#remove tab bar

[voidimp]

i love when apps suck and are bad

[thribby]

If youtube is getting past ublock origin and demanding that you turn off your adblocker, here is a solution from reddit which worked for me: https://old.reddit.com/r/uBlockOrigin/comments/1hir4z6/youtube_filtering_again/m30vhjh/ After you uncheck the "ublock filters - quickfixes" box, make sure to also click "apply changes."

if you recheck the "ublock filters - quickfixes" box and click "apply changes," youtube will be able to detect the adblocker again, so i guess for now don't do that.

Edit from one day later:

They removed the comment, here are the steps they gave: 1. Open uBlock Origin's settings. I click on the shield to the right of the url bar and then on the gear icon in the popup menu to get there.

2. Go to the "Filter lists" tab of the settings page. Not "My filters."

3. Find where it says "Built-in," underneath that it should say " "uBlock filters" with a number out of five. Next to that "x/5," there should be an arrow either facing to the right or downwards. If it's facing to the right, click it so it faces downwards and expands the list of Built-in filters.

4. In that list, you will find "uBlock filters - Quick fixes." Uncheck the box to the left of these words. When the box is unchecked, click "Apply changes" at the top of the page. Refresh any pages where youtube was whining about your adblocker, hopefully the message is gone and you're able to watch without any ads.

Yesterday when I first posted this, reactivating the quickfixes allowed youtube to detect the adblocker, but as of today it looks like they've updated the quick fixes so that you don't need to deactivate them to avoid youtube's detection. So, instead of deactivating and reactivating the quick fixes, you can probably just manually update them by clicking the clock icon to the right of where it says "quick fixes"

[moon-fics]

Pepper Spray Lovers

Pairings: Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: You're a well-known bartender at the Hard Deck and friends with most of the pilots who enter through the doors. However, you've caught the eye of one specific weapon systems operator.

A/n: I'm going to need a break after this one. Holy shit.

It was the same every night for you. Serve drinks, clean cups, chat with pilots, and never give out your number. It was a loop that you found comforting and easy to follow. At the Hard Deck, there was a guaranteed safety with the amount of trained pilots around.

You never have to memorize names because the call signs they have are way too ridiculous to forget. They stand out, and based on their personality, you can match them easily. For Hangman, you chalk it up to him always talking to a woman at the bar, but never taking her home. For Rooster, it's because his mustache sometimes looks like a beak to a bird.

You treat each customer the same and smile when they order. You highly doubt any of them know your name, but why should they? You serve them drinks, and they pay their tab. That's all you need or want from them.

"Can I get a water?" A soft voice asks from behind you. You're cleaning a pile of cups while Penny takes orders. You aren't supposed to be bothered, but you assume Penny is busy. You can fetch some water and return back to your cleaning.

Without even looking at the person who ordered, you grab a clean cup and fill it with water from the water dispenser. You spin around and place the cup on the bar top. You only look up for a second but you immediately stop on him.

It's his smile that catches you off guard. It's almost silly how adorable a Top Gun pilot can look by just smiling. His hair is gelled back neatly, and his glasses are a little lower than where they should be.

"Thank you," He nods while taking the glass. His fingers graze yours, and you realize you're still holding the cup. Your hand flinches away automatically. "Busy night?"

You force yourself to speak because you cannot just stare at him. "Yeah, it's definitely busier than usual," You say while clearing your throat. He nods and takes a sip of his water. "There must be something huge happening for so many Top Gun pilots to be here." You glance around the room to see it practically filled with people wearing navy uniforms.

"I'd tell you if I could," He chuckles. "I'm Bob," He holds out his free hand to shake. You gladly take it, and there's a shiver that goes up your spine at how nice his arms look. Before you can respond, someone is calling him over. He gives a little wave as he parts from you.

Throughout the night, you catch him staring at you. Usually, you'd find it creepy or enough to cut him off, so he leaves. Instead, you try to catch him. It gives you some enjoyment to watch when he nervously looks away after getting caught. After a while, he understands the game and begins playing along.

--

It's closing time, and by now, everyone has left, including Penny. The beach waves are all you hear as you check the register and count the cash left over. There's still a smell of alcohol in the air, but it's mixed with salt and sunscreen.

After shutting the register and turning off the lights, you lock the doors. Right as you pull the key out, you hear rustling. No one should be out this late on base. So, either you have a wild animal nearby or someone is stalking you. Either way, it could mean trouble.

Silently and slowly, you reach for your pepper spray. You unlock the safety feature and press your thumb over the top of it. The rustling gets louder, and your body trembles from anxiety.

"Do you need someone to walk you to your car?" A familiar voice rings from behind you. On instinct, you swing around and aim the spray at them. "Hey, hey, wait!" The person yells while putting their hands up in surrender.

Your eyes adjust to the darkness to see Bob standing in front of you. You don't put the pepper spray down, but you remove your thumb from it.

"What are you doing? That was so scary!" You scold. One corner of his lips turns up in a half smile that is still charming.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home alright," He explains. He lowers his hands and puts one in his pocket. He looks concerned that you're going to spray him anyway, but you decide not to. "It's late, and I know that sometimes it can be dangerous on base." He mumbles.

"So, you waited out here for me to close up? It's been like an hour since I saw you leave the bar." You raise an eyebrow. There's no way he waited that long for you.

"I waited," He admits with a nod. You suck in your cheeks at how honest he is. It's refreshing but also a bit odd. "Sorry that I scared you. I thought you heard me walking up to you." He chuckles to himself.

"It's alright. Just, next time, announce yourself or maybe wear a bell." You smile.

He pushes his glasses up his nose, "I'll think about tying a bell around my belt next time."

"Next time?" You tease. You aren't sure what he means by it, because it could simply be a joke. You don't know if he'll be back at the bar because sometimes people show up once and never return.

He seems caught off guard by your repeating his words. "I mean, it's a popular bar. It's the best one on base, so I just assumed I'd come back," He clarifies while scratching at the top of his lip nervously.

"Would you walk me to my car every time?" His eyes practically twinkle at your question. As if your offer has brought a genuine joy inside him. "You did say it's dangerous on base at night."

"I'll walk you to your car as many times as you'd allow."

It takes longer than you expect to get home. Mostly because you're enchanted into a conversation with Bob way past curfew. Once you walk through your door, you get a sense of excitement for your next shift.

--

The music is loud, and so are the pilots. After a long day of training and sweating their asses off they've returned to the bar. Not that you mind anymore.

You get to continue your favorite game with Bob as he plays pool. Every time he makes a shot, he looks for you to see if you saw. When he gets a ball in one of the pockets, he waves. When he scratches, he talks to you until his turn again.

This continues until the end of the night, until he walks you to your car.

[starfilmz]

FEMININE URGE | a rafe cameron fic.

— when a pogue takes a liking towards a certain kook. named it “feminine urge” because everything she’ll do here comes from that.

a/n: no update for thoroughfare and famous!rafe today so here’s something. half text half smau which is actually pretty fun to do. (not proofread)

01 | 02 | 03

you couldn’t help but giggle at sarah’s reply on your tweet but chose to close your phone as you placed it inside the pockets of your apron. as much as you hated to admit it, jj was right. adding topper to your private instagram was a bad decision, and you’ve already removed him after seeing his comment on your latest post—though you couldn’t really blame him; if it were any of your friends who said it, you would’ve accepted.

topper was a nice guy; at least you assumed he was after he gave you a fifty dollar tip last week, but you weren’t shocked when he used it as some sort of leverage to get your socials. he had his chance, and he blew it up, so it’s his own fault.

you hummed as you cleaned the sticky countertop of the bar you’re working at. you're one of the few bartenders left in the place, the last one’s desperate to stay anyway. Sip N’ Dine paid well, which is why you chose to take the job, but you weren’t aware at the time the whole reason for their generosity was because kooks like topper and his friends raided the place almost every party they host. you met topper at one of his, another reason why you complied on his request to get to know you.

the night was still young, but luckily for you and the rest of your coworkers, no kooks seemed to have any interest in partying tonight. so, you took your sweet time organizing everything around you, unaware of the new presence behind your counter.

it was only when you heard a knock against it did you turn around. you almost tripped on your own two feet when you saw who it was.

“open a tab for me, will you?” rafe cameron said, sliding the card against the table, keeping his eyes on you—specifically your slightly unbuttoned uniform, revealing the layers of necklaces you wore. and maybe a bit of your tits.

with a swallow of nothing, you gave him your usual costume service smile as you went up to your station. “alright, what can i start you with?” you asked as you grabbed for his card, keeping it under the counter in a shelf where most of the cards are kept.

“your name would be nice, just so i know who to call,” he smiled, though it was closer to a smirk as it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes.

looks like someone had a bad day.

“most people call me ‘bartender’ since, y’know, i’m the only one here,” you glanced around between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at him. was this your attempt at flirting? yes, unfortunately. “but if you’re dying to know, my name’s y/n.”

“was i that obvious?” rafe replied with the same tone, and you might just throw yourself at him if you didn’t have an ounce of shame left in your body. “alright, y/n, i’ll have a miller lite first.”

“starting of easy, i see,” you commented almost instinctively, as it was encouraged by your boss to ‘challenge’ your customers so they’d buy more. “one miller lite, comin’ right up.”

you grabbed a pint glass from behind you, as well as one of your many miller lites on the shelves, placing it down in front of rafe as you poured the alcoholic drink in.

“holler if you need anything else.” you thought it was best to keep your distance before it became too obvious how nervous you were from his piercing gaze. you took this opportunity to entertain under customers arriving.

a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dealing with a bunch of drunks trying to take you home, though they weren’t the ones making you uncomfortable.

rafe, from the time he arrived, only called for you to refill his cup. nothing more, nothing less. you also know whenever someone’s staring at you from a mile away, so it wasn’t hard to realize rafe’s still on you this whole time.

“y/n?” he called, holding on to the bottom of his empty pint glass. just as you served two more shots for a customer, you went back to him with a smile, already grabbing for the miller lite.

“you don’t have to get that,” he said from behind you, making you turn around as he took a deep breath. “i’m closing my tab.”

“right, okay,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed his card. “enjoyed your beer?”

you wondered why you even attempted to make casual conversation as you swiped his card, but it was rafe cameron for fuck’s sake. you were creeped out by his constant staring, sure, but you couldn’t help but like the attention he’s giving you.

“i did, thank you,” he hummed as you handed his card back to him, your hands brushing against his calloused ones. “it helped me while i think of why topper, the loudest guy i know, would swear to secrecy just for a pogue.”

you physically froze as he smirked at you, standing up from his seat. “honestly, i was a bit weirded out by the comments, but now that i’m looking at you,” he tiled his head, scoffing out a grin. “maybe i’ll make an exception.”

with that, he left, leaving one hundred dollars under his glass.

“oh, shit.”

[chrisisvbun]

three soldiers. 40s!steve rogers & 40s!bucky barnes x chubby!fem reader x origins!logan howlett.

synopsis: steve, bucky and logan, three soldiers that were hanging out in a bar, lay eyes on a beautiful woman that seems to be their type, and instead of fighting for whoever will have you, they solve things like mature men they are: having a foursome.

cw: foursome, triple penetration (jeez gurl) sweet steve, rough bucky and logan, slight bi!logan, mentions of gay sex, anal, unprotected piv, crempie, oral (both m and f), dom!logan, dom!bucky, dom!steve (mentions of sub Steve tho), chubby reader, slight mention of insecurities, fluff, aftercare.

words: 4k (I'm sorry.)

a ten nsfw chapter series masterlist.

Bucky and Steve's drinks were already empty by the time Logan approached to hang out.

The three of them were soldiers, they shared experiences, people they met, women they slept with, and they found out they shared a taste: plump, chubby women. A girl with flesh to grab, grip, bite. Extra flesh was amazing for the three of them, anywhere in the female (or male) body: tummy, hips, thighs, arms, cheeks, breasts, ass, everything was welcome.

And it's just their luck that you walk in. A gorgeous plump woman, with chubby rolls, fat thighs, broad hips, soft skin, and gorgeous cheeks that made your under eyes wrinkle when you smiled.

As you walked in, the three of them follow your body with their eyes, and where they place their eyes betray them in what they are attracted too. Bucky's eyes were staring al your fat, big thighs, and how you squeeze them together. Steve, ashamed of himself for looking at you so bluntly, was looking straight at your breasts, the cut of your dress showing how big and soft they are. And Logan, Logan was enamored with that tummy of yours, those rolls that press and show in your fat body so beautifully, in such a precious way that had him drooling. He wanted it even fatter with his baby there, but that's just the animalistic instinct talking.

So they had a bit of a chat, trying to figure out which of them was going to approach, and finally, they decided that, why not the three of them? If you backed off, the one that had more chemistry with you could try by himself.

"Hi there." Bucky smirked at you, leaning against the counter with Steve by his side and Logan from behind.

"Add what she has to my tab." Logan said, his eyes still looking down at you while he passed his card to the bartender.

"Are you all by yourself here?" Bucky said again.

"Uhm, yeah..." You said, shyly, which made the three men smirk.

"Lookin' too cute to be by yourself." Logan said from behind you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You blushed, you eyes glancing at the three men.

"Guys, we are intimidating her." Steve spoke up, and offered you his hand. You grabbed it shyly, and he kissed your knuckles. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"Bucky Barnes." Bucky gave a tiny bow, removing his hat.

"And that's Logan." Steve nodded at the mentioned, who was still enamored with your figure and your hair.

"Hi." He smiled at you, and his grin widened when you smiled back.

"So, doll, you sure you are alone here? No other men?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms.

You smiled. "Just the three of you."

"Three is a lot, isn't it?" Steve said, smirking at you while his eyes moved all over your body.

"it's not that big a number." You said, starting to get the situation.

"Really? Think you can take three?" Logan's voice was almost in your ear, his hand moved to your broad waist, squeezing it and making you gasp.

"M-maybe... I-" You swallowed, your eyes moving between the three of them. "I won't know until I try."

(...)

Logan said that his apartment was a good place, and it definetly was, he said he had the biggest bed, and the biggest mirror that covered the wall next to the bed.

And during the car ride, Logan was driving with Steve next to him, and Bucky already worked up, all over you. His hands gripped your thighs, kissing your cheek, your neck, your chest, while mumbling sweet praises. "So pretty, so soft..."

You gasped when he sat you on his lap, his hands gripping your ass like his hands where made to be there, and making out with you. His tongue was about to get all hungry inside of your mouth, until he had a taste of your sweet lips, automatically melting on your kiss. Your hands grabbed fists of his brunette hair, Bucky's hands moving under your dress to squeeze the flesh of you backside.

"Love birds." Logan called, you removed your lips from his, your lipstick over Bucky's lips and surroundings, and of course, all over your too. "We are here."

Before you could climb off his lap, Bucky lifted you easily in his broad arm, and like that, he removed all the insecurities you had about your weight, because he closed the door with one arm, while the other was under your thighs.

"Comfortable?" Steve smiled sweetly to you, and almost like he could read your mind, he kissed your sweetly while being held by Bucky. "You are beautiful, my God." He smiled between kisses, and allowing himself to move a hand to one of your big breasts. He moaned and pulled away. "Logan, be quick."

"Relax, pretty boys." Logan opened his apartment door, pushing it open to let the three of you in. "Uh-uh-uh." He stopped Bucky. "My turn."

Bucky rolled his eyes and let you stand on the floor. Before you could miss the touch of Steve and Bucky, Logan's hands were all over you from behind, gripping your waist, your breasts, your thighs, your stomach, while grunting on your ear.

"You are not that innocent, aren'tcha?" He said and kissed the shell of your ear, both of you watching Steve and Bucky removed his jackets and belts. "Takin' three men, three soldiers, you are charming, you are beautiful, this isn't your first rodeo, isn't it?"

You giggled a bit, caressing his big arms. "It isn't, but I never had three." You said, blushing. Logan chuckled, kissing your cheek.

"So sweet, I want to binge on you." He groaned and he began to trail open-mouth kisses over your neck, holding your hair behind. "Boys, let's get the princess ready."

(...)

Logan wasn't lying when he described his bedroom, he was totally right.

You were making out with Steve, he laying between your legs and holding your back to have stability. Bucky was already shirtless, Logan was watching Steve and you making out, on his white tank top and smoking a cigar.

"Steve, let the girl breath." Logan puffed out the smoke.

"Yeah, we are supposed to share." Bucky teased, lying between where Logan was sitting and where you were lying with Steve.

Bucky's hand cupped the back of your neck to kiss you, your hand went to his chest while Steve began to kiss your neck.

The differences between the best friends were clear. Steve was sweet and gentle, his bites and kisses were like cuddles in your skin, while Bucky was rough and desperate, his teeth sank on you lips and neck, trying to make you bleed, everything under Logan's gaze.

Steve's sweet hands pulled off the sleeves of your dress, kissing your shoulders and all the new skin exposed. Bucky hooked a finger on Steve's shirt.

"Take this off, man." He said as he pulled him away from your skin to be the one kissing it.

Steve rolled his eyes and removed his shirt. "You are not joining, Logan?" Steve said.

Logan checked him out a second and smirked. "I'm good watching you three for now, pretty boy, don't worry 'bout me." He winked at him, taking another drag of his cigar.

Steve chuckled, a slight blush on his cheeks. He moved to you again, pulling your dress down to leave you in your white bra and lacy blue underwear.

"Wanna get down?" Now, Steve had pulled Bucky's hair, and consequently, Bucky was removed from your skin.

His bright blue eyes moved to you, looking for your agreement. When you nodded eagerly, he smirked, and quickly began to pull down your panties and get between your legs.

You looked down at him, breathing heavily as he began to lick your slit, his warm tongue on your most sensitive part. You moaned, and your hand moved to press him more against you, a sign that allowed him to begin devouring your cunt.

Your whimpers were silenced but a pair of lips, that tasted like smoke and mint. You quickly recognize Logan's cologne, your hand moved to his hair too, kissing him hungrily while moaning against his lips.

Steve, of course, didn't want to be the four-wheel, so he unhooked your bra. His eyes brightened at the sight of your big breasts, and he started to kiss them both, squeezing them in his broad palms. He moaned against your flesh like he had never seen a pair of tits in his life.

You were overstimulated by this point. If you had to choose, Logan was the best kisser: sweet and rough at the same time, he had that cocky smirk that slipped between kisses every time you moaned. Bucky ate your cunt like it was his favorite meal: messy and hungry, his tongue lapped in your clit and when you started to get used to that, we would fuck you with his tongue, his warm muscle in and out of your tight entrance. And Steve, that sweet mother fucker was worshiping your body like you were a goddess, his hands gripped your flesh, not wanting to let you go ever. And even with his sweet nature, he covered your tits with hickeys and bite marks, he sucked your nipples and pinched them violently.

Bucky's tongue was having his wet dream coming true. A wet, fat cunt like yours, with such a sweet taste, such a responsive body with it. His head was squeezed against your thighs just like he wanted, like he had dreamt the second he layed eyes on you.

"Gonna take turns or is your friend gonna eat her out until we get tired?" Logan asked, obviously rhetorically.

"From my point of view, he looks like he is more into the second one." Steve said, his breathing ragged as he looked down at Bucky, his head squeezed in your big thighs. That mother fucker was having his fantasy coming true.

Logan rolled his eyes but his harsh look softened when he found your face: a pleasure pout, puffy red face, lips parted, heavy breath, and your little whimpers.

"Looks like Bucky is getting the first orgasm of the night." Logan teased.

"Fi-first?" You asked, whiny.

"What? You thought you would have only one orgasm with three men?" Logan raised his eyebrows in a chuckle. "Darlin', you are gonna walk out of here dry, if you can walk once we are done with you."

"What Logan means is that we have a lot of stamina on us, we are gonna take great care of you." Steve said, as he kissed your shoulder gently.

You squeaked when you felt the intrusion of Bucky's fingers inside of you, he smirked up at you as he rubbed your clit with his rough thumb, his face glistering with your slick. "C'mon, doll, lemme have the first." He said while kissing your thigh.

The knot in your tummy snapped in the second he pressed the tip of his fingers in your spongy spot, wetting the blankets under you and Bucky's hand.

"That's it, veery good." Logan soothed you, caressing your hair as you came out of your high.

Bucky removed your legs from his shoulders. "I'll take the ass"

"I'll take the front." Steve said quickly.

Logan rolled his eyes, making you giggle. He sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have your pretty mouth then." He amirked, you giggled a bit again and he pressed a sweet kiss on your lips.

Steve removed his pants and boxers, sitting against the headboard, and helping you sit on top of him, kissing you sweetly.

"I'll be gentle, 'Kay?" He said with those sweet eyes in yours. You smiled and nodded, kissing you again.

He slowly began to sink you on his long cock, until his balls were pressed against your ass. You squeezed his shoulders, as he kissed your face to soothe you. You heard Bucky chuckle.

"If she is having problems with him, imagine what's gonna do with you." He said to Logan.

"W-what?" You said, looking at them from behind your shoulder.

"Logan is... pretty big, yeah." Bucky chuckled.

"And... and Steve is not?" You tried to understand.

"Oh, no, it's just... I'm definitely not bigger than him." He also chuckled. You almost looked scared. "You are gonna do perfect, sugar." Steve kissed your face again, as he began to rock upwards to you, slow and gentle.

All your worries dissappear once his cock began to kiss your sweet spots, briefly as he rocked against you, grunting under his breath.

"So tight, Jesus..." He threw his head back a second, but instantly moved back to kiss you, this time hungrier and deeper.

His hands grabbed your ass to move you up and down on his length, the clapping sound of his skin against yours filling the whole room.

Riding Steve was like a dream, you felt so loved and treasured, and surely you weren't expecting that in this kind of situation. His eyes looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, his hands grabbed you like you were delicate, made of porcelain. He kissed you like you were the woman of his life.

You heard the sound of fabric being removed and turned your head to see Bucky finally removing his pants. And while Steve kissed your neck as you rode him, you gasped at the sight of Bucky's cock. It had the same length as Steve's, which was already long, but it was way fatter, enough to make you doubt if it would fit in your virgin ass.

He spread the lube over his shalft, pumping it a few times before he got behind you.

"Don't you dare to stop." He smacked your ass, kissing the nape of your neck. "Gonna get you ready, and you are gonna keep riding him like a good girl, alright?" You nodded with whiny little sounds. "Very good." He smiled, peppering kisses on your neck as his big finger covered in lube began to sink in your back entrance.

You squealed at the intrusion, but you didn't stop riding Steve. The blonde kissed you, trying to soothe you from the possible pain, but there was not such thing, only raw pleasure.

After you got used to one, Bucky sank another, moving it in a scissors way to stretch you out. He whispered soft praises in your ear, telling you how well you were taking him, how tight and warm you were.

"I need you to relax, doll." He said in your ear, slowly removing his fingers. "Can you take a deep breath for me?" You nodded, inhaling, retaining, and by the second you exhaled, Bucky was already sinking his tip in.

"Oh god!" You moaned, hugging Steve's neck.

Now, you had both friends rocking against you, filling you up, getting you cockdumb with a few thrusts. Steve was hitting your cervix beautifully, while Bucky was using your tight ass, gripping your hips to rock against you harshly.

"Having a good time without me I see." Logan teased, finishing his cigar.

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that you were feeling. He removed his belt and then his tank top. You were drooling, literally, against Steve's neck, between moans, at the sight of his enormous body, that you didn't notice when he pulled off his pants, showing that Bucky and Steve where right.

He was longer than Steve, fatter than Bucky, it had a long, thick vein that started in his happy trail and finished in his tip. You were thanking and blaming God that you didn't have him in your ass or your cunt, because he was definitely gonna rip you open.

He stood in front of you, pressing his tip on your parted lips. You kissed it messily, his tip already covered in your saliva, trying to fit it in your mouth slowly due to the movements of your body. You stayed still, letting Steve jackhammer you while Bucky fucked you from behind, and slowly slid his cock in your mouth, fitting half of it.

"Can't take it?" He mocked you. "Guess I'll have to take your cunt once blondie finishes."

He grunted when your tongue moved around his thickness, pulling your hair to keep your head still, until you began to move it back and forth, gagging as you tried to take more of him

"Fuck sake..." Logan grunted loudly.

"L-language." Steve said between groans.

"Shut up or I'll use your ass as my sex toy." He threatened and laughed when noticed by your reaction that his cock throbbed inside of you at the idea.

Steve rocked against you harder, Bucky hugged your body from behind, both of them trying to get you over the edge.

Your eyes widened when both men hit your spot almost at the same time, making you clench around them as your orgasm snapped, coming all over Steve's cock and dripping into the blankets again.

Weakly, you kept sucking Logan off, your tongue lining that thick vein and giving the tip some kitten licks that made him smile between groans.

A couple of thrusts inside of you and Steve came inside of you, his thick release painting your cunt. Your legs shivered at the warm feeling, and you had to remove Logan's cock from your mouth to take a breath. But his hand moved you to make out with his cock again, showing that he wasn't done with you

Bucky's thrusts began to get irregular and messy, his pace already ruined, and with a shaky moan, he pressed head in your shoulder and his hips against your ass, which was dripping his cum in that very second.

"S-sorry..." He apologized, already sensitive, but the shaky laugh that came out after that showed that he wasn't sorry at all. "I cum a lot." He chuckled, staying inside as you kept sucking off Logan.

You were already exhausted, burnt out, and Logan could see that. He removed your head with a little pop and kissed your cheek.

"Take a breath." He mumbled. "And you two, get off. Gonna show you how it's done." He teased, although there was some truth behind his words.

Bucky removed first, you hissed a bit as clinged to Logan, who helped you lift your hips in order to Steve to roll off. He lied you on the bed, getting between your legs and putting them on his shoulders. He kissed your ankle gently as he slid in.

You moaned weakly, mumbling something like you couldn't take it anymore.

"You sure? Because she seems to be sucking me in." He teased, slowly rocking his hips against you, Steve's cum still dripping from there.

In a second, he gripped your legs and began to fuck himself inside of you, mocking your expressions as you got overwhelmed once again with how he filled you up. You loved riding Steve, it was magical, but missionary with Logan? He hit the right spots with every movement, definetly a winner.

He suddenly stopped, looking behind him to find both young boys with their hands on their cocks, two pairs of eyes on how your tits and rolls bounced.

"You know, boys." He started. "I think there is enough room."

Your eyes darted between Logan and the two friends, slowly understanding the situation. Logan smirked when you clenched around him at the idea. "And someone here seems to like the idea."

You looked at the three men now in front of you, broad and masculine. Steve pressed your left knee in your chest while Bucky did the same with your right one, your abused hole with Logan's dick still inside now in sight.

Slowly, Bucky slid in, you whimpered at the stretch, but still taking it, breathing in and out.

"You look like you are giving birth." Bucky teased, Logan grunted.

"Don't give me ideas."

Steve gently slid half of his length in, with each inch, your moans got louder and louder, you could have come in that second.

Three cocks inside was a lot, too much, of course, but you were taking it so good that it seemed like you did this every single time.

"Such a dirty whore, taking three cocks like a champ." Logan teased, starting to slowly fuck himself inside of you.

Steve did the same, although much slower and gentle. Bucky snapped his hips against you in a quicker pace, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you.

It didn't take long for you to feel that knot in your tummy undoing itself, each thrust a little pull that threatened to snap it.

"I-I..." You babbled, just noticing you were drooling over your chin. "Cum... p-please..." You managed to pronounce.

"Cum, huh?" Bucky smirked, grunting as he kept thrusting.

"Well aren't you pretty?" Logan teased. "She is taking us so well, maybe you deserve to cum." His broad hand moved to knead your breast.

"She does, of course she does." Steve moaned low, and his rough thumb moved to your abused cunt, finding your clit and flicking it in his pad.

"Oh god!" You sobbed, gripping Logan's forearm and the bedsheets.

You threw your head back and simply allowed yourself to let it go. The room was filled with the clapping sound of skins snapping against each other, grunts, groans, growls and moans, whiny airy sounds that sometimes appeared from the men's lips.

Finally, the knot snapped undone and you came, you came a lot, there was a big stain in the bedsheets that was your art piece, and your entrance was dripping a thicker fluid that covered their cocks that, after a few thrusts, began to come, one by one.

Your core and thighs were a mess of slicks, and you, you were a shivering disaster at this point, shaking with overstimulation, your pupils dilated like you were on drugs.

Bucky was the first to cradle you in his arms, holding you against his chest while cuddling your sides.

"Get her clean, I'll change the sheets so we can rest." Logan said once he caught his breath.

Bucky lifted you easily, rocking you as he moved to the bathroom with Steve. The blond caressed your hair and kissed your face while Bucky cleaned you gently, his hands moving over your body with nothing other than affection and care. Once cleaned and dry, Logan put you on some boxers of his and one of his flannels.

"Ready to sleep, beautiful?" He asked, caressing your hair. You smiled lovingly and nodded, making him smile too and he leaned to kiss your nose.

"Here, doll." Bucky handed you a cup of tea. "That throat must hurt." He kissed the top of your head.

"You made me tea?" You asked surprised, your eyes shining at him.

"Of course I did, doll, why so surprised?" He lied in the right side of the bed, with you sitting between Logan's leg and resting your back and head on his chest, his arms around you.

"I didn't expect this, that's all." You said shyly, drinking from your beverage.

"Well, that's the bare minimum, you were so kind letting us do this with you, and you took it great." Steve said softly, kissing your forehead and laying on the other side.

"You three do this often?" You asked curiously.

"Never the three of us, Steve and I have done threesomes, but never with the old machine." Bucky elbowed Logan, who rolled his eyes.

"And it was a great experience, darlin', I must admit." Logan nuzzled against your hair, the two soldiers nodded along.

"Well, I wouldn't mind repeating it other time." You fidgeted with the cup.

"Is that so?" Steve pressed his face in your shoulder, smiling sweetly at you.

Bucky's hand move to caress your thigh. "I wouldn't mind either." He kissed your arm gently.

"Well, everyone seems happy in this situation." Logan sighed. "Guess we will have to share you, because if we do this everytime, we are gonna end up breaking you."

"I'll take the first." Steve said quickly.

"I'll take the second!" Bucky followed alone.

"Don't you think she gets the right to choose, you idiots?" Logan huffed, and you giggled.

"I'll take Logan first." You answered.

"Oh, come on!" Bucky pretended a complain.

"He earned it!" You giggled.

"Yeah, I got the apartment." Logan added along. "And I'm the eldest."

"How old are you?" You asked innocently. The three men got silent.

"You don't wanna know yet, darlin'."

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?

Alas... the much-awaited ktih

Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping

It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.

Today, however, is a different story.

Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.

Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.

"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."

"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.

"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.

"... Sharon."

"Ya not even married, Cole."

He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."

Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.

Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"

"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.

"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."

Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"

"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."

"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."

Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.

Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.

"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"

"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."

"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.

Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.

"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"

"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.

Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.

Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.

He's got bigger priorities at the moment.

You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-

The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.

You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"

His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.

Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.

His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.

"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.

You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.

He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.

His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.

Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.

Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-

He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.

"I'm alright, I'm alright-"

"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.

"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.

"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."

Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"

He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."

"Out?"

"Yea, for lunch."

"Wh- where?"

"You decide. Monday."

Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"

He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."

Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"

"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"

You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.

"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.

Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.

"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."

He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...

He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.

You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?

You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.

[tw1sters]

Flight Risk

Two years should have been enough for you to move on from a heartbreaking situationship. However, Jake's return to North Island proves that time doesn't necessarily heal all wounds.

▸ PAIRING: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (she's on the pill), lots of dirty talk, sexual banter, some angst, basically maverick!jake, jealous & possessive!jake (personal fave) ▸ WORD COUNT: 15.1K ▸ A/N: longest work yet and this jake made me frustrated and happy. this is basically if mav and penny started off as fwbs. planning a lot of jake pov scenes from this one because i want to write him as an emotional mess! for now, pls enjoy :)

—

Quiet mornings at The Hard Deck are your favorites. With all the rowdy patrons gone, you’re left in the peace of the bar. It’s just you, the sticky floors, and the sound of waves lapping up against the shore. 

It’s been a few years since you took over for Penny. Her retirement with Maverick is well-deserved. The woman has the patience of a saint for dealing with military chaos for years before they chose to settle down somewhere quieter, somewhere less… government. Now, this is your life. Nothing you should be complaining about.

You like the hands-on work, you like being able to meet new people while also having regulars. The manual labor is almost gratifying. The motions of the day are muscle memory at this point. Restock any necessary bottles behind the bar, ensure you still have sufficient supply in the back, wipe down counters, and do your best to remove the residues from the previous night off the worn wooden floors. The number of people who come this way has increased over the last few months, something about training more and more graduates for air combat. Always preparing for a war that hopefully never comes. 

Some faces are more familiar than others, ones that come much too often. Out of all of them, your mind tends to wander to a certain blonde, and your heart pinches at the thought. Even after years of absence, he never fails to remind you of the things you’ve lost.

You shake his face away from your head. Today is not the day. You haven’t thought about him in a couple of months. There are things here on the island that remind you of him, spots you can never scrub free of traces of him, no matter how many memories you try to put in their place. 

Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a blessing and a curse. Once upon a time, you might’ve even considered him your best friend. The first time you met, he pulled all of his best lines to charm the pants off you. The only thing he left with was a hefty bar tab after he slid his phone on the bar counter to you, asking for your number. That bell ring is still the most satisfying one you’ve done to date. 

He ended up on North Island often, pulled in for special detachments and training. Eventually, he even started training his own batch of recruits. With the amount of confidence and sweet-talking he brought to you, it was no surprise that you ended up in his bed at some point. Well, him in yours mostly because your place had a lot more privacy compared to the apartments he shared with Bradley. 

And that one time turned into two and then three. After a while, you lost count of how many times you’ve come apart in his hands. It wasn’t only his witty remarks or playful banter that won you over. It was the quiet nights you shared when he told you about growing up in Texas, when you told him about what it was like growing up with both your parents in the military, when you both shared your secret fears and desires in the darkness of your room. 

Jake was all hard edges and sharp lines. He was a shameless flirt and an incorrigible asshole. But he was also a devoted son who visited his parents states away every time he had a weekend off, a good friend who apologized for missing a night with you when he had to comfort Javy after a breakup, a man who squeezed your hand through your nightmares and held you close. 

He was a man who was hard to miss in both senses of the phrase. Handsome. Smart. Loud. Loyal. 

Falling for him was inevitable. Even now, as you’re trying to distract yourself with chores for the day, the pain from that night still lingers. Your whispered confession, the flare of panic in his eyes. 

“I love you.” The words come out easily. They are ones that have been trapped in your chest for the longest time, restricting your heart from beating as freely as it should. You’ve known it for a while, choosing to bury them deeper and deeper until the feelings pile up again to the surface. With nowhere else to go, the only way to release it is to say it out loud. But saying it out loud makes it real and that terrifies you more than anything.

You and Jake are no secret to regulars. No official labels, but when he’s on the island, you’re his. Completely. It isn’t as if you’re sleeping around with anyone else, even when he’s gone. He’s rarely gone long enough for you to crave touch from someone else – not that you do. Jake has replaced the memory of every man before him, and spoiled you for every man after. 

The silence speaks volumes. You don’t dare look up, instead opting to withdraw from him in favor of slipping on your shirt. Another barrier between the two of you. A belated protective shield for you. 

When you finally chance a glance his way, there’s a storm of emotions clouding his eyes. You can recognize the ones you anticipate: disappointment, resentment, pity. He doesn’t move where he sits on your bed, still naked beneath your sheets. Your name comes out of his mouth like a scold. Your face crumples into a wince. 

After the first few times, you both agreed that this is meant to be clean. A no-relationship relationship. Just sex whenever he’s in town. It’s a win-win for him who’s constantly on the road and for you who can’t imagine yourself managing anything else beyond the bar. 

But who were you kidding? You never stood a chance with Jake Seresin. Nights with him aren’t just hours spent tangled in each other, chasing the sort of pleasure that only comes from familiar, experienced hands. They are midnight conversations and tender touches. They are your laughs encouraged by his kisses.  

“I know” is all you can muster. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Jake doesn’t. He can’t possibly give you a response that would remedy this situation. This relationship. 

“Look, forget about it. It was a mistake.” 

“You made it complicated, sweetheart. I told you I don’t do complicated.”

“I get it,” you snap back, a little harsher than you intended. “I’m not asking for anything. I just… it came out.” 

Jake licks his lips as his hand reaches up to run through his messy hair. Minutes ago, it was your fingers that rumpled through his blonde hair. It feels like a lifetime away now. His frustration is more palpable now. He grits his teeth when he coldly says, “Why did you have to go on and ruin a good thing?”

It’s like driving a stake through a gaping wound. “I fucked up, I’ll admit. But you don’t need to be an asshole about it. There are probably worse things in life than to have someone tell you they love you.”

A hoarse laugh escapes him. “Really? You think so? Because right now, it doesn’t feel like there is.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” 

“Well, I’m not the one that decided to fall in love with a fucking asshole.”

On some level, you’re probably aware that he doesn’t mean to be this cruel, throwing your feelings back in your face. It’s the heightened emotions and the exhaustion from a long day. However, you’re also the one who got rejected. The least he could do is be decent about it, be gentler. 

“Love isn’t a goddamn decision, prick.”

“Name-calling, darlin’? Not your best attack.” Your humiliation and sorrow are replaced by fury. As someone you once considered a close friend, mocking you in this very moment feels like a bullet straight through you.

You swallow thickly, looking away. Any more from him and you may break down in tears, and the last thing you want to give him is your vulnerability. Clearly, he doesn’t deserve it. Nor did he ever want it. 

“I should go.”

Looking at the darkness outside, you feel your heart soften. You’re pissed, but you’re not a complete monster. You won’t resort to being one like he did. “You should stay the night, it’s late. You can leave in the morning. Take the couch.”

A grunt. “You know that’s no longer a good idea. I’ll be fine.” He shrugs on his clothes quickly. The ticking clock on your wall feels like a bomb that’s about to explode. Only, you feel as if you’re already standing in the aftermath of it all. 

You walk him out quietly, standing a foot away when he opens the front door. The evening breeze chills your hallway and you immediately rub the goosebumps rising on your arms. Jake looks up at you one more time, those three so-easily identifiable feelings still etched onto the lines of his face. 

“I don’t think we should do this again.”

The final nail in the coffin. All you can do is nod in agreement. It hurts. Of course, it fucking hurts. But there’s nothing else you can do – he held up his end of the bargain and you let it fall apart in your hands. 

“Be safe,” you say in response. It feels like the only appropriate one. 

Jake nods and closes the door behind him. With the roar of his bike, he disappears into the night.

Two years. It’s been two years since that fateful night. Jake hasn’t been back since. It’s not just your bar that he avoids, it’s the entire base altogether. While you see some of his friends on occasion, his face is nowhere to be seen in the crowd. There are murmurs on where he’s located, even if people try to whisper it far away from you. But Jake isn’t one to stay under the radar for too long, his exploits are thoroughly discussed by many who pass through your bar. Last you heard, he is deployed in the Middle East somewhere on a long-term operation. 

Part of you is grateful that you don’t have to deal with the awkwardness of being half an ex; it stings even more when you think you’re not even really an ex. However, after months of constant texting and late FaceTime calls even when he’s gone, his absence is noticeable. The ghost of him is apparent in the echo of his laugh by the pool table, the shadow of his broad frame when he leans over your bar and shoots you a wink. 

But it’s been two years and you’ve moved on. Somewhat. You’ve seen other people since then – not only sleeping with them but actually going on dates in what hopefully would turn into something more. 

No such luck. 

The effort is exhausting and you find working at the bar much more rewarding. It’s small talk that is meaningful to you, building new relationships with soon-to-be regulars rather than vetting an unknown man to be your potential boyfriend. At this point, you can almost say for certain that there is not a lot of potential in the crowd you meet. 

After two years, the ground beneath your feet is steadier. You hold nothing against Jake. You knew what you signed up for with him and it was neither your fault nor his that you ended up losing someone close to you. You’re thankful that you were able to tell him your feelings before he disappeared; it’s comforting to you that at least he knows, wherever he is, that he has someone who cares about him. 

With that said, you also have no interest in reliving one of the worst moments of your life. Your embarrassment lives in the deepest corners of your mind. You’ve thought a lot about what you would do if Jake ever came back. 

You would play it cool. You would be friendly. Cordial. But you also have no interest in a fresh start. You and Jake are going to be complete strangers with a lot of mutual friends.

It’ll be fine. It will work. 

At least, that is what you tell yourself when you sense that familiar presence. You hate how attuned you still are to him. The sound of his footsteps, the laugh that the wind carries in, and even the way he opens the door. A slight creak that sounds almost thunderous in the sparse bar. 

You don’t look up. You don’t need to. You continue wiping down your glasses and chatting with Irene, who probably spends too much time here. However, her company in the present is much appreciated. Your back faces the door and you have an excuse to keep your eyes fixated on the woman in front of you, rather than the blonde who’s getting closer and closer. 

Andy – the second bartender you’ve hired since business picked up – is manning the side of the bar closer to the door. He can handle him. Irene’s voice blurs into the background and suddenly your heart is rushing in your ears and the only voice that slices through is Jake Seresin saying your name. 

Fuck.

Two years. Two long years without him and you still can’t get yourself together when it comes to him. 

Andy taps you on the shoulder, tells you someone is asking for you. You wish Irene weren’t so kind, wish that she would tell Andy to take care of the man himself. Instead, she leaves you to your misery with a comforting smile. 

Taking a deep breath, you urge your heart to slow. It’s just Jake. You were friends once. You can be friendly. 

You turn around. 

Nothing could have prepared you to see how much Jake has changed. He’s still undeniably and objectively handsome, those sharp features and bright eyes could appeal to any man and woman in the vicinity. However, the five o’clock shadow along his jaw and the healthy tan on his skin give him that rougher edge that his boyish self never had. He’s older, grown.

Even so, there’s a softness to his eyes that’s new. His gaze has always been hard when he dials up his flirting game. This tenderness – it feels like the work of a woman. 

Could it be? Someone has finally tamed the young and wild Jake Seresin? The thought hurls you with bitterness and annoyance. It’s been a few years. It’s entirely possible that in that time, he’s met someone who changed his mind about love. 

Your mouth dries at the thought and you internally curse your body for reacting this way. Be happy, be nice. You inhale a shaky breath as you make your way towards him, a small smile forced onto your face. 

“Jake Seresin.” Saying his name feels like a prayer and a curse.

He tips his head and then offers you that blinding grin. One that you’ve grown so used to receiving and have missed immensely. “How are you doing, darlin’?”

“Same old.” Your lips quirk up. “What are you doing back on this side of the planet?”

Jake leans over the bar, his large frame coming up too close to your personal space. The temptation to draw the invisible line that he cannot cross is there, but that would be a little too immature, even for you. His arms fold on top of the counter. “Looking for the prettiest girl on the planet.”

“Hm? Any luck?”

“Yeah, think I got it right on the first try.” 

Your heart does a backflip in your chest. Fucking Jake Seresin and his snake charming tendencies. It’s almost painful how easily the two of you fall back into old routines – the banter, the flirting. You neutralize your expression to ensure nothing gives away how difficult this is for you. You’re not giving him the satisfaction of showing him how affected you are by him. Still, even after two goddamn years.

“What do you want, Hangman?”

“Iced tea.” Your eyebrows jump at that. 

“Have I entered the twilight zone in which you don’t get drunk off your ass the moment you walk into this bar?”

That was a mistake, because you’re then rewarded by that full-bellied laugh. The one you grew fond of. Your heart does its thing again. 

“As much as I would love to clean out your stockpile of IPAs – you probably have a surplus at this point, I do have to head to base after this.” 

You take your chance to pull a fresh glass and prepare his drink, your back once again facing him. You run through the list of safe questions in your head. Don’t ask him how long he plans to be here, you’ll sound interested. Don’t ask him what he’s doing here, you’ll sound like you care too much.

You’ve learned the hard way that he hates that. 

Instead, you settle for a simple “got it.” 

Calm, cool, collected. That’s your motto for however long Jake has his fucking feet on this blasted island. 

You turn back around and slide the glass over to him as he hops onto a stool. He tilts it back and takes long gulps, like a parched man in the desert. He cleans out the drink and immediately asks for a refill. You oblige and hand it back to him. 

“How’ve you been?”

There are so many ways you can answer this question. Three C’s. Remember the three C’s. “Good, it’s been busy here. A lot of new faces but some familiar ones. Think Coyote was here a couple of weeks ago so you just missed him.”

“Yeah, he told me. The man’s getting married soon.”

Of course, he still talks to Javy. Why wouldn’t he? Unlike the two of you, they’re actually friends.

You mentally chide yourself for being so petty. On the outside, you nod. “Winter wedding. Good thing he’s doing it in Mexico City. That’ll be a fun trip.” 

“You’re going then?”

“Yeah, winter is actually pretty slow for the bar so think Andy has it covered.”

Jake nods slowly. You observe his thinking face, another question on the tip of his tongue that he decides not to ask. The serious expression disappears as he flashes you another smile. “I’ll catch you then for sure.”

“Best man?”

“Best best man,” he replies with a wink and you can’t even stop the laugh that comes out of your mouth. His eyes gleam a little brighter. Jake straightens a little, looking almost awkward when he asks, “Are you bringing anyone?”

The implicit questions are there. Are you seeing anyone? Are you dating anyone serious enough to bring to a wedding? A wedding where your ex-situationship is the best man?

You think of the limited number of ways you could avoid answering this question. “Thought it was a small wedding, didn’t think I would get a plus one.”

“Javy would definitely let you bring one if you wanted.”

“That would be nice of him.”

“So are you?”

Stupid Jake and his stupid ability to push. You could lie, but that means you would have to find someone by that time to actually bring to this destination wedding. That feels a little much, even if it’s to teach Jake a lesson. 

“Nope,” you shrug and your curiosity wins out, “are you?”

He seems to think about it for a bit, worrying his bottom lip. “No, not right now at least.”

Not right now. It definitely hurts more than it should. 

Jake quickly adds, “I’m not seeing anyone. I just – you know, things can change between now and December.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

When you look at him again, he seems to be contemplating something. The thinking face is back on. “I’ll be here for at least a month,” he starts. You have a bad feeling about where this is going, but you already know your answer. Your resolution stands firm. Thankfully, he keeps it in safe territory. “Teaching a new batch of recruits with Bradshaw, actually.”

“Oh, I haven’t seen him around in a bit so that’ll be nice.”

If you say nice one more time, you may actually choke on how nice you’re trying to be. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “It’s kind of crazy. To think they would trust me to teach other pilots.”

“Is it that crazy?” His eyes flare with surprise. “I mean, you and Bradley are probably the best aviators. You trained under Mav. Plus, you can be a tough teacher, but your confidence is something that gives other people confidence.” 

Jake lifts his glass to his lips again, saying nothing.

That’s when you realize– “Are you blushing?”

He immediately scoffs, still hiding behind his drink. The ice clinks against the glass as he jerks it up higher. “I don’t blush.” 

“Aw, Jake, you don’t have to be so shy about it.”

The tips of his ears turn a deeper shade of red as he rolls his eyes at you. “I’m not shy. I just… wasn’t expecting that from you.”

“Expecting what?” 

“I don’t know, a compliment?”

“Am I really that mean that you don’t think I could compliment you?”

“It’s not that,” he huffs, curling his fingers together around his cup as he stares down into it. “The way we left things off, I didn’t think–” he pauses, “–I wasn’t sure how you would feel about me being here again.”

Oh. You shift a little where you’re standing. “I’m an adult, Jake. I can take care of myself so you don’t have to worry. My feelings are not your responsibility. It’s also been two years, I’ve moved on. It’s fine.” 

His eyes flicker with something unknown. “I never apologized for—”

“You really don’t have to,” you interrupt, a coarse laugh slipping past your lips. “You definitely do not have to apologize.” 

“No, I do. At least for how I responded. I was a dick. The situation at the time wasn’t ideal, but you deserve better than how I reacted.” 

Your smile softens. “Well, thank you. The apology was unnecessary but appreciated.” 

Jake returns your expression. “I’ll be around. I have to head to base, just wanted to stop by and say hi.” He drops a few bills on the counter. Before he turns, he looks at you again. Those blue eyes that still spark something inside of you. “It’s good seeing you.”

“You too, Seresin.” 

With that, he’s gone and you’ve just survived your first interaction with Jake Seresin. 

–

Jake wasn’t kidding when he said he would be “around.” Without fail, every night, he is back at the bar with the trainees. They are a boisterous crowd, reminding you of the Dagger Squad years back, before you even took over for Penny. Most of them are always by the darts or pool table, bickering about who’s the better player, which apparently translates to who’s the better pilot. There are a few that Bradley drags over to the piano, belting out classic rock songs that he and Mav used to bond over. 

Even as a cocky pain in the ass, Jake has always been good at building connections. The peals of laughter following whatever story Jake tells reverberate across the bar, catching your attention and momentarily distracting you from whatever customer you were serving. 

It’s kind of heart-warming to see Jake with the next generation of fighter pilots. You’ve seen him grow into his skin. From being a thoughtless asshole to a confident, skillful team player, Jake Seresin has created a reputation of his own. Maverick’s name will live on at Top Gun forever, but Jake won’t be too far behind. 

Some nights, Jake would saunter over to the bar himself to grab the next round. He could’ve easily sent off one of his students with his credit card, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes showing off in front of you and them. 

“Next round’s on me, darlin’.” 

Before your heart can skyrocket traitorously, you snatch his card and ring him up for two rounds of beers for the entire crew. He doesn’t blink at the doubled amount, signing his check with a wink before whistling them over to grab their drinks. When one of them fails to thank you for the service, Jake will slap them on the back of their head and scold, “Manners.” 

Still polite as ever. 

“How’s your day going?” Jake asks as he slides onto a stool, taking a slow sip of his beer.

God, you know those eyes. That is a look that is all too familiar. That come-hither that has led you to the back room, his bed, a wall, and whatever remotely accessible surface he can press you against.

“Don’t even think about it,” you hiss. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know that look on your face after seeing it for years?”

Jake smiles with feigned innocence. “I was actually hoping you would remember.” His eyes drag lazily from your face, down your neck, to your curves, before flying back up. His pupils are blown wide as he wets his lips. You resist the shudder that creeps up on you.  

Shaking your head, you hide your smile as you back up towards the bell. 

Jake’s expression falters fast as he looks down at his hand, where his phone is. “My phone didn’t even touch the counter,” he argues.

“That look you’re giving me is pretty disrespectful, Seresin,” you smirk as you ring it loud enough for the entire place to hear. His phone clattering to the bar should’ve earned him a second ring but you decide to show mercy.  

The room erupts into cheers, people – including his recruits – stopping by to give him a firm pat on the back. Comfort or gratitude, or maybe both. “Rookie mistake,” you pick up his phone and toss it his way. 

Even with a tab that’s slowly mounting, Jake doesn’t lose the smile on his face. “Anything to get you more business, sweetheart.” 

Shaking your head, you click your tongue. “I hope your credit limit has improved since the last time this happened.” Paying for the entire bar and getting thrown overboard was a memorable experience for him. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, I came prepared this time.” 

When the night comes to an end and you pull up Jake’s tab, all he can do is offer a sheepish look. 

“I’ll get you the remainder tomorrow?”

Even if the bar is closing soon, you max out his credit card on the majority of the tab but still have his recruits toss him out onto the beach. When you look at him splayed out, covered in sand, he still has a dopey smile on his face. “Take an economics class and learn about inflation before you come back tomorrow, Seresin.” 

Jake’s magnetism knows no bounds. It’s difficult not to be drawn and trapped into his orbit. Between his chiseled face and toned body (only half of which is visible, mind you), he also has the added appeal of that southern spell. The slight drawl to his syllables and the invisible cowboy hat. And this is all before he starts recounting stories of his adventures in the Navy with an added, “It’s all confidential, of course.” 

Once, you were on the receiving end of all of that. Back when he still needed to talk you into going home with him. Now, you can see the full force of his charisma when even some of your regular girls – ones you know are not the type to fall at the feet of the first hot man to walk in – fall at his feet. 

Even with all the attention on him, you find that his eyes always come back to you. 

There is something incredibly flattering about the way his stare peruses you lazily, the slow stroll of his eyes up your body until your gazes lock. He doesn’t turn away, nor does he even blink. He isn’t awkward about the fact that he has been caught looking. Instead, he flashes you that blinding grin again, the one where his lips stretch wide to reveal his perfect set of pearly whites. 

In another world, Jake probably could’ve been a model, like the ones on the cover of Vogue, with an equally attractive female companion. In this one, he’s a purely cocky and insufferable government asshole.  

You always break your gaze away first. Sometimes he stares at you so intensely with that look in his eyes. A second longer and you may be one of those people falling at his feet and you certainly cannot have that happening.

Again.

When you close up shop for the day, you find him waiting outside, leaning against your car. His arms are crossed over his chest, emphasizing how thick his biceps have gotten since you last saw him. You didn’t even think that was possible. A toothpick flips between his lips as he smiles at you. “Drive you home?”

“I can drive myself home, thanks.”

“Just want you to be safe, darlin’.” You narrow your eyes at him and he holds his hands up in defense, yet that stupid smile never leaves his face. “I’ll be good, scout’s honor.”

“Woe are your fellow men if you were ever a Boy Scout.”

“Don’t disrespect the organization. For your information, I was an Eagle Scout.” He puffs out his chest proudly. “And I did swear an oath to help other people at all times. Hence, here I am tonight. Looking to help.”

“And how will you get home after?”

Jake’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous that you immediately scowl at. He laughs, “I’ll get Bradshaw to come get me. He’s not too far.”

It’s been a long day and you can feel the exhaustion disintegrating deep into your bones. Rather than argue further, having a driver for the night doesn’t seem like the worst idea. You toss your keys over to him and watch as he swings open the passenger door for you. Once you’re settled in, he jogs over to the other side.

You forget how familiar he is with your car. He knows just the right wiggle to get the old thing to start purring, where all the knobs are, and even to avoid the cupholder on the driver’s side where you constantly spill your hot drink for the day. Before long, he is pulling out of the lot and starting the short drive to your place. You make a mental note that Jake still remembers where you live – admittedly, he has driven there many times before. Perhaps too many times. 

Jake always starts the conversation by asking how your day went. With anyone else, you keep it short with a “good” because they usually don’t actually care about your day, they want to get their beer. However, Jake actually does ask follow-up questions. Sometimes he asks you if you’re planning to change your beer selection for the season, or how work with Andy is going, or even if there’s anyone causing you any trouble.

“You let me know and I’ll handle it.”

You shake your head, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips. “The only trouble in my bar is you, Seresin.”

“Me? Trouble? Never.”

“Isn’t it part of Scout’s honor to never lie?”

He laughs, head tipping back as he does so. “Don’t think they make us swear that oath. How do you think I got away with so much?”

“And again, I say, trouble.”

Jake turns to you for a brief moment, his eyes shrinking as his smile stretches wider. You raise your eyebrow at him in question. He lets out a deep sigh but the delight does not seem to leave his face. “It’s always you,” he murmurs quietly. 

You’re not sure if he intends for you to hear, but it might be best to ignore it. Your stomach is already fluttering uncomfortably, and you can feel your pulse racing, pressing against your skin. When your eyes fly over to his one-handed grip on the wheel, you can’t help yourself from studying the veins that run up his large hand. His other hand holds onto the gear shit, clutching tight. 

The breeze from the open window carries in the memories you’ve tried to bury deep. Long drives on summer evenings when you don’t feel like going home just yet. His hand on your thigh, large and imposing. Parking on the side of a deserted road where he pulls you onto his lap and has you ride him until you’re a whining mess. 

Fuck. 

You mentally bat the thoughts away. The last thing you need is to get turned on in Jake’s presence. You can already feel your thighs pressing involuntarily together and you just hope Jake doesn’t notice. 

Except, when you look up at him, his gaze is already trained on your legs where they are exposed underneath your shorts. It’s heated. There’s a weight to them that you can’t ignore. It only makes you shift even more. Your gaze shifts to his hands, his knuckles now white from how tightly he’s holding onto the wheel. Your eyes meet for a brief second and he follows the movement of your throat as you swallow the saliva that’s gathered on your tongue. 

Luckily, your house is already in sight. You pull your eyes away from him, clearing your throat to look at the road ahead instead. He slows to a stop in front and turns off the engine, leaving you both in the silence, accompanied only by the winds blowing from the shore. 

You pull yourself off the leather seat and get out of the car, hearing Jake do the same. Without giving him another glance, you walk up to your door. Your knees feel wobbly and you curse yourself for being so spineless. 

Two years without him and you were fine. 

Two years and your body still responds to him this way. 

As you unlock your front door, Jake calls out, “Not going to invite me in for a drink?” 

You stare at him from your front porch. He is again propped up against your car, arms crossed. Only this time, he isn’t smiling. He stares at you with that look. The one that reminds you of sex and regret. He looks like a man straight out of the movies. Good thing he never went into Hollywood. 

It’s all too tempting to say yes, tell yourself that one drink can’t hurt. 

But you always know where you end up with Jake.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome, Commander.”

Jake’s eyes shine with something dangerous. Desire. Want. He loves it when you call him that. He clenches his jaw. “You’re really going to leave me out here after addressing me like that?”

“Thanks for the ride, sweetheart.” You smile and disappear behind your door, breathing in deeply once you’re safe in the confines of your home.

If you were keeping score, you’d guess you’re at least a point ahead of him. 

–

It’s a gorgeous day. The kind that feels like a nice break before the chaos that will inevitably occur at the bar tonight. You enjoy quiet afternoons like these. The sun sits high in a cloudless sky, and seagulls soar lazily overhead, caws sounding in the distance. A light breeze drifts in from the ocean, salty and soft, just enough to cool the warmth that kisses your skin. 

You’re perched on one of the outdoor tables, your bar ledger in front of you as you’re scribbling down line after line of expenses. Each one makes you wince a little more. A bar is not the most profitable endeavor. While you enjoy the work, you know that you’ll never live a life of luxury running this place. It’s something you’ve come to terms with a long time ago. 

Releasing a deep sigh, you reach your arms up in a stretch. The bar is taking a toll on your savings and your back. Aging isn’t a kind process. 

While you mourn the numbers on your pages, you do have one good thing going for you.

Namely, the hooting and hollering happening down by the water. 

Touch football has become a tradition for the Navy, at least for those who had been part of the Dagger Squad. Maverick’s success lives on through this team bonding activity that the members now pass on to their trainees. It’s become a ritual for them to bring out a new team out here to get more comfortable with each other. You’ve seen a number of them throughout the years and each group is always more enthusiastic than the one before. 

You place your hand above your eyes, blocking out the sun so you can get a better look. Jake and Bradley aren’t difficult to spot. Two tall, muscular men running circles around their recruits. They seem to be enjoying the exercise much more than the people they’re supposed to train. The cheers and yells echo down to where you sit and you find your eyes following the silhouettes chasing after the footballs on the beach. Some of them fall over, rolling around in the wet sand, while others are tackled straight into the sea.

You can admit to yourself that you’re really only paying attention to one man. Since he’s been back, you’ve only seen him in uniform or in casual wear like denims and t-shirts. But it’s been a while since you’ve seen him shirtless. Even from this distance, you can see the shadowed lines of his sculpted six pack, his broad shoulders, and the curves of his structured arms. 

It’s no wonder Penny enjoyed sitting out here. She got a good look at Maverick while she did her accounting, you just inherited the habit from her. Your work is long forgotten now, pen useless in your hands as your eyes continued to follow his form traveling across the sand. 

Biting your lip, you replay all those times you’ve run your hands over that body, how much time you spent watching every muscle flex when he hovers above you. You could practically feel the whisper of his lips against your skin. 

Fuck, you really need to get laid. Soon. 

Not by him. Definitely not him. 

You’re about to bang your head against the table when Jake perks up and waves at you. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face and you can already see that wicked glint in his eyes hidden behind his shades. You force a smile and return the gesture before hunkering down on your work again. 

You curse your past self for thinking that manually keeping track of quantity and dollars would be a better idea than running the whole thing on a spreadsheet. Penny always liked the act of holding a pen and writing all of these digits down, said it made it more tangible. 

More like tangibly painful. As you wrap up the last of your receipts, you make a mental note that it’s time to join the modern world and dump this entire thing into a software that would make your life infinitely easier. 

Just as you’re about to stretch again, a figure steps up and obstructs your exposure to the sweltering sun. The brief reprieve from the afternoon rays is one you welcome, but not when you realize it’s Jake who’s shown up. The sun traces a glow around his figure, an unwelcome ethereal effect that makes him look more than human.

He shifts away and slides into the bench opposite you. A smug smile is still dancing on his lips as his chest and shoulders heave with heavy breaths. “Care to join?”

Your eyes fly to the crowd that’s still running around like headless chickens and back to him. “Absolutely not. Who do you think I am?”

Jake’s eyes begin to dangerously explore you. From your hair pulled away from your neck in a loose bun, strands messily swirling in the wind, to the shape of your smooth, exposed shoulders carrying the thin straps of your tank. His gaze trails down to your chest, where your cleavage peeks out from beneath the flimsy fabric that lifts and falls with the wind. You can’t deny that this top makes your tits look great, and no, of course you didn’t wear this just because you knew Jake was coming to the beach today. 

You definitely did not. 

That would be ridiculous. 

You tell yourself that that’s the truth, and it helps you sleep at night. 

Jake looks at you again, but his gaze has darkened. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you running around in a bathing suit,” he smirks. “Or if you prefer to run around wearing nothing at all, I don’t think I would mind, but let’s keep that for the bedroom.”

Scowling, you fling your pen his way and he easily catches it. Stupid Jake and his stupid military reflexes. “The only thing running around here is your imagination. Keep it in your pants, Seresin,” you snap. 

“That’s not what you said before.”

“Years ago,” you bite back, “I’ve outgrown you, Hangman. You and all your bravado. We all know why they call you that.” 

Jake laughs and you can’t help but drink in his sun-kissed skin. He looks golden. “You know full well I’ve outgrown that definition of my call sign. Now, Hangman just means something else – something you’re intimately familiar with.”

It takes you a second to divert your attention away from his radiant skin. When the realization of his words dawns on you, you involuntarily gag at his comment.

He opens his mouth and you cut him off before he could say a word, “If you even think about dropping a ‘that’s what she said’, I’ll personally ban you from the bar and charge you for every single drink from here on out.”

Jake doesn’t falter. He grins even wider, “Never took you for financial fraud, that’s kind of sexy.” 

You sniff, turning away from him and back to your papers. “Orange isn’t really my color so, again, keep it in your pants.”

“Every color is your color, darlin’. We can both agree on that.”

That’s the first compliment he’s given you in a while. You feel your cheeks warm but you blame it on the blistering afternoon sun. Perhaps it’s time to take your work back indoors. Before you do though, you snipe back, “Well, red isn’t really yours so put on more sunscreen.” You gather up your documents and move towards the entrance.

Of course, you don’t miss the last wink he throws at you and the blatant ogling of your ass as you walk away.

Okay, so maybe his staring can be a little flattering.

–

Ever since Jake came back, you’ve been a little more than sexually frustrated. When you close your eyes at night, the image of him shirtless above you appears. From the way his blonde hair falls over his eyes, mussed up from a workout, to the way his blue eyes glitter deviously. Your imagination – worse yet, your memory – carries you through the whole scene of Jake’s fingers in your hair, his grip around your thigh, his cock—

Fuck, you barely last more than ten minutes most days.

You end up frustrated with your hands between your legs, pleasured but not completely satiated. 

Jake Seresin is a blight you need to purge from your life. 

It certainly doesn’t help that he shows his face night after night, flashing that smile at you from across the room. You have to remind yourself that you’ve done that more than enough times, you can’t do it again. 

Instead, you focus your energy, including your insatiable libido that keeps growing, on your patrons. It’s not the best idea, especially when you start accepting and returning the flirty remarks you receive from men you usually wouldn’t glance twice at – not because they weren’t attractive (because they were), but because you simply had no interest in a full romantic commitment with any of them. 

Being a bartender means you’ve endured a good amount of flattery, some more appropriate than others. You’ve never responded to them. You just take their money and you run with it. If they ever get too disrespectful – well, you know the drill. 

Not tonight, though. You’re enjoying the attention you were getting, and the sources of said attention noticed that. When they flirt, you flirt back. You relish in the fact that you still have a little game left in you. It’s supposed to be fun, light. It helps ease some of the sexual tension that has you all wound up. 

The bar is particularly busy so you have some regulars who are surprised by how welcoming you are and newcomers who are more than happy to oblige. 

This behavior does not go unnoticed by Jake. His eyes are always on you after all. 

When you’re bending over particularly low over the counter or giggling more over silly pickup lines, you could feel his gaze burning into you. You don’t acknowledge him. Instead, you flick your hair over your shoulder and smile at whoever you’re talking to. 

The tip jar gets some much-needed love that night. 

When you do look over at him, his eyes are still stuck on you. He barely pays any mind to whoever’s trying to speak to him. There’s a strange, sick satisfaction in the way his knuckles pale when he grips the cue by the pool table, the way he grits his teeth with a stiff jaw. 

You add another point to your scoreboard. 

With his eyes on you, maybe you do exaggerate your game a little bit. You sashay your hips a little more when you grab a beer. You brush your fingers against theirs. Even Andy shoots curious looks your way, but thinks better than to question it. There is a ninety percent chance that you’ll regret leading on these people tomorrow, but that’s a problem for future you.

Current you enjoys the suggestive looks these men are throwing your way. 

Andy calls your name from the other side and tells you that you’re out of coffee liqueur behind the bar. “I’ll get it, keep these fellas company for me, will you?” You give them one last wink, receiving some excited howls, before heading towards the back. 

The stock room is dimly lit by the sun setting outside. The light has been broken for a while and you make your tenth mental note to get that fixed. One day, you’ll get around to it. 

When you hear the stock room door close behind you, you don’t need to turn around to know that Jake is standing there. His cologne and familiar footsteps reach you before his question does. “Having fun?” His voice slices through the muted rumbles of the outside. 

There’s a heaviness to his question that sends a shiver up your spine. Rather than turn around and look at him, you purposely take your time scanning through the boxes to find the bottle you’re seeking. You bend over low to grip the neck of one before slowly rolling up, pretending to inspect it. 

“What ever do you mean?”

Jake steps into your line of sight. His height towers over you, and you back yourself up against the supply. He leans over, palm pressed against the box near your head. He’s so close that you could smell the mix of beer and mint in his breath. You can feel yourself clench tight between your legs. He presses his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t like to share.”

Irritation pricks at your skin. You glare at him. “Newsflash: I am not yours, Hangman.”

“If you want me to take care of your little problem, you are.”

Your lips part in surprise. Frowning, you snap, “What are you talking about?”

A sour laugh bubbles up his throat. The sound isn’t comforting. It feels almost like a warning. “You think I haven’t noticed you sending me those fuck me eyes. How you press your legs together when you look at me.”

As if on cue, you instinctively press your thighs together. God, there’s always something about Jake when he’s more demanding than usual. The dark shadow across his eyes as he takes you in hungrily. 

You lick your lips, his eyes dropping to them before darting back up. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you simply say. 

“I know you better than you know yourself, sweetheart. You know this. So what is it that you want? Do you want me to take you here in the backroom? Because I could, it wouldn’t be the first time–” you gasped and he continues, “I could bend you over that bar outside, show those guys who you belong to. Who gets you this wet.” 

Air refuses to leave your lungs, but you manage to spit out, “I’m not fucking wet.”

Jake laughs, “You’re telling me that if I stick my hand up your dress right now, you’re not wet? I can smell you from here.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, you’d like that.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest. You refuse to back down but so does he. All your emotions feel heightened in that tiny room. The anger, the wanton need. It feels as if you’re about to combust. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

Taking in a faltering breath, you grit your teeth. “I have a bar to run.” You move to pass him with your trembling knees, but not before he catches your arm. 

He keeps his message short and simple. “Anyone touches you again, I’ll knock their teeth out.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

“Maybe, but you’d look good on my cock again.”

Fuck. Your breath hitches, and the sound speaks volumes in the quiet room. The fucking audacity of this man. You yank your arm away from him and march to the door, swinging it open. 

“I mean it,” he calls out, “I’ll knock out anyone who even tries with you tonight.”

Jake is a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. He does not bluff. His confidence comes from a rightful place of pure experience and skill, both of which he has with you. Rather than risk a brawl, you decide to heed his warning. 

You no longer find excitement in how some of the men flirt with you, spending the rest of your night ducking away from their grasp and ignoring their teasing. The disappointment and confusion are clear, but all you can do is offer a sheepish look. They can blame the six-foot blonde keeping his eyes on you.

It’s not the fear of Jake starting a fight per se, but rather the way you revel in the way his gaze prowls over you. Constantly present, clear in your periphery. 

When you finally call it a night and shoo the last of your drunk visitors out, you lock up the bar and turn to find him standing there. There’s an air of ease around him, one that’s usually there, but it almost feels like there’s something more brewing. Something a little more sacriligeous. You tense when his eyes pull up from his phone to you. He quickly tucks his phone into his pocket and smiles at you.

“You always were a good listener.”

At that, you scowl. “That wasn’t for you. I just didn’t want to give them the wrong idea.”

His smirk only deepens. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He plucks the keys from your fingers and unlocks the car, swinging open the passenger door before you can protest. “Get in, darlin’. I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”

“That’s a first, you make it seem like it’s your full-time job,” you mutter but slip inside anyway.

He slides into the driver’s seat and turns on the engine. When he backs out of the parking lot, he stretches his arm across the back of your seat and looks over his shoulder, leaning closer towards you. You catch a good whiff of his scent again. 

Fuck him.

He knows exactly what that move does to you.

When he finally backs out, there’s a knowing smile dancing on his lips. 

There’s a thrum of anticipation in the car. Soft jazz croons from your crackly speakers and the wind whipping through your hair is barely a distraction. Jake is tapping his finger against the wheel in a consistent beat, his other hand on the seat between the two of you. His fingers are so close to your thigh, but they don’t touch. If you shift even a little bit, you could probably feel him on your skin. 

However, you would not give him that satisfaction. You know that he wants you to do precisely that. To admit that you are as affected by him as he says you are. 

That stupid smile is still on his lips. “Having fun?” You mocked, imitating his question from earlier.

His blue eyes sweep to you. “What ever do you mean?”

A glower mars your features. “You’re such a prick.”

“You fucking love it.”

“Ego the size of goddamn Jupiter, I’m surprised the president hasn’t kicked you off this planet yet.”

Jake chuckles. “Missed that mouth of yours.”

“Give you my fist instead,” you grumble under your breath. 

“Not my thing, darlin’. But if you want to try, you know I always aim to please.”

You balk. “Kinky motherfucker.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Jake parks in front of your house, switching the engine off and drenching the two of you in silence. 

The ride is short, but the stillness stretches for miles. 

A heavy hush coils in the car again, thick with something unspoken. Still, all you can hear is the steady rhythm of Jake’s finger on the wheel,  like a clock counting down to what you both know is inevitable. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears, masking all the white noise around you until all you can focus on is him. 

Then, his hand shifts. Just an inch. Just enough for the edge of his pinky to brush the hem of your skirt. 

You freeze, breath caught halfway in your lungs. Your body wants to lean into the touch, but you hold still. His pinky strokes the bare skin of your thigh – so faint, it could almost be accidental. But it’s not. 

You know it. He knows it. 

When you don’t pull away, his touch turns deliberate. His entire palm glides over your thigh, slow and steady. You could practically feel his pulse against your skin. The sight of his broad hand on your leg makes your stomach flip, and you swallow hard, trying to resist the whimper clawing its way up your throat. 

“Darlin’,” Jake starts, voice rough and low, tinted with a touch of desperation. 

You chance a look his way and catch the tension in his jaw, the heat behind his eyes. Your gaze falls to his lap, and you see the length of him pressing against his jeans, clear and thick even through the denim. 

The sharp ache between your legs is sudden, insistent. This time, the sound that leaves you is impossible to hold back. A soft whimper that fills the car with heat. 

Jake’s tongue swipes across his lips. The movement draws your eyes to them. 

This is a bad idea, you remind yourself. 

But that voice, one that is all too familiar to you, a voice that is soft, sly, and unmistakably yours, whispers back that this might just be the best one you'vel ever had. 

His name is barely out of your mouth before he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and capturing your lips in his. You melt like molten lava into the seat of your car. His hands are fast to slide up your hips to cup your cheek as he presses his lips more insistently against yours. He tastes like bitter beer, sweet mints, and excruciating heartbreak. 

But you relish in the flavors. A recognizable mix that belongs to you and only you. 

The clouds curl between your thoughts, a delicious haze that has you pliant in his hands. He’s kissing you so intently, a determination and hunger that feels like homecoming. Every moan you let out, he swallows like it’s his last breath. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. Missed you,” Jake mumbles against your lips, nipping lightly.

You can’t bring yourself to respond when he begins peppering wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hand slides down to cup your breasts, his thumb dragging lightly over your sensitive nipple over the fabric. “Shit, Jake,” you groan.

“Let me take you inside, sweetheart. Wanna take care of you properly.” 

Jake doesn’t wait for your response and hops out of the car. He circles to open your door and practically drags you out, your feet stumbling to keep up with his long strides. He presses you up against your door, one hand on your waist and the other buried in your hair. He tilts your head and slants his lips over yours again, tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. 

His grip on you is firm, holding you up even when you feel your foothold go unsteady. You turn to unlock your door and he’s close behind and you can feel the thickness of his erection against your ass. 

The room spins when he finally closes the door behind him and leads you to your bedroom. He scoops you up and tosses you onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He’s shrugging off his shirt in between kisses, flinging it somewhere across the room. Jake kisses you like tomorrow won’t come, like this is the last time he will get to indulge in the taste of you. 

He drags his tongue down your neck and sucks lightly on the skin until you feel the bite of a mark. He loves leaving his traces on you, a territorial seal that tells everyone else that you’re his. You forgot how much you love it when he does that. 

Jake leans back slightly, thumb against the blooming stain on your skin. “Fuckin’ gorgeous. All mine.”

He crawls down between your legs and hikes up your dress to your waist. He curses under his breath about how short these things are, how he could see your ass so clearly. However, his words taper off when he sees his favorite lace panties. 

So sue you, maybe you were expecting something to happen tonight – if not with him, then someone else.

Oh, who were you kidding? There’s no one else. It’s always been him. 

His finger slides down the damp line on your underwear and you clamp your legs together, embarrassed by how wet you are. How wet you’ve been the entire tonight. His large hands splay out on your thighs and pry them open again until he can see and smell you. “Shit, honey, your fucking pussy is dripping for me, isn’t it?” 

The force of his gaze has you twitching underneath him. 

He positions himself on his front between your legs, his mouth huffing hot hair too close to your sensitive skin. You’re so responsive to him, almost too responsive. He knows every little thing that makes you tick, every touch that makes you all too aware of his presence. 

His lips rake kisses up your thighs, and he pauses when you squirm in his hold. 

“You’ve never been shy,” Jake murmurs as he looks at you more closely, hooking his finger on your panties and slowly pulling them down to carelessly toss them aside. 

“It’s been a few years, alright,” you grunt, throwing an arm over your eyes to avoid looking at him in your vulnerable state. 

“A few years–” he stops, “Have you not–not since we last…” He trails off, the question dying in his mouth. 

You roll your eyes, “Of course, I have. Just–I haven’t had anyone go down on me in a while.” 

“Oh, darlin’,” he says it not in pity, but in a way that has your cunt seizing. Like he himself has waited too long for this moment. 

The first touch of Jake’s mouth on your pussy has fireworks exploding behind your eyes. There is no hesitance in his movements, not in the languid way his tongue strokes up your folds, not in how his fingers dig into your legs as he pulls you down closer towards him. Your breath jerks in your lungs as he dips his tongue in and drags it up to your clit. His moans vibrate throughout your body until you’re arching off the bed. 

God, Jake knows exactly where to put pressure, where to tease you. Your fingers cannot compare to the way his mouth moves on you, slow and anchored. He takes his time appreciating your taste and how you whine needily with every caress. Your hands fly to his head as he buries his tongue deeper into your cunt, collecting your juices and spreading it across your skin as he plants more kisses on your thighs. His mouth hones in on your clit as one finger slides into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so fucking tight, darlin’. Like a virgin.” 

Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes another one in. It’s been months since your last good fuck. 

You tighten around him again when he says, “God knows I’ve been in this pussy enough times before. Can’t wait to fill you up with my cock. Want to stuff you with my come.” 

“Jake,” you cry out as your eyes slide shut. An expletive leaves your lips as he begins leisurely sliding his fingers in and out of you while he sucks on the sensitive nub. 

It’s been so long. You’re so close. You could practically feel your orgasm clamoring to free itself. It’s so close but Jake doesn’t let you enjoy it that easily. 

He pulls his fingers out and climbs up to slip your dress above your head, using the fabric to keep your hands together as he ducks his head to pull your nipple into his mouth. “No bra, darlin’? You’re trying to get me to kill a man out there.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“All that bending over, you probably had people peeking on these pretty tits, sweetheart,” Jake growls, tightening his hold on your wrists. “Is that what you wanted, hm? Tease strangers just to get me jealous?”

Maybe. You turn your face away in lieu of responding. 

“You don’t need me jealous. You already have me. I would’ve fucked you if you just asked.”

“Go fuck yourself, Seresin.”

He laughs, “Missed this mouth. The things you say. The things you could do.” He kisses you again, and this time, there’s the tart tang of you on his tongue. His soaked fingers push back inside you and he traps every moan that leaves your lips. “So fucking wet for me. Could’ve had you warming my cock at the bar. Show all those guys who you belong to. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The mewls that escape your mouth are answer enough. The thought of him taking you in front of everyone, sitting on his lap with his cock buried inside you, has you clenching around his fingers again.

“Don’t come yet, darlin’. I want you falling apart on my cock. I’ve waited too long for this.” He drags his fingers out along with another protest from your throat. 

Jake finally releases your hands as he moves on top of you again. It’s straight out of your fantasies. This same image has plagued your every thought. When you’re alone at home and all you have are your fingers and this memory of him. You had imagined him pleasuring you so many times before that this feels like a fever dream. 

But Jake reassures you that he’s there with another kiss to your lips. The feeling is jarring, a delicious dose of reality. 

“Don’t think I can wait any more,” Jake pants, as he shoves off his pants. You tuck away a mental note that he goes commando. That’s new. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for so long, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah?” You smirk, confidence settling back. “How long?”

“Since I walked back into your bar that day and saw you again. All I could think about was kissing you stupid and bending you over the counter. Imagined how wet your pussy would be for me. Then again and again whenever I saw you at the bar, at the beach, driving you home. I’d stop the car and fuck you by the side of the road if you asked.” 

Shit, you bite your lip and stare up at him with hooded eyes. He seems to enjoy that because he drags his tongue across his teeth again. 

“But you’re no different, are you? I can still smell you in these sheets. Been touching yourself? Have you been thinking about me?” 

A scoff that sits on the tip of your tongue falls when he runs his hand through your hair. 

His gaze is loaded, pulling the truth from your lips rather than a poorly concocted lie. “Yes,” you confess, “been thinking about this right here. You on top of me.” 

“Shit, honey, I could’ve been here all along taking care of you.” Jake shakes his head. “I’m here now, going to make sure you feel real good. It’s been so long, I don’t know if I’ll even fit inside of you.”

Before you can tell him off for his cockiness, he’s pushing the tip in. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s big. You forgot how big he is. He pushes in slowly, sweat beading his forehead as his biceps flex as he tries to carefully ease into you. You know he’s doing his best not to hurt you, but all you want is to be full of him. 

You lift your hips up to meet him, legs curling around his torso. “Fuck, darlin’, don’t do that,” Jake groans. “I’m gonna come too fast.”

“Please, Jake,” you whimper. “Just wanna be full of you.”

Another pleased sound escapes him. He pushes all the way in until he can’t fit anymore of himself inside you. It’s mindblowing how big he is. It takes him a few more thrusts before he can bury himself completely inside of you, your pussy stretching to accomodate his length. 

“Fuck, condom,” he pales when he realizes. His cock twitches inside of you. 

Oh. Oh, he likes being inside you without it. 

“I’m on the pill,” you admit.

“But–”

You cannot have him leave you when it feels this good. “I’m fine. I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah, there’s been no one else.”

Those words catch you off guard but Jake is too distracted with fucking into you slowly. Your brain shortcircuits when he bends your knee so he can fuck into you deeper and harder. Your groans blend into a symphony in the quiet of your room, bouncing off the walls and echoing to amplify your pleasure. 

Jake presses into you, slow at first, like he wants to feel every inch of you around every inch of him. His mouth is everywhere, finding your lips, then trailing hot kisses across your chest. “Fuck, you feel so goddamn good, darlin’. So tight.” 

His voice breaks slightly as he tries to restrain himself from fucking too hard, too fast. He wants this to last, wants this to be as good for you as it is for him. 

“You were made for me,” Jake breathlessly whispers. It isn’t a question. It’s a prayer he speaks into an honest truth. The kind that you say in confessionals, a secret that only one other person knows. 

Your hips meet him greedily, chasing the friction and the stretch. He rocks harder inside of you at an angle that has you curving off the bed, the tip of his cock kissing the deepest parts of you. Every wet, desperate sound between your thighs interweaves with the shared moans and whimpers that fall from both your lips. 

You claw at his back, your nails scratching your own territorial lines down his back, red against his tan skin. The sting yanks another deep groan from his throat. 

“Do that again, sweetheart. Mark me. I’m yours.”

So you do, harder. Your fingers delving into the muscles of his back. He rewards you by snapping his hips forward, plunging himself so deep into you that you gasp. Everything feels like lightning striking the earth. 

“You like that? Like me ruining this pussy? No one else can have you like I do. I’ll ruin you for everyone else.” He says it like a promise, a threat. All you can do is nod, biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

His hand slips between you, thumb circling your clit again with a precision that reminds you how familiar he is with you. Everything that makes you crumble under his touch. 

It’s all too much. You can feel the blood climbing and rushing. His cock is dragging against your walls and his filthy, private thoughts sounding too loud in the cacophony of your moans. 

You feel it building fast. Your orgasm curls tight inside of you. 

“Come for me, darlin’. Make a mess on me. Let go.” 

You obediently listen. Your body trembles, your ass lifting off the mattress in your final chase, as he follows with an urgent groan, hips stuttering with him holding you close. The orgasm crashes over you in waves, dragging you under.

But Jake is quick to breathe more life into you, kissing you deeply as the last of his come paints your insides. You feel the warmth spill into you as he holds you tight, tattered breaths against your lips. 

Your chest heaves as you come down from your high. You’re a sticky mess. Your hair is a frazzled nest on top of your head, your skin feels clammy, and your pussy is dripping the evidence of his pleasure. But you’ve never felt more alive. 

Jake presses a kiss against the side of your head before he slowly pulls out with a groan. He rolls off your bed and wanders into the bathroom, coming back with a warm, damp cloth. You lie there as he litters kisses all over you, drawing a laugh from your lips, as he wipes you down carefully. 

“‘M gonna shower anyway,” you mumble.

“In case you were lazy,” Jake smirks.

You peel yourself off the bed and jump straight into the shower. The hot water cascades down your skin, stripping away the grime from your prior activities. Jake steps in behind you, his lips on the back of your shoulder as he scrubs you down with soap, massaging your tense shoulders and lingering around your breasts. 

His moves are purposeful. When his fingers slip between your legs again, you come apart a second time under his touch. 

By the time you tuck yourself into bed and Jake slides in to spoon you, your eyelids are heavy with a pleasant, sated sort of weariness, the kind you haven’t experienced in a while. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart” is the last thing you hear before sleep pulls you under. 

–

Waking up the next morning is easy. You feel sore in all the right places, but you feel satisfied. A sort of peace that you didn’t even realize you were missing. 

However, the regret washes over you all too fast. An overwhelming tide that pulls the rug out from under you. The weight of his arm across your middle and his face nuzzling into your hair as his light snores fill the room are reminders of what transpired. It’s proof of what you’ve just done. 

The one thing you told yourself you would never do again. 

Not after last time. 

You mutter a silent “fuck” to yourself. Calm down. It’s just Jake. This is a one-time thing and it will never happen again. Never. He’s going to leave again and not come back for a while, just like he always does. He’ll disappear from your life just like he did last time. 

Only this time, you won’t be pouring your heart out to him. You won’t be professing your love for him like a blind, lovesick fool. No matter how much your heart demands it of you. 

When you look down at him again, you observe how his long lashes brush against his cheeks. You run your fingers delicately over the stubble on his jaw. God, he’s fucking beautiful. 

The ache that haunts you from two years ago returns in full force. Your heart leaps in your chest as you swallow the realization thickly.

You’re still in love with Jake Seresin.

Two years have done nothing to diminish your feelings. It’s as if you buried them six feet under, only to dig them up again when he comes around. It’s a cycle that erodes the hope within you. 

Jake will leave again and you’ll have your bar in this small town. You’ll continue your life as if he never came back. As if you’ll never see him again. 

Seeing his smile and hearing his laugh in the bar. The echo of his overjoyed calls across the sand. You have just gotten used to having him around again. Not as yours, but almost adjacent. It’s a gut-wrenching thought. One you don’t let yourself dwell on too much as you painstakingly extract yourself from him,

The loss of his warmth is immediate. Your feet touch your cool floors to bring you back to the real world. Reaching for your t-shirt, you tug it on and pad downstairs to start the coffee. He always needs a cup with sugar and a splash of milk before he heads in to the station. 

You go through the motions numbly. Grabbing the instant coffee from the top shelf, filling your kettle with water, and then waiting. Jake never sleeps in too late and the clock on your wall signals that he will likely be up in the next ten to fifteen minutes. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch the kettle boil. The slow whistling and the smoke seeping into the air distract your mind from spiraling over what happened last night. You don’t want to think about what’s next for you and him. 

In fact, there is no you and him. 

You have work to get to. Restocking, ordering more supplies, figuring out bills for the end of the month. Then you have to work on Penny’s boat, which means you have to take it out to the yard and–

“Morning.” His voice is a low rumble behind you. That gravelly, break-of-dawn voice you once started your mornings with but now feels like a distant stranger. 

Your eyes flick to the wall again. He’s up earlier than usual.

“Coffee’s almost ready,” you say, opting not to turn around. God knows your resolve will falter the moment you see him. 

Jake doesn’t let your decision last for long as he saunters up to you. A strong arm winds around your waist to pull you close. He tucks your face into his chest and his lips find your temple in a tender kiss. 

He never plays fair.

He disregards your weak attempt to untangle yourself from him. “Missed you in bed,” he mumbles. Luckily, you’re saved from having to respond when the kettle screeches to completion. He moves to prepare his own cup of coffee. The only problem is that he keeps his arm around you as he navigates through your kitchen with too much familiarity. He finds the mug he gifted you a while back on the shelf above the sink, the sugar in your spice rack by the stove, and pulls the milk you always have in the right side of your fridge.

The entire time, he keeps his hold firmly around you. He maneuvers you around the kitchen with him as he works with one free hand. 

“Are you heading to work early?” He asks as he stirs his coffee. “I could drop you off and pick up my bike.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll drop you off at the station, then head to the bar. You can get your bike later.” 

You notice that he’s already dressed in the clothes from yesterday. He’s leaving. You know this already but seeing your worst concerns materialize still hurt. It’s mortifying how you’re still so hurt by something you’re already anticipating. 

Your eyes are glued to the buttons on his shirt, focusing on the one hanging on to a loose stitch. 

“Sweetheart.” There’s that drawl again. You hum in response, your eyes still fixated on his shirt. “Are you going to look at me at all this morning?”

Your throat dries. “Don’t feel like seeing your ugly mug this early,” you mutter with no bite.

Jake laughs and the sound is clear, resonating straight to your core. His chest rises as he does so, stretching the fabric across it even more. “Better sooner than later.” 

There is a split second of silence before you feel his fingers on your chin, drawing your face up to look at him. He searches your eyes for a moment, lips tightening at whatever he sees there, then he dips his head and places a soft kiss on your lips. 

You sigh into his mouth, tucking yourself closer in his hold. Your mouths move leisurely, soft in the early hours of the morning. There is no hurry in his movements, no agitation, nothing like last night. It’s as if you have all the time in the world to drown in each other’s company, quenching the parchness from two years’ worth of distance. He swallows your little whines and presses his fingers deeper into your hips. 

When his phone beeps, it’s like a cold splash of reality. He curses quietly against your mouth, reluctantly drawing away to yank his phone out and look at it. A deep sigh escapes him. “I have to go, darlin’.”

Oh. 

It’s bound to happen. You know this. So you nod quietly. “Yeah, let me get dressed and drive you over.” 

“Rooster’s picking me up.”

Right. “Oh, okay.”

Of course, he wouldn’t want an awkward drive with you, not after last night. His training is probably coming to an end soon, and he’s going to be deployed elsewhere, far away from the island. 

You avoid his eyes as you busy yourself putting things away. You hear him sigh again before he comes creeping back up behind you, his arm slipping around your waist again. There’s the feel of his mouth against the back of your head. “I’ll catch you later at the bar, hm?”

Unlikely. “Yep.”

“We need to talk.”

No, we do not. You do not need to rehash this conversation again. You’re a grown woman and you know when it’s time to let go. This is one of those times. Instead of saying this, you say, “Okay.”

He pauses for a moment, waits for something that never comes. Another sigh. You feel his lips on top of your head before he draws away from you, leaving a chill in his absence. The front door opens and closes, and you hear the crunching of tires on gravel growing distant by the second.

You slump against your kitchen counter, releasing a deep breath. This is fine. You have a lot to do today, so what’s an early start to the day?

Somehow, you keep your mind mostly off that dread that’s sitting in the pit of your stomach. You tell Andy not to come in too early so you have more to do to keep your hands occupied. Your arms are throbbing by the time you finish the prep work, and the real grunt work of running the bar hasn’t even started. 

Right as you’re fixing up the final touches on the bar before you open, the door swings open and you’re about to tell whoever it is that you’re not open for another… 5 minutes. It’s been a long day. However, your words vanish when you see it’s Nat by the door.

She pulls her sunglasses up on top of her head as you round the bar to greet her. 

“Nat! It’s been too long!” You wrap your arms around her in a deep hug. She laughs and returns the embrace. “What are you doing here? Where have you been? Tell me everything.”

Nat left long before Jake did. It’s been years since you properly saw her. She is your favorite person from the crowd of Top Gun graduates so far. Fierce, fearless, and fucking fabulous. 

She grins, “Slow down, crazy. I am here for fun, I have been in a confidential location abroad that I will personally never return to. And yes, I’m doing great, how are you? How was sex with Hangman last night?”

“That’s great! And—” You freeze. “What? How do you—”

“I fucking knew it,” she hisses, laughing and clapping to herself. “I just knew when I saw him and his distracted ass that it was you again. It’s always you, isn’t it?”

You scowl. This reunion is no longer welcome at your bar, at least not with this topic of conversation. “No idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, come on. I walk into base today and Hangman’s fumbling over a guide he’s been teaching for fucking years? His recruits are convinced that the legendary Hangman is losing it and finally ready to retire.” 

You ignore the pinch in your heart at the mention of him. “I don’t want to talk about him, I want to hear about you.”

Nat offers a sympathetic look and it makes you feel shittier. “Alright, fine. Let’s sit and chat if you have time. I know you’ll get your crowd soon.”

That gets your spirits up as you two settle down. “First of all, who comes here for fun?”

–

Nat decides to abandon you when you can barely get two words out to her before a customer is flagging you down at the bar. The evening rush picked up fast and you can only send her apologetic looks that she waves off. She drifts over to the pool table where the recruits she met earlier are hanging around. 

Surprisingly, you haven’t yet spotted Jake in the crowd. It’s bitter to realize that, but it also comes as a relief because you’re not ready for the “I have to go and leave you again and cannot commit to you” conversation. This would be the third time – fourth if you include the tragic rejected “I love you” two years ago. 

You would think a girl would learn her lesson. 

You’re grateful that the groups keep you busy. Plenty of familiar faces – some coming in from out of town for a new assignment or training, and others, like Nat, who are apparently here for “fun.” You’re still not entirely sure what that entails when there’s barely anything to do around here. 

By the time the last customers leave and you’re wiping down the last table clean, you’re exhausted down to your bones. It is the kind of exhaustion you needed so you wouldn’t wallow in your self-pitying, woe-is-me thoughts before sleeping tonight. You had even sent Andy home early, preferring to do the grunt work yourself. That man’s been having a great week with your misery.

When you hear the front door creak open, you automatically say, “Sorry, we’re closed.”

“Even for a regular like me?”

Your head whips up to see Jake standing there, weariness evident in the shadows under his eyes. “Oh, you’re here late. What are you doing here?”

“Told you we needed to talk.”

Crap. Your heart drops to your feet at the thought. You drop the dishrag on the counter and cross your arms. It’s a small thing, but you feel more protected. A fence that separates the two of you.  “Look, I don’t really want to have this conversation again. It’s fine. I’m an adult, I don’t need you to give me the talk every time you fuck me and leave. I get it.” 

He grits his teeth and sighs. “That’s not why I’m here. I mean, that’s not what I was going to say.”

You tilt your head in question.

“Can you just come over here so we can properly talk?”

Chatting with him from this distance when he’s about to “break up” with you again is safe. Chatting with him with zero space for you to break into an escape between you feels like another incoming regret.

“I’m good.”

He closes his eyes for a second, exasperation radiating off him in waves. “Please don’t be difficult tonight. I just want to talk.” 

Part of you wants to be difficult, just to show him how hard it is to be with him when all he does is push you away. But you see the desperation in his eyes and you cave. You cave so easily. 

You go around the counter, maintaining a good two feet of distance from him. He looks at you, pained again, but lets it slide. 

“I’ve been thinking about us.” 

Frowning, you look at him in confusion. 

Jake stops, seeming to mull over his words. “I’ve been thinking about what to say to you, but I don’t think anything I say could make up for all the time I’ve hurt you.” He swallows thickly. “This time—it’s not like last time. I’m not here to fuck around and leave.”

You take a deep breath. “Jake, you really don’t have to. Look, I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

He quickly interjects, “That’s what I’m trying to say. I don’t want you to take care of yourself. I want you to let me take care of you.” 

Uncertainty only sinks deeper into you. 

“I’ve left you behind so many times before, sweetheart. It’s been a fucking miserable two years, you know. I’ve been trying to avoid coming here because it feels like all my mistakes are rooted here—”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’ve always known that he has regrets, but you never thought he’d look at you and see a mistake.

“That came out wrong,” he huffs, running his fingers through his wind-swept hair. “My mistakes are not you. You— you’re the best thing to happen to me. My mistake is that I let you go time and time again. When you told me you loved me two years ago, I ran. When I’m in the air, I feel fucking invincible. But that time, I couldn’t even say the words you wanted me to say back. I was scared shitless. I didn’t want to disappoint you. We had a good thing, I thought that it was the only way I could satisfy you. I couldn’t guarantee that you would be happy with me. So I ran. I ran from what could’ve been a great thing between us. 

“And being back here now, it just made me realize how much I miss all this, you. You’re all I ever wanted, and all I did was push you away because I was a coward. I want you to know that I want to try this time. I want to do right by you. I’m not leaving you again. I want to wake up every morning with you and go to sleep knowing you’re the last thing I see. I want to make you smile and laugh, but I also want to challenge you and tease you. Fucking highlight of my day when I get you all red and annoyed.” 

You roll your eyes at him but can’t help the smile on your lips. That elation that’s been concealed so far deep is climbing up your chest and curling around your heart.  

“When I came back here, I thought you would’ve… found someone else. Someone better. But there you were – same as always. Even after I hurt you all those years ago, you still smiled at me and welcomed me back. I want to say that you’ve always been my better half, but let’s be honest. You’ve always been a whole – you’ve taken up the entirety of my mind all this time.

“I wanted to wait until everything was settled before you know, we slept together again. I wanted to take you out to dinner and treat you right. Court you properly. Then you went ahead and showed me what I was missing, what I could lose when all those guys were flirting with you. God knows I’m a fucking asshole but I’m an asshole that loves you.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It was implied in his words, tucked hidden between the vowels and the consonants. But there’s something about hearing it for the first time. The words that you’ve been waiting for so long, words you didn’t think you would ever hear. Your heart is in your throat as he goes on.

“I confirmed my full-time position as an instructor at the station here. It’ll be mostly for special detachments, and I’ll be mostly here. I might be deployed from time to time, but this will be my home base.” 

“You’re saying–”

“I’m saying that I’m staying, darlin’. I’m staying for you.”

All the words you had planned to say remain caught on your tongue. Your mouth is opening and closing, but nothing you say could even begin to express how you feel. 

Jake smirks, “Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to give me a kiss? Thank me for all the hard work I did?” 

Even in the most romantic moments, he proves to still be an insufferable piece of shit. But you laugh, roll your eyes, and come up to him. 

“I’ll give you a kiss and a kick to your ass for putting me through all this. God, you owe me a really nice, expensive dinner. I know a good place in the city for that. Actually, maybe a lot expensive dinners for the years you put me through hell.” 

“Whatever your heart desires, sweetheart.” 

“You said you love me?”

“That should come as no surprise to you. You’ve always been the smarter one.”

“Yeah, all that time in the air probably sucked all the oxygen out of your brain.”

He laughs, kissing you deeply. “God, fucking love that smart mouth of yours, even better when it’s wrapped around my–”

Let’s end it there and say that you lived happily ever after. 

Or at least, as happy as you could be with Jake and that unbearable mouth of his. 

The one you love most, of course, when it’s telling you he loves you.

[orellazalonia]

Heart First, Sanity Later

Summary: You, a dangerously chaotic genius with the common sense of a soggy spoon, somehow captures the heart of Bucky Barnes. Despite the constant emotional whiplash, raccoon-related injuries, and deeply cursed inventions, Bucky finds himself falling hard… somewhere between a Capri Sun intervention robot and a vent-related rescue. (Bucky Barnes x Avengers!reader)

Disclaimer: This was based on this post I came across from @ghouljams earlier. Please let me know if you want me to remove any of the information you listed here.

Word Count: 3.4k+

A/N: I had a blast writing this and I am begging on my hands and knees that other people like this as well so I can write more of unhinged reader. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist | Sequel | Earth’s Mightiest Headache Masterlist

Bucky didn’t mean to get attached. In fact, he very specifically meant not to get attached to you.

You, with your wide smile and increasingly concerning decision-making skills. You, who walked into a briefing ten minutes late with a Slurpee, claimed you got “time-displaced,” and then flawlessly identified the year, model, and VIN of a car from a blurry photo Tony handed out. “That’s a 1972 Chevelle SS,” You’d said casually. “But the rims are from a later model. 1976, I think.”

He stared at you. Everyone did.

You slurped. “What?”

Later, Bucky watched you put your phone in the fridge, forget about it, then ask him if he’d “seen a text from 7-Eleven recently.” You didn’t even seem high. That was the worst part. You just… existed like that. All the time.

A living contradiction. A walking cosmic joke. The human version of a browser with 72 tabs open, one playing music, none labeled, and all of them about wildly different topics ranging from “theoretical wormhole stability” to “can ducks feel shame.”

And the worst part? You were insanely good at your job.

When it came to the field, you moved like you’d choreographed every punch in advance. Like your brain hit a switch and rerouted all the loose marbles into sheer precision.

But outside of that? Absolute chaos.

One time you asked if the word “colonel” was a typo because you’d only ever read it.

"Why is it spelled like 'colon-el'?” You’d asked Bucky, eating popcorn with a throwing knife for apparently no reason. “Like. You’re telling me we all just agreed to ignore the 'L'?”

He blinked slowly. “Yes.”

“Sounds fake but okay.”

He wanted to strangle you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to wrap you in a blanket and take you to a doctor because no one should eat four bananas and not know why their stomach hurts. (“I thought they were like��� nature’s snack bars!” You’d wailed from the floor. “Why does nature lie?”)

Still, there was something undeniably magnetic about you. Something that made Bucky keep finding excuses to be around you. Something that made him bite back a smile when you declared, with utter confidence, that “Citizen Kane” was a man’s full name and you “felt bad for him growing up with that.”

Sam had to leave the room. Steve looked like he aged five years. Bucky? He just leaned back in his chair and muttered, “You’re so lucky you’re pretty.”

You beamed. “I know, right?”

And that was just the beginning.

-

Bucky knew it the moment you turned to him in the middle of a high-stakes infiltration and whispered:

“Hey. Do you think raccoons ever get embarrassed?”

He froze mid-step, crouched beside you behind a cluster of storage crates, both of you watching a Hydra compound patrol pace along the wall ahead. Guns primed. Comms live. Two minutes to breach.

You blinked at him, eyes wide and totally serious about the question in the entirely inappropriate setting.

“What?” He hissed.

You frowned thoughtfully, like he was the weird one. “They have those little hands, right? Like… what if one drops its snack in front of another raccoon. Is that, like, raccoon shame? Do they feel judged?”

Bucky stared. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating. It had been a long week after all.

Then you added, “Anyway, two guards approaching. They’ll pass each other in about four seconds. I can take the left. You want the one with the scar?”

You didn’t even wait for an answer. Your body vanished into the shadows, clean and calculated. Three seconds later, both guards were unconscious and being gently rolled into the bushes like unwanted pizza boxes.

Bucky just stood there, breathing. You terrified him but not in the way enemies did. No, that would be too simple. Because he could fight Hydra, take a bullet, disarm a bomb, but you?

You were something else. A walking contradiction.

You once tripped over your own shoelaces while explaining quantum theory, then beat four highly trained operatives unconscious with a clipboard. You called a Glock a “grippy lil’ pew stick” but recited the Geneva Convention word-for-word because you “liked bedtime reading.”

And tonight was no different.

By the time the mission was done, the intel recovered, and the building cleared, Bucky was sore, bruised, and fully convinced that he was doomed. Because somewhere between the absurd commentary, the flawless fighting, and the way you wiped blood from your brow and grinned at him like you weren’t covered in chaos, he felt it.

That thing. The awful, nauseating, heart-clutching feeling.

Affection.

It hit him in the middle of your post-mission debrief, which mostly consisted of you sitting on the quinjet floor, drinking chocolate milk out of a thermos and recounting the entire op like it was a cute story you were telling children.

“And then I was like, Bam! right to the neck, and he just went down like a sack of sad potatoes. Did you see that? You saw that, right, Buck? I did the thing with the kick!”

He didn’t answer. He was looking at you like you’d grown a second head or like how you were the only thing stuck in his head these days. God, you were awful.

You had blood on your elbow and half your gear undone. You were sprawled out on the floor like a sleep-deprived gremlin, and when you looked up at him and smiled, like he was the only person in the world who mattered… He was done. Gone.

“You okay there, Grumpypants?” You asked.

“I think I might hate you,” He muttered, sitting down beside you.

You grinned, bumping his shoulder with yours. “That’s fair. I’m an acquired taste. Like oysters. Or war crimes.”

He barked a laugh before he could stop it. You looked so proud.

“I’m serious,” He said, sobering. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day. You don’t take anything seriously.”

You just stared at him for a moment, and then, quietly, you said, “I take you seriously.”

The jet went quiet.

And Bucky sat very, very still because somehow, that hit harder than any mission ever had.

You weren’t just funny. Or weird. Or brilliant in a way that made his head hurt.

You were kind. Kind in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Like you saw through the Winter Soldier and the scowl and the kill count, and you still chose to sit beside him, sipping chocolate milk and talking about raccoon shame.

And Bucky Barnes, world-weary assassin, trauma-laden super-soldier, turned to you and realized:

He was fucked.

In love with a person who once confidently said “quinoa” was pronounced “kin-oh-ah” and didn’t believe him when he corrected you.

You looked up from your thermos. “You’re doing the staring thing again. Am I bleeding from the ear?”

“No,” Bucky said, voice low. “You’re just…”

“Sexy?” You offered helpfully.

“…Terrifying.”

You winked. “Same difference.”

And Bucky Barnes, against all logic, reason, and survival instinct, knew he was already in too deep.

-

The next mission had gone off without a hitch… at least, for everyone except Bucky.

A few cuts here, a couple of bruises there, but nothing too serious. At least, that’s what he told himself as he sat on the edge of the quinjet, feeling the burn in his shoulder from a bullet graze. But the moment you walked into the medbay with a roll of bandages in your hand, it was like everything inside him twisted in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Okay, Bucky. Time to let the master do her magic,” You said, flashing that grin of yours, the one that always made his heart do weird, involuntary things.

Bucky blinked, trying to shake the disoriented feeling. “You’re the one who got shot today. Why am I the one getting patched up?”

“Because I’m immortal,” You said matter-of-factly. “Also, I’m not bleeding anywhere you can see, so that’s a bonus.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’re immortal?”

You sat down beside him, rolling your sleeves up. “No, but I like to pretend I am. You know, like a cooler superhero.”

He winced slightly as you poked at his side. “That’s what I’m dealing with, huh?”

“You love it,” You teased, squeezing out some antiseptic onto a cotton pad.

“You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you out of a plane for this,” Bucky muttered, though he couldn’t stop the faint grin from tugging at his lips.

“Not gonna lie, I’d be mad if you did,” You admitted, gently dabbing at his side. “Also, I’d haunt you. I know how to haunt people. I’ve read a lot of books about ghosts.”

He chuckled, despite himself. “Of course you have.”

“Oh, absolutely. I even have a theory about why the Titanic sank, and it’s completely different from the official one. But I’m telling you right now, it’s not what they say.”

Bucky glanced over at you, eyebrow raised. “This I gotta hear.”

You leaned closer, lowering your voice dramatically as if revealing state secrets. “Okay, so. It wasn’t an iceberg that caused the sinking. It was actually the government trying to erase all evidence of the giant squid they were experimenting on, and they blamed it on the iceberg to cover up the real cause.”

Bucky blinked, unsure whether you were serious or not. “Wait, what?” He asked slowly.

You looked at him deadpan. “You didn’t hear the rumors? They found footage, you know. The squid was huge. It even had tentacles.”

He stared at you, speechless.

"Anyway," You continued, as if you hadn’t just suggested the world’s greatest conspiracy, "What we do know is that my bandage technique is flawless. See this?" You lifted a corner of the bandage to show him a perfect wrap around his side.

Bucky blinked. "Did you just distract me with a giant squid theory while you patched me up?"

“Absolutely.” You beamed at him. “Works every time. Just don’t tell anyone you’re in love with me because I’m not responsible for any heart attacks.”

Bucky froze, his heartbeat suddenly in his throat.

You were still so nonchalant. Still so you, so damn confident and so sure of yourself. It took everything in him not to lean in and kiss you right there.

But then, you looked up at him, and for the briefest moment, that smile of yours softened. “You’re good, Bucky,” You said quietly. “You’ve been through more shit than any of us. But you’re still here. That’s something, you know?”

His chest tightened.

“And you know what?” You continued, your voice so much softer now, like a quiet reassurance. “You don’t have to be a soldier all the time. Sometimes, you can just be Bucky.”

He swallowed, looking at you. “And what about you?”

“Oh, me? I’m a mess,” You shrugged, finally looking away, as if it was no big deal. “I’m just here to make the chaos look cute.”

Your eyes flicked back to him, that familiar teasing glint in them. “That’s my secret. You like it.”

Bucky chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He wanted to say something, wanted to admit something. That little voice in his head kept screaming at him to just say it already, but he was scared. He was scared of how deep you had burrowed under his skin, of how easy it was to forget everything else when you were around.

Instead, he just leaned forward and cupped your face, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You’re… something else, you know that?”

You blinked at him in surprise, your lips parted, as if trying to process the sudden shift in the air. For a moment, there was a palpable tension between the two of you, like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for one of you to do something.

But then, in your usual way, you broke it, shrugging with a grin. “I know. You’re welcome.”

Bucky’s heart did a weird flip, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to truly relax, just a little. He didn’t want to admit it. Not yet. Not even to himself.

But as you leaned in to finish wrapping his side, your hand brushing his skin lightly, he knew he was already in way too deep.

-

The next incident started with a toaster. Not even a cool toaster. Just a boring, silver Stark-issued kitchen appliance that you were suspiciously proud of. You’d taken it apart and rebuilt it but “better.” No one asked you to. No one gave you permission. You just did it.

“Now it sings the SpongeBob theme when your toast is done,” You explained, beaming as you held up a slice of whole wheat like it was a golden ticket.

Bucky stared at you. “You tampered with government property.”

“Enhanced.” You corrected. “And before you ask, no, I will not apologize. This is the future.”

Then it sang. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?” BWEEEEEP - Toast done.

Bucky looked like he was praying for divine intervention. “You’re gonna get us all court-martialed over this.”

Two hours later, you were banned from the kitchen, which didn’t stop you from relocating to the common area with your newest project: building what you claimed was a “mousetrap but for anxiety.”

It was made of pipe cleaners, glow sticks, and what might’ve been a dismantled Roomba.

“I call her Deborah,” You said, gently stroking it. “She senses emotional instability and gives you a juice box.”

As if on cue, it whirred over to Bucky, bumped into his leg, and slowly offered him a Capri Sun.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m not drinking that.”

“Then she thinks you’re too far gone. She’s very wise.”

Steve walked in, surveyed the scene, and simply turned around without speaking. He didn’t even ask anymore.

Later that night, Bucky caught you in the hallway attempting to climb into the ceiling with a flashlight between your teeth and a jar of pickles under your arm.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, exhausted.

You paused halfway into a vent, dropping the flashlight briefly. “Depends. Do you believe in ceiling gremlins?”

“No.”

“Then I’m doing taxes.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Please. I’m begging you. Come down.”

You stared at him for a long moment, then slowly slid back out like a raccoon emerging from a trash can. “Okay. But only because you asked nicely and not because I got stuck.”

You had absolutely gotten stuck. And the worst part? He was smitten.

Every time you did something completely absurd, which was always, he found himself watching you a little too long, smiling a little too much, wondering what the hell you were going to do next and why it made his chest ache in a weirdly pleasant way.

Even now, covered in ceiling dust and holding a pickle jar, you looked up at him with that infuriatingly endearing grin.

“You’re in love with me,” You stated confidently.

Bucky blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You popped a pickle in your mouth. “You’ve got that look. Like a grumpy cat who accidentally cuddled someone and doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I do not look like-“

“It's okay. You don’t have to say it.” You patted his chest affectionately. “Your body language screams ‘emotionally unavailable man finds chaotic cryptid and feels things.’”

“I am not emotionally unavailable.”

“You have a go bag, Bucky.”

“…That’s standard protocol.”

“Your toothbrush is still in the packaging.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. You’d won. Again.

“You’re gonna kiss me one day,” You said as you walked past him, pickle jar under one arm, flashlight in your other hand. “And when you do, I’m gonna be so smug you’ll try to throw yourself off the building.”

Bucky stood there in the hall, alone, heart doing its dumb little thudding thing. He hated you. He adored you. And he was never getting that toothbrush insult out of his head.

-

When the big moment happened, It wasn’t a big mission. It wasn’t even a real mission. It was just supposed to be recon.

And yet somehow, you were sitting on the floor of a dusty, abandoned warehouse with a concussion, holding a broken walkie-talkie like it personally betrayed you.

“Okay, but in my defense,” You slurred slightly, “I didn’t know the raccoon had a knife.”

Bucky stared at you, expression unreadable, as blood dripped slowly from your temple.

“You ran into an unmarked building alone, set off three alarms, fell through a skylight, and got jumped by wildlife.”

You held up a finger. “Armed wildlife.”

He ran a hand down his face.

“I swear to God, you are one poorly timed pun away from getting locked in a broom closet until the end of time.”

You blinked up at him. “Kinky.”

He turned away so fast you could almost hear his brain blue-screen. “Jesus Christ.”

But when he looked back at you: your lip bloodied, eyes dazed, hair full of insulation from where you’d crashed through the ceiling like a chaotic Christmas angel, something in his chest snapped.

You were always like this. Impossible. Endearing. Brilliant in the most horrifying ways. A human Wikipedia article with a death wish and a spark in your eyes that made him forget, just for a second, that the world was awful.

And that spark was flickering. Just a little. And he hated it.

“You can’t keep doing this,” He began, voice tight. “You can’t keep treating your life like it’s expendable.”

You blinked slowly. “That sounds fake. I’m clearly immortal.”

“I’m serious.” He crouched in front of you, fists clenched. “You run into every situation like you’re bulletproof, and you’re not. One day, I’m not gonna be there to drag your dumbass out of a flaming building or disarm a guy who has a bazooka made of forks or- or whatever the hell today was!”

“It was a raccoon with a grudge.”

“That’s not a thing!”

You stared at him in silence for a beat, then said, very softly, “You’re worried about me.”

He froze.

“I’m always worried about you,” He said, almost too quiet to hear. “You think I wake up every day wondering what country I’ll have to fly to because you thought jumping off a roof would ‘probably be fine’ if you landed in a bush?!”

You tilted your head. “It was a very fluffy bush.”

”I love you, you absolute menace!”

Silence. You blinked. Then he blinked. Somewhere in the warehouse, a raccoon chittered menacingly.

“…You love me?” You echoed, like he’d just said he wanted to marry a zucchini.

Bucky looked like he might actually combust. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“Say it like what?”

“Like I love you. Which I do. But I was gonna do it after, like… dinner. Or when you weren’t bleeding.”

“Is this why you made me tea every time I electrocuted myself?”

“Yes!”

“And why you punched that guy who called me a liability?”

“Also yes!”

“And why you didn’t kill me when I installed motion sensors in the hallway and forgot to tell anyone?”

“I almost killed you.”

You were quiet for a long moment. Then: “Okay.”

He blinked. “Okay?”

You nodded, still loopy but smiling now. “Okay. I love you too.”

He stared. “You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, why else would I let you eat the last cookie that one time? Or give Deborah full permission to follow you around and scan your emotional damage like a clingy Roomba?”

He laughed, just once, short and stunned.

You leaned forward and poked his chest with one finger. “Also, I have a very deep fondness for emotionally repressed war criminals. It’s kind of my thing.”

Bucky groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet. You’re in love with me.”

“I’m regretting it deeply.”

“No you’re not.” You smiled that crooked, chaotic smile that had ruined his life in the best way.

And despite everything, the dust, the blood, the deeply traumatized raccoon now watching you both from the shadows, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was gentle. Just for a second. As if to say, Yes. You’re chaos incarnate. But you’re mine.

When he pulled back, it was silent for a moment. Both of you looking in each other’s eyes before you whispered, “Did you just kiss me in front of a knife raccoon?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, already regretting all his life choices. “God help me. I did.”

[ms-demeanor]

So you've said you use your personal computer for work stuff, I got a question. I'm approaching a similar situation and I know you're as paranoid as I am (probably more) about privacy and such. So how do you balance that need for privacy with a computer that handles work things? I'd like to use this device for some of my stuff too, but also I need it for work. How can I keep the two separate? How do you?

Literally by uninstalling the agent. If the agent isn't installed on my computer there's nothing they can see except anything that might happen to be visible when you share your screen.

Before Gary sold the business this was easier because I basically never shared my screen for anything, now I share my screen a lot and a combination of that, the fact that this is my personal computer, and that I have (checks notes) 24 windows with 400+ tabs, this has led to me scrambling to switch to a work appropriate tab when I accidentally clicked into the cryptpad document for Alien Space Sluts instead of into the shared word document about company culture.

What I've started doing is strictly policing tab groups, I've removed the "anarchist resources" folder from my bookmarks toolbar, and I make sure that I empty the search bar before I share my screen. If I'm feeling SUPER paranoid or I'm going to be in a meeting where it would be catastrophic to share the wrong tab I'll use a different browser (I've got 4 or 5 installed browsers because yeah sometimes it's a better idea to use Opera - which is like putting on a nice button down shirt and a pair of khakis - instead of Firefox - which is like wearing a crop top with a pentagram on it over cutoff shorts and fishnets in terms of my general formality and history of sharing ass pics in cutoff shorts and fishnets in each browser.

I did also change the placeholder title from "Alien Space Sluts" to "Alien Space Story" so that the acronym is still ASS but there's now no chance of a tab header reading SPACE SLUTS if I'm recording my screen.

I did also bury my porn folder deep in a collection of nested folders.

But almost all of what I do for work is browser-based, so I can get away with a lot of separation just by using the more Formal browsers for work and uninstalling the RMM agent when I'm not actively using it.

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[lostinlovingrevery]

Entangle

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

Part 2 of Unraveling

He can't let you go without returning the favor

A/N: Lol idk why that glory hole fic has been haunting me. anyway here's part 2. may or may not be thinking of a part 3 already.... also this is fairly tame compared to my other smut but my smut feels rusty lately so !!!!!

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected piv, a little bit of a size kink im ngl, car sex, RIDING DICK!!!!!! logan likes to chat during sex lol, a tad breast play but not really, smoking, almost-creampie, maybe a tad of logan being a little obsessed with reader?

No good deed goes unpunished

Actually, no good deed goes unrewarded.

Logan just couldn’t let you go, not after that. Maybe he was an old pervert but his first taste of you and he was addicted. He had no qualms of admitting to you that it was him on the other side of the wall- but by the look of your face, you already knew. It remained unspoken, but there was tension in the air.  

“You’ve been begging me for a ride for a while now.” He says in a low voice, a small smirk growing on his face at the implication of his words. He placed a hand against the wall behind you, towering over you and observing you like prey. 

Your mouth fell open, and you stammered, your pretty eyes were blinking quickly- as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He watched you glance down, and he could only imagine what you were picturing. 

He knew you enjoyed what you did to him in there- the way your tongue and lips wrapped around him. The hazy, unfocused look in your eyes that told him you were still pent up- the sweet, sweet scent of you was flooding his nose and making him more and more irritable that he wasn’t currently buried balls deep inside you at that moment. Your precious little heart was beating out of your chest.

He could give you so much more.

“I have…to see if I can get off.” You barely whispered, your voice caught in your throat. You couldn’t speak the way he was looking at you. 

“I’ll wait.” He raised a brow, staring down at you. You could barely hear him due to the chatter and music of the bar. A whole world was happening around you, but you could only focus on Logan.

The older man you have developed a crush on since he became a regular- not that you would admit it, or tell anyone. You liked his stoic, grumpy demeanor. His cute little glasses, and the small smiles that seemed reserved only for you. It gave you butterflies when you could draw it out of him. A warm compliment and a gentle touch of his hand and you’d see his ears flush red and just a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

You wondered, did he use that naughty thing in the bathrooms regularly- and by chance you were the lucky one to get a taste of the mysterious man?

Or did he go in, knowing that you were about to try it for the first time?

His hand came down from the wall, his index finger tucking under your chin and lifting it up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

“I’ll be in the car.” He says, removing his hand and turning away from you. 

You could barely watch him walk away, dropping your head as your eyes stared at his back. He entered the bar, and from the hall, you could see him pull out his wallet and pay his tab. 

When he disappeared from your view, that’s when you went to look for your boss. An excuse on your lips of not feeling well. Apparently, you weren’t good at hiding your feelings. Your boss noticed you did seem off, a certain fluster about your demeanor- better go home, get some rest.

“Slow now, darling.”

He cooed at you, hands holding onto your hips as you lowered down onto his cock. A small whine escaped, 

“I know, you can take it baby-” He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your neck and collarbone, his hand moved to rub your back soothingly. “You did such a good job earlier- Couldn’t let you get away without returning the favor.”

You thought he was big before- but now was a whole different story. He stretched you open in the most pleasurable way, a stinging feeling that slowly melted into something more. Making you feel fuller than you ever felt. It had been awhile for you after all. 

You joined him in the back of the limo, which he fortunately had parked in the far corner of the parking lot, where no light, and no other cars sat. You just hoped no nosy drunks or cops would show up, knocking on windows or shining lights inside and catching you and Logan in the act. You already never done this before, hooking up, hooking up with an older man, an older man that had been your customer for the last 4 months.

He was all ready for you. Sitting in the backseat, his legs spread and his cock stood erect. He was slowly stroking it and fuck even though you had been drooling all over it just 20 minutes ago, you wanted more. 

He had other ideas in mind. 

Made you completely undress, pulling you into his lap where his cock rested heavy against your belly. His hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all spit and tongue that made you moan and sent shivers down your spine. He would nip at your bottom lip, and then your jaw, and down to your neck, before going even lower and sucking on your nipples, his thumb rubbing circles into the one that his lips neglected. 

Once you were whining, grinding over his cock and soaking it with your arousal, his hands grabbed your hips, lifting you up and carefully brought you down over him. 

He watched with delight of your every expression as you came undone on his cock. Lowering yourself inch by inch, small gasps, quivering lips, your eyes squeezed shut. His hands soothed over your thighs. 

“You know what a pretty girl you are darling?” He purrs gently, “Whatchu doing out here with an old man like me?” 

Your hands tightened around his shoulders. You could barely think, as you nearly bottomed out on top of him. You opened your eyes, small pants escaping you. “I…I like you.” You managed. 

For the first time, Logan was the talker between you two. Normally, the nights he comes in- you’re filling the quiet between you with conversation. Anything and everything you could think of, whatever it is that would make him grunt in response, occasionally say his own opinion, or a funny remark about the topic that would make you laugh- louder than you probably should, the remark probably not being quite that funny, but you couldn’t help it. Anytime he was around and you felt like a teenage girl with her first crush, pulling out all the cheesy, stupid ways of flirting. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, playfully shoving his arm, 

Something worked though, now that you’re dumb on his cock. 

A small laugh escapes him. “Yeah, you like me, sweetheart?” 

A small nod, and his smile grew wider. A small thrust of his hips, and you were filled to the hilt with him. Your mouth fell open, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning in closer. You could smell a mix of his cologne and natural musk- and it made you even more dizzy. 

“What do you like about me, hm?” 

You started to raise your hips, your weight falling on your knees as you circle over his tip, and you brought yourself back down, filling yourself with him again.

“Damn-” He hissed. His hands came to grip your ass, supporting you as you continue to raise your hips up and down. 

You wanted to answer his question- tell him everything you thought about him. How handsome you thought he is, how endearing his quiet nature and subtle self was. However, his cock was just the only thing you could think about. 

“Cocks got you all dumb huh?” His tone was filled with amusement. You lolled your head around, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. 

“You….You’re nice…” You murmured. 

“Nice?” 

A warm, deep chuckle sent a shock down your spine.  

“I’m not a very nice man, love. If I was, I wouldn’t be fucking you.”

The stretch melted into something more- warmth flooding through your body, down into your limbs, fingers and toes, and sent you spiraling. Your head fell onto his shoulder, searching for more warmth- more comfort that seemed an endless feeling being so close to him. Your hips began moving of their own accord, your body seeking for the pleasure- while your mind became static, mouth hanging open- drool slowly escaping down your lip. 

“Fuck you feel so good darling-” He hummed. He began thrusting up into you, letting you set the pace. “So damn warm, and wet. Been eager for this, haven’t you?”

“Mhm…” You barely responded. “You feel so good Logan…” 

A soft gasp escaped him, a small scoff of disbelief. He couldn’t tell you how long it been for him, since he had something so sweet- and you, fuck you were something else. He called you his favorite girl for your pretty smiles and nice compliments and the fact that you served him as much whiskey as he wanted. Now though, as he gets a taste of burying himself deep in your cunt, watching you become limp against him because his cock just felt that good. You were more than just his favorite. 

You were going to be his obsession. 

His hands firmly gripped your ass, as he pushed his hips down to the edge of the seat, leaning back onto the leather cusion of the limo seat he began mercilessly thrusting up into you. 

A chorus of whines and moans filled his ears. He could feel your heavy pants on his neck- your nails dug so deep into his shirt that he could feel the divots you were pressing into his back. Each thrust, your cunt got tighter around him, squeezing him so hard as if you were trying to keep him from pulling out. With the way you were whimpering in his ear, you probably were. 

Thank god you sucked him off earlier. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to last this long. 

Each thrust, as he drilled into your pussy sent you in another world. You felt that warmth in your belly, rising higher and higher as he angled himself into you, listening to your moans grow louder and making sure to hit that spot that seemed to make you happiest. 

Says he isn’t nice, but look how he’s taking care of me

That’s what you thought to yourself, closing your mouth as you realized you have drooled onto his shirt. You never felt this good, so comfortable, and warm. When you were talking to Angela earlier about “living a little”, you didn’t expect the night to turn out like this.

At least you can go brag about it later.

“C’mon darling-” He turns his head, lips pressed against your ear. “I wanna feel that pretty pussy cum all over this cock.” 

“Oh, Logan!” You cried out, his words hit the final nail- sending you off into fireworks. Your hands scratched at his shirt, nearly ripping the fabric apart, you buried your face into his neck. Sobs wracked your body as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over you- Logan ceaseless as he continued fucking you through it. Your limbs were frozen, taking every single thrust without complaint as he slams into you. 

A loud grunt, “where d’ya want it baby?” He groans. You could barely respond, hanging onto him with what little energy you had left. He moaned, just barely pulling out in time for ropes of cum to shoot out, some spilling over his cock, and some painting over your weeping pussy. 

You could hear him panting- practically gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath. Your hand stroked soothingly over his chest, an attempt to give him some comfort- wondering if he pushed himself too hard. It’s not like you don’t notice his limp, or hear the fits of coughing he goes into some nights. 

However, for an older gentleman like him, he sure knew how to fuck.

The breathing of both of you eased. You sat on his lap, wrapped in his arms surrounded by the darkness of the limo, only the occasional headlights of a car driving by that shown into the limo, highlighting you and Logan’s embrace. 

“Need a ride home?” He finally breaks the silence. 

It was a quiet drive. Logan helped you get dressed, cleaned you up with napkins he kept in the front. 

Once you were in the passenger seat, and buckled up. He lit up a cigar, smoking it the entire drive. It was a comfortable silence, similar to the times when the bar was nearly empty- just you, Logan, and the cook who was finishing up in the kitchen. Sometimes you didn’t feel the need to force conversation, just sat with him while you sorted the silverware and took inventory of drinks. Logan was just good company, even if he didn’t seem to think so. 

He however, wondered what the ever living fuck was wrong with him. Why did he let his dick do all the thinking for the last hour? Ruin something nice. Maybe he liked you, maybe he’s fucked his fist to the thought of you nearly every night since he met you. That didn’t give him the right to do this. 

When he turned onto your street, is when you spoke up again.

“This was really nice, Logan.” 

Your voice drew him out of his self-hatred. He looked at you, not saying anything at first as he took a puff on his cigar. 

“I mean, I don’t know about you but…I enjoyed everything.” You say softly. “I don’t do this much, or really at all. I’m glad it was with you.” 

He rolled to a stop in front of your house. You turned to look at it, then back at him. “Well I’ll…see you around?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He responds, flicking the rest of the cigar out the window. He opens his door- confusing you as he steps out and walks around the front, now opening your door for you. You smiled, grabbing your bag as you stepped out. 

“Thank you.” 

You leaned forward, kissing his cheek. Turning to your house you began to walk up the sidewalk, before stopping halfway up the walkway- feeling his stare on your back. You turned around, fiddling with your bag as you tilted your head. Logan was leaning against the Chrysler, and your eyes met. 

There was no reason for the night to be over yet. 

“Logan…Do you want to come in?”

[jinusajas]

01/16/25; 08:08pm

vi(olet) x fem.reader | modern au

notes: no joke, i’ve been having dreams of writing for vi, with @shouyuus as my hype woman 😭 so i might as well make my dreams come true.

warnings: unedited; drunk men being men; potentially ooc since i’ve never written for vi before 🙂‍↕️ vi and reader are both in their early twenties.

also, just in case if my more… intrusive thoughts win…

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

what does a girl need to do to get some peace and quiet at her favorite bar? you think to yourself while tending to your rum and coke, feeling those men’s eyes leering at you.

their hushed whispers about how fine your ass looked beneath that dress and how you needed a man like him to show you a good time made a shudder of disgust run down your spine.

your mood already ruined by the tense atmosphere, you down the rest of your drink in a few gulps, smoothing out the skirt of your dress while slamming a few bills down as payment for your lone drink. ignoring the footsteps that linger from behind you, your hands were outreached toward the door when a harsh whistle pierces through your ear.

“now hold on a minute, babygirl. what’s the rush?” the powerful scent of vodka fills your nostrils, making you nearly gag as the asshole seemed to wear the hard liquor as his signature cologne. “the night’s still young, and i’ve been eyeing your ass since the moment you walked in.”

grimy hands grip at your waist, making you face forward as your gaze burned with hatred for the bastard settled before you. his hair was slicked back with copious amounts of gel, as his chapped lips were cracked wide open in a shit-eating grin. “now, you’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?”

red hot fury blossoms across your veins as you lift a hand, ready to slap the drunkard when the sensation of your wrist being tugged backwards makes you gasp in response. your eyes go wide, seeing what had to be the fucker’s lackey restrain you. “let go of me!”

“and why should we, princess?” with you now restrained, he leans forward while inhaling your scent, pressing the tip of his nose against your neck as you could feel the bile rising up against your throat.

“she’s not interested.” a low, feminine voice was heard speaking from just a mere few feet away from you. your eyes land on the owner of that voice, seeing an attractive woman with layered, magenta hair and clear blue eyes looking down at her glass of whiskey. you swallow thickly, wondering what she was planning as you tried to pull your arm away from the man’s grip.

“what’s this? ah, i see. maybe you were needing to get some good dick as well.” he removes himself from you, sauntering toward the strangely alluring woman while pulling up his pants, “would you like to ride this as well?”

the woman finishes her whiskey in one swift gulp-

and the next moment she was on him. before he could even lay a hand on her, she had him pinned beneath the sole of her boots. annoyance was seen in her gaze as she brought down a hard punch against his face, busting his lip open as a painful crunching sound was heard, making you wince at the sight.

“boss!”

finally, the asshole relinquished his hold on you, letting you go to help the fallen man only to receive the same type of treatment from your savior. her combat boots met with his abdomen, making him keel over in pain as she tossed him aside and into one of the tables, making him crash unceremoniously into it.

“goddamnit vi! you just wrecked another table!” the bartender scolds the pink haired woman (vi, her name was vi), yet she ignored him. “just put it on my tab, jake!”

ignoring the men and the bartender, vi steps closer to you, giving you a better view of her face. her layered hair fell across her face, and you saw that it had subtle hues of pink from beneath the lighting. full lips were tilted up in a smile, and you felt warmth against your skin upon realizing that she had freckles dotted across her cheeks along with a tattoo that had vi settled just below her eyelid, “you alright sweetie?”

for some reason, when she called you sweetie, it didn’t sound condescending, but rather filled with concern as she knew just how uncomfortable it was for women to be in such a position. after taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you manage to give her smile and nod, “yes, but it was all thanks to you, really.”

vi’s eyes widen momentarily before pressing herself against you, running a hand down the expanse of your legs, “what’s your name?” your breathing hitches at the sensation of her hand traveling down your thighs, yet you manage to tell her the syllables that make up your name.

she repeats it, (as if tasting it on her tongue), before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “would you like to come home with me?”

and who were you to deny such a delectable request?

{ … }

the ride back to vi’s apartment was a blur, yet you could feel the tension. she expertly weaves through the road driving her stick-shift car (looking hot as hell each time she changed gears) with you clinging to her throughout it all.

you were barely aware of how she quickly parked her car in the lot, with you tossing open the door while allowing vi to interlock her fingertips with yours. they felt calloused against yours, and you briefly wondered if she was a mechanic or engineer of some sort, your mind painting you fantasies of vi working beneath a car with grease staining at the palm of her hands.

the sound of a door unlocking breaks you out of your reveries, with vi practically pulling you inside of her apartment before slamming the door shut. she pins you against her now locked door, hands pushing up the skirt of your dress as her eyes darkened at the sight. “you have now idea how pissed i was when those assholes dared to touch you.”

she presses herself against your front, easily picking you up by the back of your thighs before hoisting you up against her. she captures your lips in a searing kiss, forcing your legs to wrap around her waist. you moan against her lips, allowing her tongue to delve inside of your awaiting mouth. you could taste the lingering whiskey along with something slightly sweeter (was it cherries?) against vi’s lips, making you crave her even more.

while vi takes you to what you assumed was her bedroom, you remained tight in a lip lock with her, letting out a soft gasp when you felt your back meet the plushness of her mattress. pulling away from the kiss first, vi looks down at you, tracing at your lips made swollen by her kisses as she smirks in response. a wave of heat was felt shooting throughout your veins as a familiar ache was settled between your legs. you swallow thickly while clamping your knees together in hopes of assuaging the ache-

and your movements did not go unnoticed by vi.

“do you want it, princess?” her once true blue eyes were eclipsed by darkness, evidence of her pure desire for you when you felt her hands slowly gripping at the straps of your dress. with a hum of her name, you slowly wrap your arms around her neck, “of course i want it… i want you, vi.”

that was all the urging vi needed to continue, with her hands swiftly removing your dress as she left you in your undergarments. admiring the pretty lace that covers your breasts and keeps your center hidden, she traces along the fabric in a reverent manner before moving her hand toward your back, “as much as i enjoy seeing you in such pretty lace, these need to come off.”

expert hands remove your bra in one swift motion, making you gasp as vi tosses it to the side. when you were only left in your panties, you felt your throat turn dry as vi crawls down your form, settling herself between your legs as she grips at the underside of your panties with her teeth, sliding it off of your body in a far too sinful manner while allowing the flimsy fabric to hang precariously on your ankle.

with you utterly bare for the powerful woman settled above you, vi admires the sight of your aching cunt for a few moments, dipping a slender finger inside of you as she collects at your honeyed arousal. “you smell so sweet for me, princess. you won’t mind if i have a little taste, right?”

you shake your head, practically begging for her lips on your slick heat as your hands automatically delve themselves into her hair. she presses her full lips against your cunt, pumping a finger in and out of your heat while using her tongue to fully taste you. despite only meeting her a mere few hours ago, she played your body like an instrument, drawing out breathy moans and sighs with each lingering touch. and when you felt her gently pinch at your swollen clit-

you let out a broken sob, back arched against the bed as you spilled yourself into vi’s awaiting mouth. she swallows everything you had to offer with a shudder, letting out a string of curses in the process, “you taste so fucking good, princess.”

with your mind in a pleasured daze, you felt the pinpricks of pleasure still coursing through you even when vi removes herself from between your legs. vi places a hand on your knee, keeping your legs spread open for her as she rummages through her drawer for something.

“hang tight for me, princess.” vi quickly sheds her tank top and shorts while tossing them to the side, stepping out of her combat boots as they fell haphazardly against the hardwood floor of her bedroom. her back was facing you, and that was when you realized the true extent of her gorgeous physique as you admired the muscles that ran down her back. you didn’t know what she was doing until she faces you once more, making your mouth water at the sight of her beautifully sculpted body with a strap-on settled between her legs.

“i’m going to treat you well tonight.” she adds the needed lubrication down the shaft of her strap-on before rejoining you on the bed. anticipation courses through your veins the moment you felt vi tracing the tip of it against your slick folds while teasing your swollen clit with it, “after tonight, i don’t think i’m letting you go anytime soon, princess.”

and when she fully sheathes her toy cock within your soaked walls, you lost all of your senses while eagerly bouncing yourself on her strap-on, not minding the thought of solely belonging to vi one bit.

end notes: i’ve been referencing a little bit of rain’s own fics in this story, and im sorry if it’s bad 😭 if this is awful and no one likes it, then i promise i won’t write for vi anymore !!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[tropes-and-tales]

Damsel in Distress

(Jake Seresin x F!Reader)

CW:  Angst (sexual harassment); a bit of fluff.

Word Count:  1808

AN:  A little interlude for the Jake girls.

AN2: This has not been edited in any way, shape, or form!

It’s a burden sometimes, being so handsome.

Jake knows he’d sound like a complete asshole if he ever said such a statement out loud.

Still, it can be a burden.

He wasn’t always handsome.  Jake Seresin hardly even qualified as cute when he was a kid.  Certain parts of his body seemed to grow out of sync with the rest of him, so he was fairly awkward for many of his pre-teen years.  Ears that stood out from his head.  Cornsilk hair too fine to do much other than lay flat on his scalp.  Lopsided smile due to a crooked incisor.

But he evened out eventually.  He grew into his ears.  His hair darkened a bit and grew thicker.  Pricey orthodontics fixed his wonky tooth.  He shot up in height, put on muscle working at his uncle’s ranch, and the rest was history.  He learned to wear his good looks like armor, and he learned that even just a bit of charm got him further than other men might get.

Still, it can be a burden.

For example, when he’s had a rough day at Top Gun and just wants to enjoy a beer at the Hard Deck without needing to be on.  He gets tired sometimes of always being on, of being the guy with the megawatt smile and easy charisma, of being the guy to dazzle the single women on the prowl at the bar, of having all the innuendos and quips always at the ready.  He gets tired of being Hangman, tired of being the impressive pilot in the perfectly tailored uniform.  He gets tired of being the lieutenant, of being Seresin.  Sometimes he just wants to be an anonymous man, and barring that, he just wants to be Jake.  Sometimes he just wants someone to look at him—really see him—and just call him Jake.

“Get you another one?”

The voice breaks his reverie, and Jake looks up to see the bartender standing across from him.  You are related to Penny somehow, some first cousin twice removed deal, and you take shifts at the Hard Deck when she’s short-handed.

The megawatt smile comes on automatically.  “Sure thing,” he replies and slides his empty glass over the bar top to you, but you don’t simper at his grin.  You only nod and pour him a beer in a fresh glass, set it down in front of him on a fresh napkin.

You never seem to be impressed by him, but you never seem to be impressed by any of the men (or women) who call the Hard Deck home.  You’re all business; you’re polite to the customers, quick on a pour, a champ at tallying tabs in your head.  You have a freakish ability to balance a laden tray of drinks, and you’re not afraid to step in when someone has partied too much.  You’ve frog-marched more than one drunken flyboy out of the bar and waited until a sober friend came to bear them away.

Not that Jake wants to impress you today.  He just wants to be alone.  He just wants to sit at the bar, tucked away in the far corner, and sulk a little.  Top Gun has been exhausting, and he’s not syncing with the back-seater they want him to fly with.  He’s been nursing a low-grade headache for the past few days, and he could go home, but his apartment is sterile and depressing—

He feels the woman before he sees her.  He feels her first because she leans against him, her tits blatantly pressed against his arm.  It’s not a casual brush-by or an accidental stumble; she’s purposely pushing her chest against him, and Jake shifts and turns at the same time.

The megawatt smile comes on automatically.  “Careful there, ma’am,” he says.  He keeps the admonishment light by laying on his Texas accent.  He takes in the woman as she pouts, then fixes him with a look that might aspire to coy if not for how drunk she is.

“Ma’am?” she asks, incredulous.  Jake catches a whiff of her breath, and the alcohol fumes could peel paint off his plane.  “Ma’am?”

“Now, I—”

“Do I look like a ma’am?”

He keeps the smile plastered on his face.  “Miss, then.  Apologies.”

The pout disappears, and she grins back at him.  And she moves closer, presses the length of her body against him.  “S’okay.  Make it up to me.  Buy me a drink.”

Jake chuckles, and he shifts away again.  The woman is sweaty, and this close, he can see how drunk she is.  Her makeup is smeared, and her eyes can’t quite focus on him.  Her blinking is slow, but she compensates by widening her eyes, making her look owlish.

“I think you’ve had plenty of fun already,” he replies.  He gets a leg braced on the floor and does an awkward scoot on his stool to gain a few inches away from her, but it lasts for all of a second.

“Not enough fun.”  Another pout, but she’s on him again, stuck to him again, and Jake feels the tiniest tendril of panic.  He hates being touched like this, hates when pushy women do this.  He just wants a damned drink alone, and this woman reeks of booze—her breath, the sweat seeping from her pores—and she pressed against him, the slick grease of her sweat sliding against his bare forearm.

“We could have more fun,” she adds.

And then, a moment later, her hand finds him.  Gropes at him blindly, her palm catching him high up on his thigh before she moves inward, and Jake grimaces, reaches to catch her wrist and stop her before—

She is jerked away, and Jake blinks at how fast you move.  Faster than he ever saw you move before, but you’re right there.  He didn’t even see you moving from behind the bar. 

He blinks, turns on his stool to see the scene play out.

“You’ve had enough, and I believe the Lieutenant is not interested,” you tell the woman.  You have one of her arms folded behind her back—the one that had been fumbling at Jake—and when the woman flails at you with her free hand, you catch her easily around her wrist and fold it behind her back too.  It plays out like a cop perp-walking a criminal, and you start to maneuver her towards the exit.

“Fucking bitch!” the woman shrieks.  “I’m a customer!”

“Not anymore,” you say, calm, but when you glance over at Jake, you tip him a nod and offer him a smile.

*****

It goes down with minimal drama.  Penny finds the woman’s friends, also wasted, and a taxi is called.  For ten, fifteen minutes, you stand by the Hard Deck’s entrance, arms crossed and glare fixed on the woman as she rants, fumbles for her vape, drops her vape, then rants some more.

Then the taxi arrives, and you’re back at the bar like nothing happened.  You pour a fresh pitcher for Coyote and Fanboy, and then you turn back to Jake.

He plasters on that bright, perfect smile of his when he sees you.  “Sorry about that,” he says.

You tilt your head.  “Why are you apologizing?”

The smile stays set on his face.  “Didn’t mean to make a scene.”

“You didn’t make a scene.” 

The smile falters around its edges as he says, “I could’ve handled it.”

You take shifts at the Hard Deck to help your cousin out, and the money doesn’t hurt either.  But a not-small part of you likes to people-watch; you like watching life play out in front of you.  You learn a lot about people that way—the relationships that flourish and die at the bar, the petty grievances, the friendships.  You notice everyone, take it all in.

You’ve noticed Jake Seresin, of course.

There’s something fragile to him that you wonder if anyone else sees.  Something insecure.  He hides it behind his good looks, his easy smile, his charisma.  He has confidence in spades, sure, but he also seems to house a small, self-doubting part too.

Like that smile of his.  He has more than one.  He’s got a real, genuine smile that comes out easy enough.  When he and his teammates are joking around, when they are circled around the piano and belting out some old standard as Rooster bangs on the keys. 

He’s got a softer, smaller smile, and that’s usually reserved for Penny when she gently teases him about something.

He also has this smile that is pure artifice, the one on his face right now.  It’s a brittle sort of armor, like a deflector shield that goes up automatically when that small, self-doubting part of him is in play.  That smile is just a fraction too wide, a bit too stiff and fake.

“Why should you have to handle it?” you ask, and the smile falters a bit more at your question.

“She was just drunk…”  He trails off, and there’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice.  He must hear it too, because his eyes dart around to see who else might be hearing him.  Like his patented Jake Seresin schtick, his uber-confident and cocky persona might be at risk of being found a fraud.

You lean against the bar, rock onto your toes to get closer to him.  You stare at him until he turns and stares back at you, caught in the force of your gaze.

“If she were a guy and you were a woman, would you be so quick to shrug it off?” you ask.

“I don’t—”

“You don’t deserve to be groped.”

“That’s—”

“Even if you’re this tough airplane pilot, you know?”

That finally breaks the hold of that fake smile of his.  It slides off his face and is replaced by a more natural, teasing one.

“Airplane pilot makes me sound like I fly a regional route for Delta,” he jokes.

“Probably better snacks than in a fighter jet though, right?  Or does the military supply Sun Chips in their planes?”

He chuckles, and his smile shifts again.  Now it’s softer, gentler.  He shakes his head, and he looks down at the top of the bar where his hands are folded together.  You think that this right here is probably the real Jake Seresin, the truest version of all the different facets of him, and probably the one few people get to see. 

You knock the bar lightly in front of him until he lifts his gaze and looks at you again.  You offer him a smile in return.

“Let me get you another beer, Jake.  On me.”

And something makes his smile shift yet again:  still soft, but broader, like you’ve said something incredible, though all you’ve done is offer him a free beer…and said his name.

[tgcg]

ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

[scarlethexelove]

Save A Horse Ride A Cowgirl

Pairing: Cowgirl!Kate Bishop x Saloon Owner!Reader

Word Count: 1893

Summary: Kate has a bit of a debt at your Saloon and she has other idea's on how to repay it.

Warnings: Sex used as payment, Smut, Kate has a penis, Allusion to fuck boy!Kate, P in V, Size kink, Belly bulge, Breeding, Squirting, Little fluffy at the end.

A/n: I just watched the new season of What If and was turned on inspired by Cowgirl!Kate. It made me want to write again but I also have to give a whole bunch of thanks to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl I was on the struggle bus so hard on writing. I couldn't think of an intro and I was struggling so hard on writing. I'm hoping to get more back into a flow of writing soon. This was a nice first step even thought I didn't write most of it myself.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your saloon was the beating heart of this dusty little town you called home. It was where cowboys gambled, outlaws whispered their secrets, and weary travelers sought a stiff drink and a soft touch. But none of them had your attention the way Kate Bishop did.

Kate was trouble in the form of a cocky gunslinger, always riding in with that smug smirk, dusty boots propped up on your bar, and a cocky drawl that sent shivers straight through you. She wasn’t just any cowgirl—she was the best shot this side of the Mississippi, always swaggering in like she owned the place. Maybe she did. She sure as hell owned you, even if she hadn’t made a move...yet. You looked her over, eyes landing on her bulge. You'd heard some of the other girls talk about it in whispers. 

"You gonna pour me a drink, darlin’, or just keep starin’?" Kate’s voice was thick as honey and twice as sinful. 

You scowled, more at yourself, for getting caught looking at her. "You got a tab as long as the Mississippi, Bishop. Maybe you should pay up before expectin’ more whiskey."

Kate grinned, slow and knowing. "I can think of another way to settle my debt." She leaned forward on the counter, her calloused fingers just barely brushing yours.

That is how you found yourself straddling the gunslingers lap, your arms wrapped around her neck and her hands on your waist. The skirt of your dress covering Kate’s lap. Her eyes sparked as they looked down upon you. Even seated in her lap she was much larger than yourself. 

“Mmm I like this view of you sweetheart.” Kate was cocky but you can’t help but love it. She uses the grip she has on your hips to grind you down in her lap. She can feel the heat radiating from your core and you can feel her large bulge already painfully hard. 

You suppress the whimper that desperately wants to escape your lips. Instead you're able to lean forward and whisper in Kate’s ear. “I’ve heard it’s better to save a horse and ride a cowgirl.” You nibble at her ear and can hear the slightest hitch in her breathing. “Is that true?”  

That small falter that you noticed just moments ago gone within an instance. The grip Kate has on your hips tightens and a low growl rumbles in her chest. “Stand.” She commanded, leaving no room for argument not that you wanted to anyways. 

You slip out of Kate’s lap and stand in front of her. Your hands clasped in front of you. “Good girl.” Kate looks down to her lap and you follow her gaze. A visible wet spot had formed on her pants. A deep blush covers your cheeks at the realization. “Fuck darlin’ already so desperate for me and I haven’t even touched you.” 

“But you’re ha-” Kate tuts cutting off your protest. 

Kate removes her focus from you and begins to undo her pants. You watch as she pulls them down just far enough to free her cock. Your eyes widen when you see just how big she is. Sure you knew that she was well endowed but she is larger than you had expected. 

It’s like Kate can read your mind. “Don’t worry darlin’ I’ll make it fit.” She slowly strokes herself with a smirk playing on her lips. “Now I want you to be a good girl for me and remove those panties of yours. Then I want you to come back over here and ride my cock.” You can’t help but shutter at her words. “That’s what you wanted isn’t it?” You know that is more of a statement than a question but you nod anyway. “Aww what happened to the confident girl that was in my lap a few moments ago. What seeing my big cock get you all fuzzy brained there. Don’t worry sweetheart soon enough there won’t be any thoughts in that pretty little head of yours other than my cock fucking into you.” 

That whine from earlier slipping through your lips as you squirm. But you do as you're told. Removing your panties before moving over and straddling Kate’s lap again. Barely hovering over her cock. Kate pushes your dress up around your hips wanting to watch as you sink down on her. 

 You line yourself up with her cock and slowly start to sink down. A moan coming out of you, her hands on your hips pulling you down until she's bottomed out. Feeling her in the deepest parts of you, stretching you further than you thought possible, but in the best way possible.

Kate bites her lip, feeling your warm wet walls envelop her length. She so desperately wants to pound into you, but she doesn't want to hurt you. "Come on, sweetheart, move those pretty hips of yours. Fuck yourself on my cock.” God hearing her voice in a harsh tone makes your stomach flutter. 

You slowly move your hips, feeling her cock hit your spongy walls. Your body twitches with each roll as you grab onto her shoulders. "Ah...fuck...K-Kate...mmm" She held you against her, feeling her smirk widen.

"Feel good sweetheart? You were made for my cock, weren't you?" Kate asks and you nod another moan coming out of you.

"Fuck yes...yes…” Your mind is so fuzzy making it hard for you to form a coherent sentence. 

"Good darlin' cause you feel so fucking perfect wrapped around me." Kate’s grip tightens around your waist. "So fucking good." 

"Mmm fu-fuck." Your movements still slow as you're stretched to the max.mKate tries to hold off, tries to wait, but she's tightening her grip on you. Her hips starting to fuck up into you. A deep moan comes out of you at first until it turns into a series of "uh...ah...ah..uh uh". She hooks her hands under your thighs, standing up and bouncing you on her cock. Every thrust of hers pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You grip at Kate's back, digging your nails into her shirt. Wrapping your legs securely around her waist as she continues to bounce you on her cock. Moans slipping past your lips as your head falls back. She can feel how your walls are pulsing around her length. "You gonna cum sweetheart? Make a fucking mess for me?" She growls. 

"Fuck yes..please...God I...yes yes" You manage out as Kate kisses over your shoulder and up your neck. 

Kate’s breath is hot by your ear. "Gonna let me breed you sweetheart? Want me to breed you full? Till it's dripping down your thighs?" She growls by your ear and you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy. 

"Yes please please breed me. Need all of you in me. Need it so badly." You whine out. Your orgasm washes over you with a powerful thrust from Kate. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your cum coats her cock. Your walls squeeze her that much more, setting her off. You feel as thick ropes of cum coat your walls. 

Kate doesn't slow even as you come down from your first orgasm. You really shouldn't be surprised at her stamina, but she has your head reeling. "Ka-Kate." You gasp.

Kate walks you over to a table and lays you on top. Stilling her hips for a moment as she looks down at you. "So fucking beautiful." You feel your face and chest flush as your breathing heavy and just as you start to come down Kate's moving again. Pressing your legs closer to your chest. It felt like she was hitting even deeper as you reached for her forearms, nails digging into her tough flesh.

As she thrust into you, your dress starts getting in her way. She desperately wants to see all of you. "Fuck this." She growls in frustration. Kate easily manhandles you the way she wants. Without even pulling out, she grips the top of your dress and starts ripping. Buttons start flying as she pulls the fabric apart, but she doesn't stop at the end of the buttons she easily rips all the way down. She lets the fabric hang to the sides, exposing your flushed skin to her. 

As your dress rips you want to be mad, but you're more turned on than anything else. Your back arching into Kate’s touch as her hands find your breasts. She kneads them thoroughly before pinching your nipples and pulling out them until moans were the only thing you were able to do

Kate starts to move her hips again. "You make such pretty noises for me darlin'." Soon enough she is pounding into you. "I think I'll keep you, sweetheart. Making you my breeding bitch. Maybe get you pregnant. Would you like that sweetheart? Be mine forever." 

The thought made your eyes roll back. The thoughts flashing before you of a little family and fuck it's all you wanted. "Yes! Yes! Wanna be your breeding bitch! Please will take all of it! Even if you get me pregnant, you can keep breeding more into me!" You moan and pant, looking up at her.

Kate groans, leaning down to kiss you harshly. You can't help but gasp into her mouth. "Mine." She growls against your lips. 

"You-yours." You moan out.

You whine when Kate stands back up, but that doesn't last long when her thrust speeds up. Her eyes rake over your body, stopping at your lower stomach. You lift your head to try and see what she does. 

What you see is with every thrust there is a large noticeable outline of her cock. You don't know how, but she looks even larger, and you feel fuller. A low moan slipping out. "F-.fuck..." You couldn't take your eyes off of the bulge until your head was falling backwards as you orgasmed rocked through you.

Kate presses down on the bulge with her hand. Your cum squirting out creating a mess on both of you. A loud moan erupts from Kate's throat as her hips stutter and she cums with you. Filling you up even more. Your hips roll instinctively  pushing upwards trying to keep what you can inside. You wanted to be bred. You need it. Needed her. Needed to feel that you were hers even after she'd left you.

You whine when Kate slowly pulls out. Feeling a lot emptier now. "Shhh." Kate shushes you softly. It's like she can read your mind as she picks you back up in her arms. You instinctively wrap around her but whine more when you feel as her cum leaks out of you. 

Kate kisses the side of your head, letting her lips linger there. "Shhh, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. Let's get you cleaned up." 

"Not leaving?" You mumble as you nuzzle against her.

"Not at all darlin'. Since the moment I laid my eyes on you, I haven't wanted anyone else. I haven't looked at anyone else." Kate’s words are soft and has your heart swelling. 

You bury yourself back against her. She wasn't leaving you? You smiled against her and nodded. You believed her. You knew she was telling the truth despite the past reputation she'd had in town. Well that is until she met you.