off. “I thought we were so far past that. We’d been spending so much time together and everything felt so easy with you for the first time. I finally didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells to try and stay in your good graces.”

After taking some time to process what you were saying, he finally looked you in the eye and, in the most sincere tone you’d ever heard him use, he told you, “I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. There’s really no suitable excuse, so I won’t try to make one up, but I hate knowing I hurt you like that. I regretted it instantly but I was too much of a prideful jackass to apologize before you left.”

You were pretty sure he was done speaking until he seemed to remember something and then sucked in a quick breath before adding, “And, thank you. I know I would be sitting in a jail cell right now if it weren’t for you sticking your neck out.”

Admittedly, you weren’t sure what to say. You’d been worried you’d be tempted to forgive him instantly - without question, but you found no such temptation. You nodded at him, offering only a little “okay”.

He looked just a little disappointed in this interaction ending this way, but he was making an honest effort to hide it, which you appreciated - you couldn’t handle having to feel guilty on top of everything else. Thankfully, he left without another word, only tossing you the same tight smile he’d been wearing upon entering your cabin.

❀❀❀

When you told Josh all about what happened, he seemed earnestly happy for you and Sam both that the worst part was behind you. “It’s all uphill from here,” he’d said, but you weren’t so sure. Sure, maybe the worst part was behind you, but that didn’t mean anything past that would be pleasant.

Sam stuck true to his word - you never felt like he was trying to butter you up or work his way back into your good graces. He actually hadn’t even addressed you about anything other than work until the day before this cycle’s camping trip.

When he showed up at your door to ask if you were ready to pack up the food, he’d offered to meet you down in the kitchen like you had last time, but you declined. After all, it was silly to make you each walk there separately when you were headed to the same place at the same time.

Neither of you said a word as you paced the trails, but it wasn’t uncomfortable the way it had been before. Finally, after months of this, he felt like your co-worker. Just your co-worker. It was what you’d thought you’d wanted from the beginning, but you found you didn’t like him like this very much either. Which left you with an odd dilemma. You hated having Sam as your adversary, but you didn’t like having him as a friend either - not after everything you’d experienced with him. It felt incomplete.

But, you didn’t know if you had it in you to truly forgive him. Or to let yourself love him again, not in the unbridled way you had before.

As you pulled food from the cabinet and set it on the kitchen island to be sorted and packed away, for the first time in a while, you heard him let out a quiet sigh. You couldn’t see his expression because he was facing the fridge, but it was quick, as if he were preparing himself for something.

He spun around on his heel and met your eyes, wearing a smile that didn’t quite cover the concern in his eyes. “I have something to say.”

“I can see that,” you noted with a nod, keeping your tone a little flat but not cold. “Say it, then.”

His eyes flicked around as he sunk his top row of teeth into his bottom lip. “Look, I’ve never been good at talking about my feelings. I’m kind of notorious for it actually,” he unnecessarily informed you with an anxious-sounding laugh. “I always trip myself up thinking that I’m not going to be able to put my thoughts to words so I just don’t even try.”

He saw your features slip into a slight frown in your confusion, so he rushed himself to figure out how to continue.

“I guess I’m just trying to say that the thing we do on the camping night - where we slip out of our tents and meet- It’s something I...didn’t realize meant something to me until you didn’t show up last time and I guess I just wanted to know if we could...go back to doing that.”

As you fixed your eyes on the floor, you licked your lips absently, having to use every bit of your brainpower to not show him what that question had done to you; you were feeling butterflies again. You’d really convinced yourself that you wouldn’t feel that way about him again, but it was always a lie and you knew it. The proof was in the way your heart was racing.

You’d been expecting him to walk it back as soon as he’d seen your hesitation, but, to his credit, he just waited patiently for your reply.

You opened your mouth to tell him you weren’t sure, but what came out was a rather struggled admission of, “Sam, you’re fucking killing me.” It shocked you to have said it, but it shocked him enough that he sucked in a sharp breath and then let the stainless steel fridge door hold his weight as he concernedly but cautiously asked, “What do you mean?”

As you stared at him, you could feel your eyebrows knitted together in a deep-set, distressed frown. “Do you really think I want nothing to do with you now? You think I went from wishing you were my honest-to-god boyfriend to suddenly actually despising you?” The tone of your voice came out desperate, but you didn’t have the capacity to care as his eyes widened.

“Sam, it has taken everything I’ve got to keep you at a distance. Aside from the fact that we work together in close proximity every single day, I fucking miss you too.” In your despair, you’d said it all but the one thing that you’d been keeping for yourself, but you realized, at that exact moment, that you could never move forward until you told him, “I loved you, Sam. I- I still do, but I don’t think I can go through that again. I know it’s dramatic and it makes me sound crazy, which is why I decided to bury it all, but I’ve never experienced anything that hurt the way that did.”

He looked like he was barely breathing as he ran his hands through his hair, his breathing suddenly choppy and labored.

“You’ve taught me a lot of hard lessons, Sam, and I am currently trying my very fucking best to learn them.”

It fell silent between the two of you for just a second before he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Please don’t let that be what you take away from this.” He gestured between the two of you with his pointer finger.

The laugh you let out was tinged with just a shade of bitterness as you asked, “What do you want me to take from it?”

Even though it seemed like the logical next step in the conversation, the question took him off guard. He stared at you in silence for a few prolonged moments as his bottom lip hung open an inch or so. The moment he decided on an answer was visible, but even then, he had to take a quick breath before admitting, “Me.”

Unsure as to what he was implying, you naturally took on a puzzled expression, forcing him to clarify, “I want you to take me with you. Even as ‘just a friend’.”

You pursed your lips together as you held his gaze - you were hoping to find some kind of deception behind his eyes so that you could reject him and still feel like you did the right thing, but the only thing you found was sincerity. Even though the shade of his eyes was altered by the harsh, fluorescent lighting, it was still Sam - the soft Sam that he’d accidentally let you get to know.

It hurt. You suddenly felt so choked that you had to work on shoving back the lump in your throat. You shook your head at him, unsure to your very core about what your next step should be.

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know if I can be ‘just your friend’,” you informed him sorrowfully.

“Will you try?” he asked, the hope evident in both his eyes and his cadence. He was doing everything right - he wasn’t putting guilt or pressure on you. Nothing he was doing felt manipulative or as if there were an ulterior motive behind it. He was speaking with you in the most respectful manner possible and that realization put a sour look on your face.

“Why couldn’t you have just done this in the first place?” you lamented, gesturing to him with an open palm. “Absolutely none of this would have had to happen if you’d just been this person with me. Why does it seem like this honesty is coming to you so easily now - after you’ve already done the damage?”

He seemed to take the question to heart. He let his eyes slip shut and his head tip back as he took a deep, shaking breath, finally past the point of trying to control your perception of him. “I can’t take it back, babe,” he informed you apologetically but as soon as the term of endearment slipped from his mouth, he looked you over to make sure you didn’t react negatively. When he realized you were going to let it go unaddressed, he continued, “But you have to know I regret it, right?”

“Of course, you do,” you agreed with a firm frown of grief, leaving all the rest unsaid.

The room fell silent, save for the whirring sound of the refrigerator, leaving the two of you to feel the weight of the words you’d shared. After a while, he let out a sigh of surrender and anxiously scratched at the back of his neck.

“Look, I’m going to be honest - I’m not sure what to do here. I don’t know where the line is between ‘communicating my regrets and trying to make amends’ and ‘being a fucking nuisance’ so...” He trailed off before starting again, his tone even more gentle this time. “I’ve laid it all out for you. You know I still want you - however you’ll take me. The rest is up to you.”

He didn’t wait for a response before offering you a weak but honest smile and turning back to the task of collecting the condiments. For the next moment, he busied himself to show you he could respectfully move on from the moment, but you remained stagnant, just taking him in like this.

Obviously unsure as to why you were just staring at him, unmoving, he snuck a look at you out of the corner of his eye and then curiously pivoted to face you again.

You weren’t really sure what you were going to say when you opened your mouth, but it just naturally slipped out anyway. “I’ll think about it, Sam,” you stated, more confidently than you felt as you nodded tightly.

You could see the way your assurance changed his posture - defeated and droopy to pulling in a hopeful breath until his lungs were full. Just because you felt like he’d truly earned it, you quietly told him, “And thank you. For trying.”

As much as he was trying to downplay it, a wistful smile found his lips, effectively melting the ice you’d built around him in your mind just a little more. He gave you a nod and this time, when you both went back to packing, it didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The trip out to the campsite felt easier this time around. It wasn’t as fun or exciting as it would have been if you were on the same terms with him as you’d been at any point before the fight, but it also didn’t feel like a grim death march like the last time either so you counted it as a win.

He wasn’t as timid with you anymore either, which, to your deep surprise, was a relief. You’d thought it would be upsetting to look at him and not see him looking like a guilty puppy, but it wasn’t at all. That’s why, as you tucked into your sleeping bag for the night, you didn’t zip it - “just in case”, you’d told yourself.

It felt a little like deja vu as you lay awake, waiting with bated breath as you strained your ears. The night was calm and quiet, but you were irrationally afraid you were going to miss it - you weren’t sure you even wanted to meet with him that night, but you didn’t want to be robbed of the decision either.

You hadn’t realized you’d started to doze until you were swiftly pulled from your sleep by the familiar rustling, and the second you heard the sound of his footfall on the dirt, you started to shrug out of your sleeping bag.

Sam was sitting on the same log you always found him on, but he clearly was not expecting you - when he heard you slip through the tent flap, his head whipped around to show you his surprised face outlined by the moonlight. You kept a relatively flat expression as you sat next to him, leaving a few inches in between the two of you; then you just folded your hands in your lap and fixed your eyes on them.

You could feel him studying your face, charmingly trying to figure out if it was safe to let himself feel hopeful, but the relief was audible, even through a whisper as he admitted, “I can’t believe you came.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and cautiously allowed your lips to turn up into a little smile. “No? Do you think I shouldn’t have?”

He immediately opened his mouth to reply but then stopped himself abruptly. After taking a second to chew it over, he let out the most sheepish laugh you’d ever heard from him, breathy and nervous. “I don’t think that’s for me to answer. Do I think I deserve whatever you’re giving me right now?” he asked rhetorically, and then instantly answered himself, “Probably not. But I’m...indescribably happy to see you.”

There was something you had to get off your chest, but it was a struggle to get yourself to say it. You bit your lip and dug deep inside of yourself to admit, “I’m self-conscious that I’ve overreacting.”

Once he realized what you were suggesting, he shook his head so quickly and fervently that you could only deduce that he was afraid to even let that idea hang in the air. Sam took a big, risky chance; without hesitation, he planted his hand on your jaw to turn your face to him, forcing you to look directly into his eyes and there was absolutely no way for you to voice what that did to you.

The wind picked up just then, graciously muffling the sounds of your voices and eliminating the risk of the kids hearing you over the rustling of debris and leaves.

“Don’t,” he half-pleaded, innocently leaning in a little closer to you so you wouldn’t miss what he was saying. “Don’t do that. I hurt you. I knew how much this job meant to you- means to you and I still risked leaving the grounds without telling you what we were risking, and that’s bad enough.” He paused, grimacing as he considered the right words. “But, then, you put out the fucking fire for me. I can just hear you talking to the director in that way that you do - diplomatic and informed, reasoning with him to spare whatever punishment I undeniably deserve.” There was a hint of a dreamy tone under the desperation and haste to get it all out and the sound of it suddenly had you struggling to choke back tears.

“Just- Please, don’t blame yourself for this to justify wanting to forgive me. I hurt you. I’d love for us to be okay but that’s not the way to do it.”

You held his stare for too long, waiting for your tongue to speak without you having to come up with the right words. When that didn’t happen, all you could do was rasp out, “Okay.”

His eyes darted back and forth between yours like he was searching for a thread - anything to give him clarity as to what that meant for the two of you, but even you didn’t know. You let him struggle for only a couple of seconds before cracking a smile that instantly softened him further.

“Okay?” he tried, hopeful despite himself.

You nodded at him, slowly reaching to brush a strip of hair from where it had fallen from the lazy bun he’d tied it into. To your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you’d thought it would when you whispered, “I forgive you.”

He froze as you watched him visibly wrestle with the choice before deciding to use his hand under your jaw to guide you to him. You held your breath, your heart racing as you realized he was probably about to kiss you, but he didn’t. He spared you the burden of having to make a split-second decision about whether or not it was appropriate for him to rush you into something so romantically intimate, and instead, he met you in the middle to lay his forehead against yours.

You could feel him preparing to say something meaningful, but the moment slipped past in silence. The two of you stayed like that for a few prolonged moments until he pulled away.

This time, looking at his face was different. It was almost as if speaking the intention to forgive him had magically pulled it into existence. Out of everything that had happened between you since your conversation in the kitchen, none of it made sense to your logical brain, but that was just another perfect bullet point for the lesson you were learning about how lawless emotions are by nature.

“So, there’s this building on the edge of my hometown,” he started, piquing your interest with his casual tone. “And you know how every town has that one decrepit place that’s famously forbidden and you’ve heard twenty different stories about it? It’s always like ‘a guy went crazy and murdered his family in that house’ or ‘a kid got lost in this old mine and they never found him’.”

You hummed an agreement, giving him a confused look that caused him to chuckle, pursing his lips to muffle it lest the two of you get too loud.

“So, in my hometown, that obligatory location is this shack-like building out in the woods. There’s so much bullshit lore that locals have tied to this place but the one thing we know is that it was a tiny church a long time ago. It hasn’t been maintained for decades - like, the wood siding is covered in moss and shit or has just degraded completely in some places. The windows are boarded over and it smells like mold inside and there’s broken glass and loose nails all over.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and he matched it, obviously finding amusement in stringing you along blindly.

“Well, that lovely place I’m describing is apparently the perfect venue for parties, but the land it’s on is owned by the city now and the city is pretty serious about keeping people away from it because it’s obviously not a structurally safe place for anyone to be, let alone a bunch of drunken young people, but there’s no real way for the city to prevent people from partying there because any amount of money spent on security would be a waste. So, I’m sure you’re wondering why they haven’t just torn the shit hole down, right?” he prompted.

Either Sam was just a great storyteller or the story itself was out of place enough to catch and hold your interest, but either way, you were invested. You took the moment to tease him by playing along and cheekily asking, “Sam, why haven’t they just torn the shit hole down?”

You weren’t expecting it, but as he smirked at your antics, he took your chin between his fingers to hold you still as he answered. “Because, next to the church, there’s a little bitty cemetery. There are two slabs left that are obviously headstones - completely unreadable - but who knows how many people are actually buried there. In order for the city to be able to clear the lot, they’d have to find records of the bodies and remove them very carefully and then there’s the issue of how the fuck they’d even locate and get in touch with the families of these people- Anyway, the city just tacks up ‘No Trespassing’ signs all over the property and nails the door shut every now and again to discourage people from snooping, but other than that, they just leave the place alone and hope that the church will decay enough that it collapses of natural causes.”

He let go of your chin somewhere in the middle of that last part of the explanation, but you could still feel the effects of being handled by him like that, making it difficult to function in the way you wanted to. You struggled to find the impressed tone that you were looking for, instead stumbling over the statement, “Wow. You know a lot about this building.”

His pink little smirk stretched into a satisfied smile as he nodded. Using an intentionally pointed tone, he sounded beyond pleased to inform you, “Well, I ought to, because I burned the place to the ground last year.”

Before you’d even decided if you’d heard him right, your fingers anxiously found your lips as your eyes widened. “Oh my god,” was all you could think to say.

He nodded, and there was a distinct lack of regret behind it.

“Why?!”

“I want to say it was all just bad luck, but that’d be a lie and, per Josh’s suggestion, I’m trying this new thing where I take responsibility for the shitty things I do,” he teased, making you breathe a laugh despite your shock. “So, a friend of a friend was having a going away party because he was joining the military. Or...maybe it was that he just got back from deployment? I can’t remember because I didn’t want to go, but I do remember thinking that it was a really bad idea from the start. Everything was really dry last summer - like we were nearing ‘drought’ territory during this period, and here these assholes were, lighting a fucking bonfire in the middle of this crispy-ass grass, surrounded by a dry forest. It was a tinderbox. Smokey the fucking bear couldn’t have come up with a better scenario for a fire-related mishap. And, I know you’re clever enough to figure out what happens next.”

You shook your head, giving him an expectant look. “I mean, obviously a fire breaks out, but was everyone okay?”

“Yeah, mostly everyone bailed. It’s the rural Midwest, so I’m sure a lot of people had hard drugs on them or in them that they didn’t want to get caught with.”

You were stunned silent for a few moments. “You were worried that I was going to find your arrest boring?”

He nodded coyly, a bit too matter-of-fact for that to be the end of it.

“Getting arrested for burning down a church is maybe the most interesting thing I can think of,” you argued, struggling to keep your voice low in your state of disbelief.

“Well, that’s because I didn’t get arrested for burning down a church,” he informed you, making your expression fall flat quickly and dramatically enough to pull a laugh that threatened on “full volume” from his lips.

“What the fuck do you mean?”

With a faux-innocent smile as your own consolation, he stated, “I got arrested a month later for driving high.”

You narrowed your eyes to stare at him accusingly. “Then what the fuck was the point of that whole long-ass story?”

“Because I told myself if you met me out here tonight, I’d tell you what I got arrested for, but getting arrested for driving high is boring, so I thought I’d lead with the most interesting story I could think of - which is 100% true, by the way.”

Yet again, you wanted to be angry with yourself for finding the whole thing charming, but before you could say a word, he added, “Plus, I’ve missed being this physically close to you and I’m, admittedly, kind of selfish so I wanted to draw this moment out as long as possible.”

Still in a state of disbelief, you sat up straight, fighting to keep a shocked smile from your lips and failing miserably. You shook your head at him disapprovingly but there wasn’t a single shred of hard feelings to grab at anymore, making his next line unnecessary.

“Remember how you used to fish so hard for information about me? Well, you got some,” he stated, smirking. “And there’s plenty more to fish for if you’d still like to keep me around- As a friend.”

He’d added the last bit as an assurance, making sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you, but you were digging your fingers into the meat of your leg to keep from touching him.

Your throat was tight, giving your voice a rasp as you told him, “I don’t wanna be your friend.”

His expression had just started slipping into a showcase of his disappointment when he realized what you were actually implying. You could feel him staring at you and how your eyes were fixed on his lips, making him sound a little desperate as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You glanced over your shoulder towards the tents, but you wanted it just as badly as him, so you didn’t have to think about it too hard when he framed your face with his hands and half-pleaded, “One kiss isn’t going to hurt anything- Please.”

You nodded at him fervently but you didn’t wait for him to make a move; instead, you just leaned in and pressed your lips to his. It was a little rough, but you weren’t complaining because the rush of serotonin through your veins felt like a wave of warm water. You chased the feeling by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and found that, somehow, that felt even better.

He didn’t show any signs of objection as you broke the kiss to hook your chin over his shoulder, feeling his nose nuzzle into the hair by your ear. You sat and soaked in the moment for a few long seconds before sitting up so you could look into his eyes.

You had to work to school your face into a serious, stern expression as you informed him, “If you ever hurt me like that again, I’m going to fuck your brother.”

Just like you were hoping for, a deeply shocked smile found his lips, but before he could make any kind of quip, you added some comedic relief by clarifying, “Not Josh - the other one. Josh 2.”

A hand flew up to catch a sharp laugh as it fell out of his mouth. “Jake, but okay. I guess that’s fair,” he informed you in the fondest tone.

“Damn right,” you agreed and then stood, holding your hand out to pull him up too. “Well, Samuel, this was a shockingly pleasant way to kill half an hour or so, but we should get to bed.”

He offered you only a smile in allowance, but you pulled him into another hug when you reached the tents that he returned in a way that you could only describe as grateful, but you’d only hugged him so you could press your lips to his ear. “Find me again when the kids are gone this weekend,” you instructed and felt his fingers flex against your back in a very uncontrolled way.

You placed a kiss against his cheek that you could only assume he found frustratingly chaste and then slipped into your tent.

❀❀❀

You arrived to dinner before Josh the next evening, giving you plenty of time to think. As your eyes scanned over the bustling dining hall and saw how many of the campers had formed their own groups, leaving their counselors to eat with their coworkers, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of the realization that it was almost over. In just a couple of weeks, you’d have to start looking for a different job - one that could never, ever compare.

You tried to push the feeling down, lest your eyes start to water in such a public place.

Luckily, you weren’t alone for too much longer; just a moment later, Josh opened the doors for his kids and ushered them all in with a sweet smile, pointing them towards the food line despite them having gotten the routine down a week and a half ago. His boys scattered to sit in their own little clusters but Josh could always be counted on to take the seat across from you.

“So, how was the camping trip?” he asked, and something behind his chipper tone told you he was somehow more informed than he ought to be.

You offered him a fond smile and shook your head. “It sounds like you already know how it went,” you replied before popping a slice of an orange into your mouth.

“I have a hunch,” he allowed cheekily.

“How? How do you seem to know everything before I do?”

He shrugged, though he looked proud despite his casual response. “A couple of reasons. One - neither of you are as difficult to read as you think you are. And, two - Sam asked for my advice on the subject.”

“Oh?” you pressed, eliciting a nod of his head.

“Well, I guess I kind of forced my advice on him, actually,” A grin spread across his lips and he split his dinner roll to butter it. “If I didn’t practically kick his butt after your fight, I’m not sure he would have made any moves to fix it. Not that he didn’t want to,” he quickly added. “I just know that, when he fucks up socially, he tends to remove himself from the equation so he can’t make it worse.”

“Or, perhaps because he’s too ashamed to confront it,” you suggested, trying to sound flat but accidentally letting a scolding fondness taint the words.

“Sure,” Josh agreed, endearingly struggling to get the little packet of butter open. “I have no doubt that was part of it. All I’m saying is, I know he wanted to make it better - he just didn’t know how, so I gave him a...let’s say ‘gentle nudge’.”

You breathed a laugh. “Well, thank you. And, yes, things feel better,” you agreed, after a moment, adding, “I missed him a lot.”

A smile, maybe too pleased for someone mostly unaffected by the situation, spread across his lips.

When Sam walked in just a minute later, all his kids in tow, he met your eyes for only a second before helping his boys through the line, leaving you in your infatuation over what a good counselor he’d become over the last few weeks. He sat across from you, next to Josh, and you were relieved to find that it instantly felt comfortable, thanks to Josh’s flawless sense for directing conversation.

The special activity for that cycle ended up being a hike out to a special location on the campgrounds that you’d always loved as a child, called Blueberry Bog. It was a glacially-formed kettle bog; the water was covered in soft, vibrant green moss that acted almost like a trampoline. The kids were pretty underwhelmed until they were informed that they didn’t have to stay on the wooden boardwalk - that they could go out onto the moss and explore. You watched with the kind of satisfaction you’d imagine a parent would have, listening to the kids squeal as their feet squished into the plush surface.

The following day was supposed to bring rain, and it didn’t disappoint in that regard. When you’d woken up to your alarm, you could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, and when you’d gotten out to the main room of your cabin, a few of the girls were already at the windows, watching the lightning streak across the sky. You’d all raced down to the dining hall with your coats over your heads to keep as dry as you could, and after breakfast, that was where their parents came to pick them up. The “goodbyes” were getting harder and harder, and this time you had to take deep breaths in between children to prevent yourself from crying.

All of Sam’s campers were gone before the final stragglers of your group had been picked up, so you met his eyes across the room to share a look that he’d accurately interpreted as an invitation.

He showed up at your cabin just a few minutes after you’d gotten back with a softness behind his eyes as you opened the door for him.

You leaned against the doorframe, blocking his way in so you could playfully inquire, “Would you like to come inside?”

He nodded, breathing a curious laugh.

You hummed in consideration, smirking along with him as he realized that you were intentionally keeping him out in the rain. “Ask nicely.”

He appeared to chew it over before smugly declaring, “No.” Sam placed his hand in the center of your chest and guided you out of the way with ease, despite your efforts to anchor yourself in place with shocked giggles spilling from your mouth.

“You’d think you’d be doing whatever you possibly could to win me over again,” you scoffed teasingly, crossing your arms over your chest as a statement.

He shut the door behind him and wrapped his hands around your biceps so he could move you, yet again. When he had your back against the door, he was wearing a fond expression to note, “I suspect I already have.”

You’d been intending to take the joke further - to play along for as long as he’d allow - but you couldn’t seem to find the drive after that. The ache in your chest reminded you just how much you missed interacting with him like this again. As awful as the admission was, you were suddenly aware of just how different your summer would have been without him - borderline boring, if you had to guess.

You cupped his jaw in your hands, your voice cracking a little as you admitted, “You never really lost me.”

As easy as it would have been for him to kiss you then - to lead you into a sexual tryst - instead, he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours like he had at the campsite.

You let the softness of the moment settle over you as you matched his breathing. The silence remained until you broke it, in the most cautious way you could manage.

“Sam, what’s going to happen when the summer’s over?”

He withdrew just enough that he could see your face as a pensive expression masked his features.

“I’m not sure.”

Your stomach sank just a little. You tried again, “In the kitchen, you said that you wanted me to take you with me.”

While he pressed the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed into a troubled look. “I want to keep seeing you - of course. I just haven’t worked out the details yet.”

As unsatisfying as that answer was, you knew it was as much as he could offer you at that moment, so you let him know there were no hard feelings by pecking a kiss on his thumb.

“Well, no need to try and sort it all out right now.” You looked him up and down, putting on a little smirk as you suggested, “I think we have some catching up to do, Sam.”

The breath he let out held a surprising amount of relief - like he’d been waiting for your cue. Without wasting a second, he gripped your waist, spinning you around and pointing you towards your bedroom door with a nod of his chin. You huffed a laugh, reaching to thread your fingers through his so you could lead him, but he pulled his hand away before you could.

He only let you feel the sting of rejection for a split second before he was wrapping his arms around your chest from behind, playfully lifting you, mid-step. The surprise of it drew a pitchy squeal from your grinning lips, but he never pulled you fully off your feet. The gesture was simply meant to be a teasing prompt to rush you along, though you had a suspicion that he was only half-joking.

You’d thought he’d want you on the bed immediately, but you’d barely made it into your room before you felt him anchor you in place. The heat from his mouth as he pressed his lips into the crook of your neck made you physically melt, relying on him to help hold your weight as you leaned back against him.

You reached over your shoulder to wind your fingers in his hair, deciding then that he must have washed it earlier that morning, as you were able to rake through the silky strands with ease. He let out a soft, absent hum that vibrated against your neck as you gently scratched your nails over his scalp.

The edges of his teeth dragging over your delicate, thin skin made you shiver as goosebumps rose down your arms. His fingers were slipping around your body, dipping under the hem of your shirt to tease along your navel, which only worsened your sensitivity.

You didn’t want to pull away from him, but you wanted to see his face. You used to see his angular features as intimidating, but you’d gotten lucky - lucky enough to have seen the truly soft side of him. Looking into his eyes used to leave you feeling utterly insignificant, but you could feel your chest swell hopelessly at the depth behind them now; even in the dim, cool light of the grey sky filtering in through your bedroom window, there was a warmth. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt the spark in your chest as if you were experiencing it for the first time, all over again.

Facing him now, you pressed your body flush to his, planting your hands on his chest as your fingers grasped at his shirt. You realized that being able to feel his body heat - his skin on yours - felt right. Like a muscle memory.

He directed you to sit on the edge of the bed and then bent at the waist to kiss you. You were distracted enough by his tongue swiping out across your bottom lip that you didn’t realize he was sinking to his knees until you felt his hand on your stomach, gently pushing you back.

You were going to give him a questioning look until you felt his fingers unsnapping the button on your pants. It was setting in, what was about to happen, and you had to take a few deep, controlled breaths to try to still your pounding heart as he slid your panties down.

His fingers almost felt cool when he stroked them over your skin, using a gentle, mindful touch. He gave you plenty of time to get comfortable, directing your focus on where his lips connected with your thigh. You could feel the pleasant burn when he sucked the muscle into his mouth, no doubt intending to leave you with a fuschia-pink bloom to remember this moment by.

After seemingly avoiding the area up until then, it was the pointed tip of his nose brushing against your clit that made you gasp. Your fingers twisted into the duvet as his considered dipping into you, just barely sliding in to the first knuckle as a tease before withdrawing.

Sam’s tongue was hot as he ran the flat of it over your skin, slow and languid like a dance. He opted to not use much pressure at first, but instead, letting it build with each lap over your clit.

Your teeth were sunken into your bottom lip, mindlessly rolling it between your bite until it was tender. A dreamy hum or two escaped you as you pictured the scene behind your eyelids, but when you decided that wasn’t enough, you sat up, propping yourself on your elbows to take it all in.

He looked lovely with his face buried between your thighs and when he saw you watching him, he met your eyes, planting his hands on the small of your waist to keep you in place.

Despite the obscenity of the situation, he looked so soft and sweet that you didn’t think twice before reaching to tuck a strip of his hair behind his ear. To your surprise, he careened into the touch absently, pulling his mouth from your pussy so he could press a chaste kiss to the meat of your thumb.

Before you could retract it, the fingers of his left hand wrapped around your wrist as he sucked your thumb into his mouth, and the fingers of his right hand finally slipped into you to the hilt. A tide of warmth spread through your abdomen as he worked the digits into you to the hilt, but you had to suck in a sharp gasp when his tongue flicked over your clit again. It felt like an electric shock that had your eyes squeezing shut, so you couldn’t protest when he coaxed you into laying back again.

You wound your grip into his hair, trying to remain mindful of being too rough, but you couldn’t quite reach the thought. You knew you were tugging too harshly on the strands as he seemed to decide to draw you to the edge, but you couldn’t care, because you were peering over it in a matter of minutes.

You were entirely lost in the sensation; it was all-consuming as it dragged you down into it. The resulting orgasm had you panting as you rode it out, barely conscious of your hips moving to grind yourself against Sam’s tongue.

At the end of it, all of your muscles untensed at once, allowing you to let go of Sam’s hair as you sunk back into the mattress from your rigid position.

A content hum slipped from Sam’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot on your thigh he’d been bothering earlier, and you could tell by the warmth of the sound that he was smiling proudly.

He didn’t let you say anything as he guided you further up the bed, which was good, because you weren’t sure you could form an intelligent sentence - at least, not for a couple of minutes.

He stripped down, not spending a lot of time on the show of it until he realized you were watching him. Once he had your eyes, he stroked over himself a couple of times for you.

As he settled over you, he helped you sit up enough that he could slip your shirt off, leaving you both entirely unclothed. A warmth spread over your face when you realized you could taste yourself on his tongue, but he effectively erased the thought from your mind by parting your legs and slipped himself in between them.

Your lips were connected in a kiss, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into each other’s mouths as he slid in. He had clearly been intending to take it slow and let you adjust, but he couldn’t seem to help himself from instantly falling into a rhythm with his little rocking motion. Luckily, you were more than ready.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down onto you, feeling almost cozy under the weight of him. The heat of his body perfectly mirrored the warm feeling you were left with as he slid in and out of you. You tried to bury your sounds into the crook of his neck, but you knew he could hear them perfectly, even over the sound of the relentless rain and the occasional rolling thunder outside.

Over your head, his arm reached to anchor himself on the edge of your headboard, giving him more leverage to work his hips against yours without having to pull away from you much. Without your conscious permission, your teeth nipped into the skin of his bicep, spurring him into a rougher motion that you instantly fell in love with.

The sound of his breathing, quick and labored, made your eyes roll back into their sockets. You could tell he was getting closer to his end as his movements became less controlled, and even as present as you were in the moment, you took the opportunity to recognize how lucky you were to get him like this - so unguarded and raw.

His eyes were squeezed shut, letting out an almost pained little whimper as he came and you could feel the shudder through his whole body. You cupped his face, thumbing over his cheekbone and enjoying the blissfully peaceful moment as he grounded himself again. Once he was conscious enough, he rested his forehead against yours, sweetly nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I missed you,” he whispered under his breath. There was a vulnerability to the admission - just by the tone of it, you knew it was one of the most honest things he’d said to you thus far.

“I’m right here,” you stated in return.

❀❀❀

The next two weeks were unspeakably pleasant.

You realized that, for the first time since the beginning of the summer, interacting with Sam was truly easy. As much as you’d love to say it felt like there had never been any bad blood between you and him in the first place, that wasn’t quite true; you could feel the scar tissue of a wound fully healed, but that made it even more satisfying, knowing that you’d worked through it together.

On the last day of the last cycle, you were proud to admit that you made it through the process of parting with your campers, completely tear-free, even though you caught Josh getting a little watery-eyed with every crouched hug he gave.

After the campers were gone for the year, the counselors got to stay on the grounds for the remaining two days of the weekend, with the promise of a celebration that Saturday evening. Not everyone stayed - there were some counselors that saw more value in getting home, and you couldn’t blame them, but you were desperate to milk this experience for all it was worth. After all, even though you’d have to be dead before you’d miss doing this again the following year, you’d never be a first time counselor again.

You and all the other counselors were informed that there would be fireworks after sundown, and you were free to go wherever you’d like on the grounds to watch, but Josh was quick to inform you that he already had the perfect spot.

He led you and Sam on quite the hike that afternoon, and even though there was a vague trail to follow, it was clear people didn’t take it very often.

As a branch of thorns grabbed onto your bare leg, you let out a hissing curse and then annoyedly asked, “Josh, where the fuck are we even going? There’s absolutely no way this spot is worth it right? I’m sure we could have seen perfectly fine from the beach.”

He snickered, glancing back over his shoulder to remind you, “I told you to prepare for a little hike.”

“This is not a ‘little hike’, you jackass,” Sam muttered, cautiously side-stepping a sharp-looking branch.

“You’re bitching now, but I promise it’ll be worth it,” Josh quipped back, completely unbothered, if the grin he was wearing was anything to judge by.

“Oh, yeah? Then why did Ashley opt out of this trip?” you challenged.

“Ah, because in the midst of the drama between you two,” Josh started, pausing to gesture to you and Sam. “You missed her whole story arc. I think she’s kinda been seeing a guy from Birch.”

You tried not to sound too disbelieving as you asked, “Really? Because I honestly thought you’d end up hooking up with her?”

Josh snorted, flashing his white teeth. “Absolutely not. Unlike the rest of you, I know how to keep things professional.”

Either not buying his story or not willing to let the dig slide, Sam snarkily retorted, “Don’t worry, Josh - I’m sure you’ll get one next year.”

The sun was mid-way through setting when you finally reached your destination. You’d been able to tell you were hiking at an incline on the way up, but you weren’t expecting for the woods to open up and show you a view of the grounds from one of the surrounding bluffs.

The entire perimeter of the lake was visible to you, completely unobscured. Seeing your favorite place on earth spread out for you on a platter like that almost choked you up until you felt Sam’s hand on your lower back, giving you a knowing smile when you met his eyes.

“Okay, Josh. I’m not too proud to admit when I’m wrong. This is a primo spot,” you surrendered, prompting him to beam at you proudly as he pulled a folded blanket from his backpack to spread out over the grass.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Yeah, except I think you’re both forgetting that we’ll have to navigate our way back down in the dark,” Sam informed you smugly, but Josh just waved him off.

“Let’s worry about that when we get to it.”

The three of you got comfy on the blanket, settling into each other in a little bundle as you prepared for the show.

“So, when are you coming to visit?” Josh asked you, and your confused little smile caused him to elaborate. “I mean, I just assumed you’d be coming to stay with us for a while, right?”

You and Sam shared a blank look before you admitted, “I honestly hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be able to go off to school for the fall semester,” Sam half-agreed, sounding like he was weighing the idea in his head.

“I’m sure you’ll get there next year,” Josh assured without concern. He finished with a sly grin, “Y’know, assuming you can change your hardcore criminal ways and not land yourself in jail.” He met your eyes and teasingly informed you, “Did you know that Sam was arrested for trafficking exotic animals? When the FBI caught him, he was trying to smuggle a pangolin across the border.”

“Oh, wow, dreamy,” you quipped, playing along as Sam lovingly rolled his eyes.

“I already told her all about it.”

Josh hummed, looking pleased with the development. “I figured, but I had to try.”

After a comfortable pause, he put on a playful grin and asked, “So, Sam. Think you’ll come back next year?”

Sam looked like he wanted to say no, if not just for the principal. You could only imagine that they’d had this conversation a few times before, and Sam had given him a firm declination, but there was a hint of a smile to Sam’s tilted lips now as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tilting you towards him until you laid your head on his shoulder.

“We’ll see,” he replied, pulling a contented hum from his brother’s upturned mouth.

There was a certain kind of peace you’d come to know when you were a camper at Forest Springs - the kind of happiness you can only get from the bliss of a responsibility-free childhood. Those two weeks in the summer always simultaneously felt like they went on for months and flew by in a single breath. You couldn’t put a price on the freedom to do whatever your little heart desired and the comfort of knowing you were safe and sound under the care of an adult. To say you missed that feeling would be a criminally-steep understatement. You ached for it.

Somewhere, deep, deep inside, you had come back to Camp Forest Springs this summer in hopes of feeling it again, but you were wise enough to know that no matter how badly you wanted it back, that time in your life had passed, and that was truly okay.

Instead, you’d get to pack up and end your first year as a counselor with three different prizes - a love, a new best friend, and the knowledge that you’d been able to gift that same feeling to your campers.

That was more than enough.

_____________ I just wanted to say a whole-hearted thank you to everyone that stuck with me through this story. It was a big challenge to write believable pacing and dialog, but I’m proud of us for sticking it out to the end!

As always, your comments, tweets, replies, and asks mean the world, but if you feel like you’d like to show your appreciation in an even more meaningful way, you could always buy me a coffee <3

Thanks again, Alana

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#pink lemonade #sam kiszka fan fiction #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka fic

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