IN HER REFLECTION- nerd!NR
pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader
cw- 18+!!; top!reader, sub!bottom!natasha, fingering, mirror sex, liiiight choking, strap (n rcv), heavy praise kink!!, slight degradation if you squint i guess, natty in subspace!
wc- almost 10k of pure smut? sorry?
a/n- got inspired by a request! and then my brain did something weird and suddenly there's 7k words about natasha taking a strap, but that's not on me. not. on. me. blame the anon! (loved writing your request, feel free to send some more in x)
request- forcing nerdy!nat to look at herself on the mirror while you make her sit on your lap and finger her.
synopsis- natasha had been a brat, so you treat her like one, exploring her desires as she confronts herself in the mirror.
taglist- @esposadejoyhuerta, @lost-mortemanghel - comment or dm if you'd like to be added x
It wasn’t just today that had you on edge. Natasha had been bratting out in the most subtle, infuriating ways for days now, but today she had taken it to another level. She knew exactly how to toe the line—pretending to be her usual innocent, shy self—while leaving just enough doubt in your mind to make you question whether or not she was pushing you intentionally.
The text messages were what really started it.
You’d been in class, trying to focus on a lecture, when the first one came in. It was simple enough: “Hope your class is going well ;)”—completely harmless, right? But you couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it, especially when you opened it and saw the little winking emoji she’d added at the end. That wink, so out of character for her, made you pause. You stared at your phone, trying to decide whether or not you were imagining things. Natasha didn’t usually send flirty texts, let alone ones with winking emojis.
You could already feel the flicker of heat in your chest, but you pushed it aside and ignored the message, hoping it was just an innocent mistake.
Except it didn’t stop there.
Three hours later, another text came through: “I keep thinking about you today. Can’t focus on anything else.”
And this time, it wasn’t so easy to brush off. Her words were vague enough to be taken as sweet, but your gut told you there was more to it. You could almost imagine her saying those words, the way her voice might sound just a little breathless as she admitted it.
By the third class, you were struggling to concentrate. The way Natasha kept popping into your mind, her texts leaving you on edge, had you feeling more than just a little distracted.
As soon as the lecture ended and you stepped out of the classroom, your phone rang. Natasha.
You picked up, trying to keep your voice casual. “Hey, Natty. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice soft and shy, but there was something else. A breathlessness. Like she was slightly out of breath. “I was just thinking about you.”
Again, it sounded innocent enough, but the timing, the tone… something about it felt deliberate.
You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Are you sure you're okay? You’ve been really... attentive today."
“I just miss you,” she murmured, her voice carrying that same soft, almost innocent tone. But underneath it, you could sense that there was more she wasn’t saying.
There was a slight pause on the line, and for a moment, you thought you heard her inhale sharply, like she was trying to catch her breath. It made your pulse spike, sending a ripple of heat through you. You didn’t ask, but the thought crossed your mind—was she…?
No. Natasha was too innocent for that. You knew she wouldn’t touch herself without you.
Still, the way she’d sounded out of breath left you imagining all sorts of scenarios, ones you tried to push away as you focused on getting through the rest of the day.
By the time you got home, her teasing texts and those breathy phone calls had simmered inside you, leaving you wound tight. She was fully aware of her actions, even though she acted like she wasn’t. The winks, the subtle innuendos, the way she kept thinking about you and calling you after every class—it was all part of her game.
And now, here she was, sitting at your dining table, acting like the same sweet, innocent nerd who couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. Her head tilted slightly as she studied you, still feigning innocence, but there was that glimmer in her eyes, that hint of mischief that sent a fresh surge of frustration through you.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again, her voice sweet but clearly baiting you, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Did I do something?”
You exhaled sharply, narrowing your eyes at her. “Don’t play dumb, Natty. You know exactly what you’ve been doing all day.”
She blinked up at you, a blush warming her cheeks, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she held your gaze, biting her lip as if struggling to suppress a smile, that bratty confidence shining through.
You moved closer, standing directly in front of her now, crossing your arms as you stared down at her. “The texts, the calls… were you just trying to mess with me?”
Her breath hitched slightly, the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I-I wasn’t trying to—”
“Don’t lie,” you interrupted, your tone firm. You leaned in, placing your hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in. “You’ve been bratting out all day, trying to get a reaction. Haven’t you?”
Her eyes widened for a moment, her bravado faltering just slightly. But then, after a beat of silence, she bit her lip and nodded.
“Maybe a little,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the admission was clear.
You could feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you crackling like electricity. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to push your buttons, trying to test you. But now? Now she was going to find out exactly what happens when she pushes too far.
“You like pushing me, don’t you?” you asked, your voice low and dangerous, watching as her blush deepened even further.
Natasha squirmed slightly in her seat, clearly flustered, but she didn’t look away. “I-I like it when you… when you pay attention to me,” she admitted softly, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.
You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, you have my attention, alright.” You let your hand move to her chin, tilting her head up so she was forced to keep looking at you. “But if you want to keep bratting out, then you’d better be ready to handle what comes next.”
Her breath caught in her throat, her wide eyes locking onto yours. You could see the anticipation swirling there, her nervousness mixing with anticipation as she realised what was about to happen.
“Stand up,” you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument.
Natasha quickly obeyed, her body trembling slightly as she rose to her feet, her gaze never leaving yours. You could see the flush creeping down her neck, and you knew that under her composed exterior, she was just as affected as you were.
You moved behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her toward the mirror on the far wall of the room. She looked confused for a moment, but she didn’t resist.
You positioned her in front of the mirror, your body pressing close to hers from behind, your hands slowly sliding down her arms as you leaned in close to her ear.
“Look at yourself, Natty,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “Look at how flushed you are. How much you’ve been teasing me today.”
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her eyes fixed on her reflection as you stood behind her, the tension between you thick in the air. She could see it herself too now—the bratty smirk gone, replaced with the vulnerable, needy expression you knew she’d been hiding all day.
“You think you’re so innocent,” you murmured, your hands moving down to rest on her hips. “But you’re not. You’ve been begging for this all day.”
Natasha let out a shaky breath, her eyes flickering between the mirror and the floor, her body trembling under your touch.
“I… I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, but you did,” you interrupted, your tone soft but firm. “And now, you’re going to take the consequences.”
-
You sit on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror in your bedroom with Natasha in your lap. Her back is resting against your front, her body snug against yours. She’s still wearing her panties and your oversized shirt—one she had been using as pyjamas, soft and far too big for her. The image of her in it, slightly dishevelled, only adds to the intimacy of the moment.
She had undressed you earlier, her hands tentative but eager, slowly pulling off each piece of clothing until you were left bare. Her fingers had lingered on your skin, tracing over your chest, arms, and thighs with a delicate touch, as if still unsure of her own boldness. Now, the warmth of her bare back pressing against your chest feels both grounding and electrifying.
The oversized shirt hangs loosely off her shoulders, the fabric falling down past her thighs, barely covering anything. Her skin glows in the dim light of the room, and the way her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath betrays the nerves bubbling inside her. You can feel her heartbeat thudding softly against your chest, her anticipation palpable.
With one hand resting on her waist, you reach for the hem of the shirt. Your fingers brush lightly against her skin, and you feel the shiver that runs down her spine. "Let’s get rid of this," you murmur softly into her ear. She tenses for a moment, but she doesn’t object, only nodding slightly in agreement.
You tug the shirt upwards, brushing it over her shoulders and guiding her arms out of the sleeves. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and when the shirt is finally discarded, it leaves her sitting there in nothing but her panties, vulnerable and exposed in the dim light of the room.
The soft blush on her cheeks deepens, her eyes glancing away from the mirror in front of you as she tries to hide her embarrassment. But there’s no hiding now—not when you’re both like this.
"Look at yourself," you say gently, your voice soft but firm. Your fingers lift her chin, tilting her head slightly so she’s forced to meet her own reflection in the mirror. Her wide eyes flicker nervously, trying to focus on anything but the image staring back at her. But you don’t let her turn away.
"Look at how beautiful you are," you continue, your hand sliding down her bare stomach, feeling the soft skin beneath your fingertips. She trembles slightly, her body pressing further into you for comfort. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, unsure, and so soft—makes your heart ache with affection.
Her breathing hitches as your hand travels lower, tracing over the waistband of her panties. She’s already wet—you can feel it through the fabric—and the knowledge sends a thrill down your spine. You slide your hand under the waistband, teasing her with the lightest of touches.
"You’re already so wet for me," you murmur, pressing a finger against her slick entrance. Natasha gasps softly, her body jerking in your lap. Her hips shift instinctively, trying to push against your hand, but you hold her steady.
"Keep looking," you remind her, tilting her chin up again as you tear her panties away with a swift motion, leaving her exposed to the mirror. "I want you to watch every second."
Her breath comes in soft, shaky pants as you slide a single finger inside her. Her walls flutter around you, the slick heat welcoming your touch, but she’s so tight, so sensitive. She bites her lip, trying to stifle the whimper that escapes her, but you catch it anyway.
"Tell me how it feels," you coax her gently, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
"It feels… good," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes half-lidded as she watches the reflection of herself in your lap, back pressed against you, utterly at your mercy. She’s barely holding on to her own control, the sensation already overwhelming her.
You add another finger, stretching her slightly, and her body tenses. She lets out a soft moan, her head falling back against your shoulder as you continue to move inside her. The wet sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of her fill the room, and her reflection shudders at the sound. Her hips rock involuntarily against your hand, desperate for more friction.
"Look at yourself," you whisper again, your voice a mix of command and praise. "Look at how beautiful you are when you’re falling apart so fast."
Natasha’s eyes flutter open, her gaze locking onto the reflection, and the sight makes her blush even deeper. She watches herself being fingered, cheeks flushed, lips parted as soft gasps fall from her mouth. She’s trembling in your lap already, her hips moving slightly, but she’s still shy, still struggling to meet her own gaze.
"Don’t hide from me," you murmur, curling your fingers inside her, causing her to whimper. "I want to see you, hear you. I want you to see yourself."
Her chest rises sharply as the pleasure builds, and her body reacts to every small movement of your hand. The intensity of it is written all over her face—her soft moans, the way her legs tremble in your lap, the way she tries so hard to maintain her composure but can’t.
You pick up the pace, curling your fingers just right, and Natasha’s breath hitches. Her hips jerk forward, her body writhing as the pleasure starts to take over. She’s close now, her walls tightening around your fingers, her moans growing louder as her body shudders in your arms.
"That’s it," you praise softly. "You’re doing so well."
It doesn’t take long before Natasha falls apart completely. Her orgasm hits her in waves, her body trembling violently as she gasps for air, her reflection a beautiful, trembling mess. Her walls clamp down on your fingers, and she lets out a loud moan, unable to hold back any longer. You keep your pace steady, letting her ride out the full extent of her climax.
"Good girl," you whisper, kissing her temple as she leans back against you, her body spent. "You’re so perfect."
For a moment, you think she might be done, her breathing heavy and her body limp against yours. But then, she surprises you.
"I want more," she whispers breathlessly, her voice barely audible. There’s a neediness to her tone, a desperation for something deeper, more intense.
You pull your fingers out slowly, watching as her body twitches at the sudden emptiness. She’s still trembling, her slick heat clinging to your fingers. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to be absolutely certain.
Natasha nods, biting her lip as she gazes at you in the mirror, cheeks flushed and eyes still glassy from her orgasm. You position three fingers at her entrance, and her breath catches in her throat. She’s never taken that much before, and the nervousness is evident in her expression. But she trusts you—completely.
With slow, deliberate movements, you push three fingers inside her, feeling the stretch and the tightness as she struggles to take all of you. Natasha lets out a sharp gasp, her body tensing, but you’re patient, whispering soothing words of encouragement into her ear.
"Just breathe," you murmur, one hand resting on her waist to ground her. "You’re doing so well, Natty."
Gradually, her body adjusts to the stretch, and the burn begins to melt into pleasure. She’s panting now, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she finally takes all three. Her hips begin to move again, her body seeking out the pleasure despite the overwhelming sensation of being stretched so deliciously. The sensation is intoxicating, and she could easily get addicted to it—the way her pussy clenches around you, taking you in, while she watches herself in the mirror, captivated by the sight.
"That’s it," you praise, your voice low and soothing as you curl your fingers inside her. Natasha’s moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand as she loses herself in the pleasure, her reflection shaking and flushed with arousal.
Natasha’s hips move restlessly, grinding down onto your hand as her breath comes in shallow gasps. Her body feels like it’s on fire—every nerve alight with the intense pleasure that your fingers are pulling from her. She’s still trembling, her chest rising and falling erratically as she fights to stay grounded, but it’s slipping away from her with every passing second.
The mirror reflects everything—her flushed face, the way her thighs quiver, craving more of you, even though there’s nothing more to take. Her body tightens and relaxes, caught in a desperate struggle to maintain control over herself. But she’s slipping. She’s losing herself in you, in the way you fill her completely, in the overwhelming need that her body can’t seem to satiate.
Her thoughts blur, everything hazy and distant except for the overwhelming need that pulses through her. There’s no space for anything but the intense sensations, the pleasure so deep and raw it’s almost painful. Her mind can’t focus on anything but the feel of your fingers inside her, the way they stretch her, fill her, the pressure growing until it’s too much.
“I-I can’t—" Natasha gasps, her voice trembling as she tries to form a coherent sentence, but she can’t finish it. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her eyes slipping shut as her body jerks again, a sharp moan escaping her lips.
"You can," you murmur softly, your free hand sliding up to caress her thigh, your voice gentle yet firm. "You’re doing so well, Natty. Just breathe. Let go. I’ve got you."
Her breath catches at your words, the praise hitting her in a way that makes her twitch even more. It’s as if every word of encouragement digs deeper into her mind, making her desperate to please you. She wants to take more, to be good for you, to show you just how much she can handle, how much she needs you.
Her hips jerk forward again, her body trying to pull you even deeper, but it’s still not enough. It’s never enough.
"I want to... please you," Natasha whispers, her voice breathy and weak, barely audible above her own moans. Her fingers clench at the sheets, her body trembling uncontrollably as she rocks back against you, but she’s so far gone that she’s not even sure of what she’s asking anymore.
"You are pleasing me," you whisper, lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck. "You’re perfect, princess. You’re everything I want."
Her breath hitches, her heart pounding as she hears your words, and she can’t help the soft whimper that escapes her. The praise makes her head spin, makes her want more, makes her want to be everything for you.
As you worked her open, the world around you faded into a blur. Natasha’s breathy whimpers filled the space between you, mixing with the steady rhythm of your fingers. The burn and stretch she felt was becoming a delicious ache, one that ignited something deeper within her.
“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice a low murmur as you continued to move inside her. “You’re doing so well, Natty.” The praise slipped from your lips like honey, sweet and thick, wrapping around her as she began to surrender to the sensations.
With a deep inhale, Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, the tension in her body dissolved completely. She began to rock her hips, slowly at first, testing the waters, but soon it transformed into something more urgent, more desperate. You could feel the weight of her trust, a gift that was both intoxicating and thrilling.
Then, without warning, she surprised you. Natasha shifted her weight, driving your fingers deeper inside her as she began to ride them, her movements instinctive, almost primal. The way her body responded to you was mesmerising. Each rise and fall was a dance, her movements fluid and graceful, yet filled with an undeniable hunger.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, utterly captivated by the sight before you. The way she looked, the way she felt—it was overwhelming. The flush of her cheeks deepened, a beautiful shade of crimson, contrasting against the gentle curves of her body. Her eyes, once filled with uncertainty, now sparkled with a wild abandon that made your heart race.
With every thrust of her hips, you could feel the warmth of her surrounding your fingers, enveloping them in a slick, delicious heat. The way she took you deeper, riding your fingers like she was trying to chase down that elusive high—it sent a surge of primal instinct through you. You wanted to guide her, to push her further, but she was taking the lead, and you were powerless to stop it.
“Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
At your words, her eyes snapped open, locking onto yours in the mirror. There was a glint of something—was it pure submission?—in her gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. She looked so captivating, the way her body moved in tandem with your fingers, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the soft swell visible through her shirt. You could feel your pulse quicken, blood rushing to your ears as the sight of her lost in pleasure ignited a fire within you.
“Does it feel good?” you asked, wanting to hear her voice, to feel her pleasure wrap around you like a warm embrace.
“Yes,” she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. “So good.”
You could see the way her body tensed, the slight tremors that coursed through her as she adjusted to the rhythm. The way she leaned backward, pressing her back into your front, gave you an even better view of your fingers disappearing into her. Her sweat clung to her skin, highlighting the curves you wanted to worship.
“Just like that, Natty. You’re perfect.”
Her breath hitched at your words, and she pushed her hips down harder, eager to feel you filling her. Each time your fingers brushed against that sweet spot deep inside her, she gasped, the sound filled with pure ecstasy. The way she rode you, her body moving with both urgency and grace, was hypnotising. She wanted more, her mind hazy from the pleasure, she needed more.
“Look at yourself,” you urged, your voice low and sultry. “Look at how you’re losing yourself in this. How beautiful you are.”
As she gazed into the mirror, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, mixed with a newfound confidence. The tension in her body began to shift, the way she moved becoming more fluid, more assured. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and her mouth fell open in a long moan, the sound reverberating in the silence of the room.
“I—oh God,” she stuttered, her body beginning to tremble as you curled your fingers, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “I can’t… Please–I need more.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured her, your voice steady, not knowing just how serious she was. “Just let go. Trust me, Natty.”
And as if your words had cast a spell, she surrendered completely. You could see it in her eyes—the moment she slipped into subspace. The tension that had held her so tightly began to unravel, the trust she placed in you lifting her higher than she’s ever been before.
“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with need. “I want more.”
You felt a surge of pride, knowing that you were the one to take her there, to help her explore these depths. “You want more, huh?” you teased lightly, relishing in the power dynamic that flowed between you.
“Yes,” she gasped, her hips working furiously against your hand, every movement driven by instinct. The way her body tightened around you, her walls squeezing your fingers, made your breath hitch in your throat.
“Such a good girl for me,” you praised, watching as her eyes fluttered closed once more, a blissful expression painting her features. The way she was losing herself, riding your fingers with reckless abandon, filled you with an overwhelming need to see her reach her peak.
“Keep going, Natty. I want to see you come undone,” you encouraged, your voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper that wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
With each thrust, you felt her teetering on the edge, her body trembling with pleasure. “I’m so close,” she panted, her voice shaking with need.
“Let go for me,” you urged, your fingers never faltering, coaxing her closer to that precipice. “You can do it. I’m right here.”
In that moment, you felt her walls tighten one last time, her body quaking as she finally surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. “I—oh God!” she cried, the sound filled with pure bliss as she fell over the edge.
As her orgasm washed over her, you could see the way her body tensed and relaxed, the euphoric release igniting every nerve ending. You held her tightly, guiding her through it, feeling every pulse, every quiver as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.
Natasha was deep in subspace, the remnants of her first orgasm still coursing through her like a gentle wave. Her breaths were slow and steady, but the way she clung to you—her fingers gripping your arms tightly—betrayed the excitement bubbling beneath her surface. She was in a world all her own, a place where she felt safe, vulnerable, and strangely empowered.
You watched her through the mirror, captivated by the way her expression shifted from blissful surrender to a shy longing. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes sparkled with something you recognized as desire, but there was a hesitation there, too. It was a mix of trust and uncertainty, and it only made you want her more.
“Can I…?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a shy eagerness. “Can I have your cock?”
The request sent a thrill through you. “You want my strap?” you asked, your voice low and teasing. You were ready to give her anything, but you wanted to draw out the moment, to enjoy this shift in power dynamics.
“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, biting her lip, her innocence suddenly seeming more pronounced in the heat of the moment. “Please?”
You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Alright. Just let me choose one for you.” You reached for the drawer to your left, excitement bubbling in your chest as you pulled out various options. As you displayed them, you couldn’t help but notice the way Natasha’s eyes widened and her breath quickened.
But when you picked up one of the smaller straps, she shook her head vigorously. “No! I want the biggest one.”
Your brows shot up in surprise. “The biggest one? Are you sure about that?” You hadn’t even used it before—it was something your friends had gifted you as a joke, but here was Natasha, deep in subspace and adamant about wanting it.
“I’m sure,” she insisted, her voice a mixture of shyness and determination, almost as if she was testing the boundaries of her own desires. The way she bit her lip again, uncertainty creeping into her gaze, made your heart race. “Please.”
You couldn’t resist her. There was something so endearing about her shy insistence, her innocence shining through even as she pushed her own limits. “Alright, then. It’s in the other drawer, baby. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”
“Promise,” she replied, her gaze unwavering, the trust in her eyes melting any reservations you had.
With a nod, she hopped off your lap, her legs slightly wobbly but her determination shining through. She moved to the drawer, reaching inside to retrieve the oversized strap. You couldn’t help but admire the way she handled it, her shyness somehow making her seem even more alluring.
When she returned, her cheeks were bright red, and her hands trembled slightly as she held the strap. “I want it,” she stated, her voice firm but still laced with a hint of innocence. You could see how deep into the mindset she was, yet her shyness made this moment feel even more intimate.
“Alright, sweetheart,” you said softly, your voice reassuring as you got up. “But let’s take it slow. I want you to enjoy every moment.”
After you had stepped into the harness and adjusted the 12-inch strap, you moved toward the bed, but Natasha lingered behind, not immediately following. Her blush deepened as she stood by the mirror, her gaze falling shyly before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “Can you... take me where I can see myself?”
Her words caught you off guard, but the longing in her eyes made your chest tighten. “Are you sure?” you asked softly, needing to ensure she was comfortable with what she was asking.
She nodded, her eyes flicking between you and the mirror. “I’m sure,” she breathed, her lips parting with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.
You smiled, nodding as you guided her back to your previous position. Natasha settled onto your lap again, shifting just a bit higher onto your abs, her back pressed against your chest while the strap nestled against her stomach. The strap was secured snugly to your hips, its impressive length and girth nearly brushing her navel when she sat up straight. The sight alone made your pulse quicken, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be able to take it all.
You rested your hands on her waist, offering a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go slow, okay?” you murmured, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
She bit her lip nervously, her eyes wide with both eagerness and hesitation as she moved up, situated herself and began to lower herself back down. The tip of the strap nudged against her entrance, and she let out a soft gasp, her thighs trembling with the effort.
“Relax, Nat,” you whispered, guiding her down slowly. “Breathe.”
She nodded, exhaling shakily as she sank down a little more, the stretch becoming apparent as she took in the first few inches. Her brow furrowed, her body tensing as she tried to adjust to the sensation. “It’s... it’s so big,” she stammered, her voice laced with both excitement and uncertainty.
“I know, sweetheart,” you reassured her, your hands steady on her waist. “You don’t have to take it all at once. Just take what you can.”
Natasha’s breath hitched as she lowered herself a bit more, her body stretching around the strap. The burn of the stretch was evident in the way her thighs quivered and her soft whimpers filled the air. She could barely take a quarter of it, and even then, she paused, her chest heaving with effort. The sheer girth of the strap made it appear enormous, and you were astonished she was able to take this much of you.
“You’re doing so well, Natty,” you praised, your voice gentle but filled with pride. “You don’t have to rush. You’re perfect like this.”
She exhaled slowly, nodding as she leaned back against you. “It feels... different,” she murmured, her hands gripping your arms for support. “But I like it. I just... I want to take more.”
Your breath caught at her words. “You will,” you said softly, brushing your lips against her shoulder. “But let’s go at your pace.”
For a few moments, she stayed there, hovering on the strap, her body adjusting to the stretch. The sight of her reflection in the mirror—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her body clung to the strap—was almost too much to handle. But you stayed focused, rubbing gentle circles into her hips to keep her grounded.
Then, as if something shifted in her, Natasha began to move again, slowly lowering herself down further. Inch by inch, she took more of you, her body trembling with the effort but her determination unwavering. You could feel her pulse around you, the heat of her arousal making every movement slicker, easier. Still, she hadn’t taken it all—just over halfway—and the sight of the strap glistening as it nestled within her was mesmerising. The sight of her slick coating the parts she hadn’t taken yet had you hypnotised, utterly drunk on desire.
“I... I can feel it,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and thick with pleasure. “I think I can take more.”
“You’re doing so well,” you murmured against her ear, your hands holding her steady as she tried to sink lower. “Just like that, Natty. You’re amazing.”
Time seemed to blur as she kept moving, her breath ragged, her movements tentative but eager. And then, after a while, you realised Natasha had been taking more and more of you. Your eyes flicked to the mirror, watching in awe as the strap slowly disappeared into her, the stretch making her body quiver with every inch.
She still hadn’t taken it all—just a quarter left—but the sight of her reflection, of how much of you was inside her, made your control slip.
“God, look at you,” you breathed, unable to hold back. Your hands slid from her waist, moving upwards to cup her breasts, kneading them gently as she moaned under your touch. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. Taking me so well.”
Her breath hitched as you massaged her breasts, her nipples hardening against your palms. “I... I’m trying so hard,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “I want to take it all... I want to please you.”
“You are,” you reassured her, your fingers teasing her nipples as you pressed your hips up slightly, deepening the stretch. “You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, her body melting into your touch. She leaned back into your chest, her head resting on your shoulder as she focused on the sensation of you filling her up. The praise made her moan, her thighs shaking as she tried to sink down even further.
“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice husky. “You’ve got this. You’re perfect.”
Your gaze wandered back to the mirror, entranced by the image of Natasha’s flushed, needy expression and the reflection of your bodies joined together. But then something else caught your eye—a bulge pressing against her lower stomach. It was the outline of the strap inside her, stretching her so much that it was visible through her skin.
The sight made your breath catch, something primal snapping inside you. You hadn’t even realised how far you’d pushed her, how deep the strap had gone until you saw that bulge—and it ignited a fire in you that was impossible to contain.
Your grip on her breasts tightened momentarily, then slid down to her waist again. Natasha let out a soft gasp of confusion as your hands left her chest, only to clamp down firmly on her hips, pulling her down onto you in one swift, overwhelming motion.
Her eyes flew open, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her body was forced to take the rest of the strap all at once. The sheer girth stretched her impossibly wide, her thighs trembling violently as you thrust your hips up at the same time, slamming the last bit deep into her core.
“Fuck,” you groaned, the word dripping with unrestrained lust as you felt the full weight of Natasha's body sink down onto you. The strap filled her completely, the bulge in her stomach more pronounced now as you both struggled to breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
“I-I can feel it,” Natasha whimpered, her voice trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. “I can feel all of you.”
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, your voice rough with desire. “Look at you... taking all of me.”
Natasha's head was against your shoulder, her eyes wide and unfocused as her entire body shook from the overwhelming sensation. She’d never felt this full before; the sensation made her feel like she was on the verge of breaking—and yet, the pleasure was undeniable. She loved it. The overwhelming stretch, the sheer size of the strap filled her in ways she’d never experienced. Her thighs shook violently, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps, and then you saw it—tears.
Her eyes, already glassy with pleasure, began to well as she lifted herself up and then sank fully back onto you. The tears spilled over, streaming down her flushed cheeks, her lips parted as soft, broken whimpers escaped her. She was so deep into subspace, so lost in the haze of sensation and submission that her body didn’t know how to react. All she could do was feel.
You watched her, completely captivated by the sight of her like this—so vulnerable, so beautiful, her skin glistening with sweat, her cheeks stained with tears. It made your heart ache with an almost possessive kind of affection.
“There you go,” you whispered, your voice low and tender as your hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears with your fingers while using the reflection as a guide. “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at you, taking it all. You’re perfect.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to comprehend your words. The praise washed over her like a warm blanket, pulling her deeper into that fuzzy, blissed-out space. But the tears didn’t stop. If anything, they flowed even more freely now, her lips quivering as she let out another soft sob.
“Too much?” you asked, though you knew from the way her body clung to yours, the way she kept sinking down further and further, that she wasn’t going to stop. “Or do you like it, hmm? You like being so full of me?”
Her response was almost incoherent, a soft whimper and a nod, her head lolling against your shoulder as she tried to gather herself. The praise was affecting her so deeply, every word sinking into her foggy brain and amplifying the pleasure until she didn’t know what to do with herself.
But then you leaned closer, your lips brushing against her ear, and you let your voice dip into something more commanding, more degrading.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone taking on a sharper edge. “Crying just because you’re so full. You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? You can barely handle it, and yet here you are... taking all of me like a good girl.”
Natasha whimpered again, her entire body flushing deep red as the words cut through the haze in her mind. She didn’t fully understand them—her brain was too fuzzy, too far gone—but the tone, the way you said it, made her blush even harder. It was a mix of praise and something else, something darker, and it sent shivers down her spine.
“I... I’m trying,” she mumbled, her voice shaky, her lips trembling. “I’m trying so hard to be good.”
“You are good,” you reassured her, your hands moving back to her waist again, gripping her firmly as you pulled her down onto the strap again. “You’re so fucking good, Nat. So perfect for me. Taking it all like such a good girl.”
Her breath hitched as you moved her, her body too weak to resist, too deep in the pleasure to even think of stopping you. Her mind was spinning, her body trembling, and the tears kept flowing. She didn’t even know why she was crying anymore. Maybe it was the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely, or maybe it was the praise that made her heart ache with need.
“You’re so beautiful,” you continued, your voice softer now as you kissed the side of her neck, your hands still guiding her hips. “So beautiful when you cry for me.”
The tears kept coming, her body shaking with quiet sobs, but her hips kept moving, kept following your lead as you pushed her down again and again. She didn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. The pain and pleasure mixed together, a heady cocktail of sensations that had her spiralling deeper into submission.
“I don’t know if you can take me much longer,” you teased, your lips brushing against her ear as you spoke. “But you want to, don’t you? You want to be good for me.”
Natasha could barely form a response now, her head spinning with the intensity of it all. She nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and need, her brain too fuzzy to process everything. But she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to make you happy. She wanted to please you, even if it meant pushing herself to the edge of her limits, even further than now.
“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, her head falling back against your shoulder. “I want to... I want to make you happy.”
“You are,” you murmured, your tone laced with approval as you squeezed her waist, your eyes glued to her reflection in the mirror. “You’re making me so happy, sweet angel. Look at yourself. Look how good you’re doing.”
Her gaze flicked to the mirror, and she moaned at the sight. The strap pushed deep inside her, creating a visible bulge in her stomach that moved with each thrust. Her skin was flushed, hair damp with sweat, and her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked completely wrecked—and yet, so incredibly beautiful.
“You see that?” you asked, your voice thick with lust as your hands slid up her stomach, pressing down on the bulge gently. “Look how full you are, baby. You’re so perfect like this.”
The praise, the sensation, everything was too much for her. Natasha’s mind was a blur of pleasure and pain, her body stretched beyond what she thought she could take, and yet she wanted more. She needed more. Even if her body was trembling, even if the tears wouldn’t stop, she needed to make you proud.
“I’m... I’m so full,” she whimpered, her hands resting right above yours on her lower stomach, feeling the bulge there, her face bright red as she looked at herself in the mirror. “It’s so much...”
“You can take it,” you growled, your hands moving from her waist to her breasts, massaging them roughly as you thrust your hips up again. “You’ve already taken all of me, Nat. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”
The praise hit her like a tidal wave, making her moan as her body convulsed in your lap. She was too far gone to even process the words properly, her brain fuzzy and overwhelmed, but she nodded anyway, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Thank you...”
“Such a good girl,” you purred, your hands squeezing her breasts as your lips brushed against her ear again. “You love this, don’t you? Being full, being praised... You’re perfect, Nat. Absolutely perfect.”
Her body trembled at the words, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a soft, broken sob. She didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process all the feelings swirling inside her, but one thing stayed clear in her mind—she wanted to make you proud. She needed to. And she would.
Natasha’s body shuddered violently, her breath hitching in sharp, desperate gasps as she tried to stay grounded. But you could feel the way she was clenching around you, her inner muscles spasming uncontrollably as her body teetered on the edge.
You shifted your hips upward, thrusting the strap even deeper inside her. The rough movement sent a jolt through her entire body, and that was it—Natasha couldn’t hold on any longer. Her third orgasm ripped through her with devastating force, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she let out a loud, broken moan, her body convulsing in your lap.
“There it is,” you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as your hands tightened on her waist. “That’s it, Nat. You feel so good when you come for me.”
Natasha’s head lolled back against your shoulder, her body sagging against yours as she came hard, her walls tightening around the strap, her muscles clenching and releasing in frantic waves. Her hands scrabbled for purchase, one gripping your thigh while the other pressed against the mirror as if trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t. She was completely lost in it.
The tears that were already spilling down her cheeks came faster now, mingling with the sweat that coated her skin, her lips trembling as sobs of pleasure wracked her body. She was overwhelmed, her mind completely submerged in the sensation, but even through the haze of subspace, she kept moving—kept riding your strap, desperate to please you, desperate to be good.
“There you go,” you whispered, guiding her gently as she shook in your lap. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”
The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and she moaned, her body responding without thought, without control. Her hips bucked, the muscles in her thighs spasming as her fourth orgasm hit her before she had fully come down from the previous one. It was too much. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop her body from convulsing as she rode out the wave after wave of pleasure that seemed to keep rolling through her.
“Oh god, oh god,” Natasha gasped, her voice barely audible between her sobs. “I can’t... I can’t stop...”
“You don’t need to stop,” you reassured her, your voice low and soothing even as your hands gripped her tighter, pulling her back onto your strap as she tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re perfect.”
Her sobs turned to wails, absolute filth escaping her mouth, her entire body trembling as her next orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t hold herself together anymore, her body completely out of her control. Her hips jerked, moving on instinct as she ground down against you, her walls squeezing the strap so tightly that you could feel the tension all the way through your core.
The sight of her in the mirror drove you wild—the way her stomach bulged from the size of the strap, her breasts bouncing with each desperate movement, and the tears that continued to spill down her cheeks. She looked utterly destroyed, so beautifully wrecked, her skin flushed and glistening, her lips parted as broken moans and whimpers slipped from her mouth.
“Fuck, look at you,” you growled, your hands exploring every inch of her skin, fingers digging into her softness as you continued to thrust deeper with increasing force. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nat. You’re so full.”
Natasha just whimpered, her breath hitching as her body responded to your rougher touch. She was so deep in subspace now, so far gone, that she couldn’t even register the words you were saying, but she could feel them—the way they made her body react, the way her muscles tightened and trembled under your hands. She nodded, her head falling forward, her eyes glassy and distant as she let out another soft sob.
“I... I want to be good,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she tried to steady herself. “I want... I want to make you happy.”
“You are good,” you whispered back, your voice a mix of praise and possessiveness as you kept pulling her down harder onto the strap. “You’re fucking perfect, Nat. You’re making me so proud.”
The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and suddenly, Natasha was coming again—her body convulsing in your lap as her next orgasm hit her with even more intensity than the last. Her hands pressed against the mirror, her palms flat against the glass as she sobbed, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
“You’re doing so good,” you murmured, your hands sliding up from her waist to her breasts again, squeezing them as she convulsed in your lap. “Look at you. Look at how beautiful you are when you come.”
Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze fixing on the mirror, and the sight of herself—flushed, sweaty, tear-streaked, and utterly wrecked—sent another shudder through her. She moaned, her hips jerking as her body tried to keep up with the pleasure, her mind too fuzzy to process it all.
“I... I still can’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with need. “It’s too much...”
“I know, baby,” you cooed, your voice dripping with approval as you massaged her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her nipples. “You’re doing so good. Just let go. Let me take care of you.”
Her body obeyed without question, her hips moving on their own as she sank down onto the strap again, her walls clenching around it as another orgasm built inside her. She was completely lost to it now, her mind a haze of pleasure and submission, her body trembling as she came again and again, each orgasm rolling into the next until she didn’t know where one ended and the other began.
“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your hands sliding down to her waist again as you thrust up into her with more force. “You’re taking me so well, Nat. You’re perfect.”
Natasha’s response was a soft, broken sob, her body collapsing against you as the pleasure overwhelmed her completely. She was gone, completely lost in subspace, her mind a blur of sensations and praise, and all she could do was ride it out, her body trembling in your lap as you guided her through each wave of pleasure.
Natasha’s body continued to tremble against yours, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps, her chest heaving with the effort. The storm of pleasure was still coursing through her, but her hips had stilled, no longer able to move after the relentless waves of orgasms that had wracked her body.
You could feel the twitching of her muscles, the way her body clenched around the strap still buried deep inside her, but she wasn’t grinding and you weren’t thrusting anymore. She was utterly spent, her head resting against your shoulder, her tears still trickling down her flushed cheeks as she tried to catch her breath.
Gently, you loosened your grip on her waist, moving your hands with deliberate care as you wrapped your arms around her trembling form. Natasha whimpered softly as you pulled her close, her body still so sensitive, every slight movement sending aftershocks rippling through her.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft and soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity that had filled the air just moments before. “You did so good, Natty baby. Just breathe.”
Natasha’s body relaxed a little in your hold, though she was still shaking, her limbs twitching with the lingering ecstasy that coursed through her. She made a small, broken sound—half a sob, half a whimper—as her body gave in fully, collapsing against you, completely spent. You cradled her carefully, holding her close, one hand stroking her arm while the other stayed on her breast, grounding her in your touch.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re safe. You’re perfect.”
She let out a shaky breath, her head lolling to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, her mind still foggy from the intensity of everything. You could feel the way her heartbeat was gradually slowing, the frantic rhythm calming as you continued to hold her, shushing her softly, letting her know she wasn’t alone in this vulnerable moment.
Your hand on her breast moved gently, tracing soft circles around her nipple, a grounding sensation to remind her she was safe in your arms. Her body twitched under your touch, her chest still heaving, but she didn’t try to move away. She stayed nestled against you, letting the warmth of your embrace calm her.
“You’re okay, Natty,” you murmured softly, your lips brushing against her ear. “Just stay with me. I’ve got you.”
She nodded weakly, her body sagging further into your lap, her legs spread open as she remained impaled on the strap. It was a quiet, intimate moment now—no longer about the intensity of lust but about something deeper, more tender. Her body was twitching from the aftershocks, the occasional clench around the strap still reminding you of how deep you were inside her, but she wasn’t trying to take more. She was just… being.
Natasha let out another shaky breath, her fingers gripping your arm as if to anchor herself. The tears that had been flowing earlier were slowing, but her face remained wet, her cheeks flushed and streaked with saltwater. You watched her closely in the mirror, your gaze softening as you took in the sight of her—completely vulnerable, completely yours.
“There you go,” you whispered, brushing your thumb gently across her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. So perfect.”
She whimpered softly at the praise, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment before they closed again. Her breathing was slowly evening out, the shaky gasps becoming steadier as you held her close, your hands moving in gentle, soothing motions. You could feel her muscles slowly unclenching, her body relaxing into you, no longer overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.
“It’s okay now,” you whispered, resting your chin on her shoulder as you held her tighter. “Just breathe with me.”
You stayed like that for a while, the two of you wrapped in each other, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet breaths and the faint hum of the world outside. The strap was still inside her, but it was a comfort—something grounding for her as she came down from the high of subspace.
Natasha’s body, though still trembling, seemed to relax even further, her head turning slightly as she nestled into your neck. She was quiet now, her soft whimpers replaced with gentle sighs, her body twitching occasionally but no longer driven by the need to move. She was content to just be held, to let you take care of her.
You pressed another soft kiss to her hair, your hands still stroking her arms and chest, reminding her that you were there—that you had her.
“You’re so good for me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, a quiet affirmation that she didn’t need to do anything more. “So perfect, Nat. I’m so proud of you.”
Her response was a quiet, barely-there hum, her body settling even more as she melted into your embrace. The tension was gone now, replaced with a soft, languid peace that settled over both of you. You could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her back moved against yours, and it grounded you just as much as it did her.
You cradled Natasha in your arms for what felt like forever, the quiet comfort between you speaking louder than any words. She was completely limp, her body heavy against yours, her breaths soft and steady now.
After a while, you pressed a soft kiss to her temple and whispered gently, “I should clean you up, baby. Let me run you a bath.”
Natasha hummed in disagreement, her head shaking slightly as she leaned further into you, her eyes still closed. She wasn’t ready to move, wasn’t ready to let go of the feeling of you inside her, keeping her grounded and safe. You smiled softly at her stubbornness, her bratty behaviour making you shake your head in amusement. The bulge in her stomach, still there and almost casual now, was like a silent reminder that this wasn’t the last time something like this would happen whenever she decided to brat out.
You chuckled again, warmth spreading through your chest. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and you loved her even more in these quiet, vulnerable moments.
“Alright, alright,” you murmured, running your hand gently along her side, “we’ll stay here for a bit longer. But when you’re ready, I’m cleaning you up.”
Natasha didn’t respond, just snuggled deeper into you, her body still. Her face was completely relaxed, her lips parted slightly as she rested against you, lost in the lingering haze of subspace. You held her close, stroking her arm softly as you watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, content to stay like this for as long as she needed.
It was about ten minutes later when you felt her stir. A faint wince crossed her face as she shifted in your lap, her muscles clearly starting to ache after the intense session. She let out a small, pained whimper, her brow furrowing as she tried to move slightly, the soreness settling in.
You kissed her head gently, your voice soft and reassuring. “Ready for that bath now?”
This time, she didn’t protest. She nodded weakly, her eyes still closed but her body slowly coming back to her as she let out a quiet, “Mhm.”
You helped her sit up, your hands gentle as you guided her, though even the small movement made her wince again. As Natasha began to lift herself off the strap, you couldn’t help but groan at the sight. She was slightly gaping, her body clearly feeling the aftereffects of the stretch, and the sight was enough to make your stomach twist with desire all over again.
Natasha blushed deeply, her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she noticed your reaction. You saw her glance in the mirror, catching the way her body looked before quickly averting her gaze, embarrassed but unable to hide the small, sheepish smile playing on her lips.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice a little rough from the sight of her. Natasha’s blush deepened, and she looked away again, biting her lip in that shy, adorable way she did when she was overwhelmed with praise.
You discarded the toy to the side, knowing you’d deal with it later. Right now, Natasha was your priority, and aftercare was the only thing on your mind.
“Come here, Nat,” you whispered, helping her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. She wobbled slightly, her legs weak from the intensity of everything, but you held her steady, guiding her slowly toward the bathroom.
Once you had the bath running, you sat her down on the edge of the tub, kneeling in front of her as you gently cleaned her up, wiping away the remnants of the session with a soft, damp cloth. Natasha was quiet, her eyes half-lidded as she watched you with a tired, hazy gaze, her body still relaxed in the warmth of your presence.
“You’re doing so good,” you murmured as you cleaned her, your hands gentle and careful. “I’m so proud of you, Nat.”
She let out a soft hum in response, her cheeks still a little pink from earlier, but she didn’t try to speak. She was too exhausted, too deep in the afterglow to do anything but watch you with that sleepy, content look on her face.
Once the bath was ready, you helped her into the warm water, holding her hand as she slowly sank into the tub, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as the heat soothed her aching muscles. You stayed by her side, your fingers tracing soft patterns along her arm, watching as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge of the tub.
“Are you feeling better?” you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Mhm,” she mumbled, her voice soft but hoarse from all the moaning and gasping earlier.
You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good.”
For the next while, you stayed with her, washing her hair gently, your hands careful as you massaged her scalp, the soothing motions helping to relax her even more. Natasha let out quiet, contented sighs every now and then, her body completely at ease in your care.
When the bath was over, you wrapped her in a soft towel, drying her off gently before helping her into a comfortable, oversized shirt. She was still quiet, her movements slow and sleepy, but she leaned into your touch every chance she got, seeking out your warmth and comfort.
You led her back to the bedroom, guiding her under the covers before climbing in beside her. As soon as you settled in, Natasha curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her arms wrapping around you as she let out a soft, contented sigh.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the gratitude in her tone was clear.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around her and holding her close. “Always, Natty,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “I’ll always take care of you.”
She hummed softly in response, already drifting off to sleep in your arms, her body finally fully at peace.
a/n- i need to start writing shorter fics oh my god. thanks for reading!
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Work Wife - Two
Masterlist
Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons c”Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?
Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)
Series Masterlist - One
After two days of you being frosty towards Joel and Joel desperately trying to make up for whatever he had done to upset you, you decided that it was pointless to be upset with him. He hadn't known your reasoning for going to his house so the fact he had a girl there wasn't really a valid reason to be angry at him.
If you were being honest you were more angry at yourself. Your pride had been wounded and that was something that you needed to work through on your own. So by Wednesday, you were somewhat back to being smiley and sweet but there was still a tension there that you knew would take time to dissipate. You just hoped that your date with Simon would take your mind off what had happened.
Your second date with Simon went even better than the first. He was sweet, taking you to a restaurant he remembered you mentioning you loved, and after, he took you for a few drinks at a new gin bar that had opened up. So inevitably, two dates turned into three.
It felt like with each interaction you shared with Simon, the less seeing Joel every day, and knowing that he didn't return your feelings, hurt you. What you didn't realise was that your budding new relationship with Simon was tearing Joel apart. Simon couldn't help but gush to the other contractors about how special you were or how amazingly things were going.
How he was starting to think that you might be the one.
That statement made Joel want to find a remote canyon so that he could lob Simon into it. Yet he knew he had no right to feel jealous. It's not like he'd ever had the guts to go for it. It was his own fault that he was suffering now. Yet that didn't make him hate Simon any less. What he hated more was you talking to him about the dates that his 'so-called' friend was taking you on.
It was killing him.
"Oh Joel, you would have loved the walk Simon and I went on over the weekend." You gushed as you sipped at your coffee "I would show you some pictures but I'm still waiting for them to come back from the developers so…"
"That's fine." Joel replied, trying to keep his tone from sounding as pained as he felt.
"Perhaps you could take Eliza there sometime." You continued, completely oblivious to his torment "It's so romantic and-"
"Eliza and I are just casual." Joel interrupted and you couldn't help but snort.
"Please." You rasped "She's practically living with you now. Fuck buddies don't spend most nights together."
"We're just hanging out."
"And I'm the Queen of England." You rolled your eyes and how oblivious he was to what was going on straight in front of him "If you're just looking for casual then perhaps you need to tell her that."
"I did! I have…" He argued, his hip cocking to one side as he rested his on it.
"Well, perhaps you need to have that conversation with her again because from an outsider's point of view. You and her seem pretty serious."
Joel's stomach twisted at the thought that he was leading Eliza on. She was sweet and he liked her but he wasn't looking to settle down. Not yet.
"Talk to her Joel." you said sweetly as you placed your hand on his "Don't lead her on."
So talk to her he did.
…
Eliza was in the kitchen when he returned that evening. There was already a tense atmosphere hanging over the house as he entered but he didn't have time to ponder why. Not when he needed to get things out in the open.
"Hey." He said gingerly as he stepped into the kitchen and Eliza turned to greet him.
"You're back late." She stated as she placed a plate of food down in front of him before sitting on the chair across from him, her arms crossed.
"Meeting with the wood supplier ran late." He replied and Eliza nodded.
"Eat up." She said, watching him then as he nervously pushed his food around his plate, little appetite when he had an anvil hanging over his head.
"What's the matter with you this evening?"
"I don't think we should do this anymore?" He stated simply, eyes drifting from his plate to Eliza.
"Can I ask why?"
"When we started 'this' up, I told you that I wasn't looking for anything serious and well… it's been brought to my attention that it kinda has and that I need to be honest with you… Make sure I'm not stringing you along."
"And who said that you are?" She demanded and Joel shook his head.
"It doesn't matter… what matters is that I don't want to-"
"Was Pip wasn't it?" Eliza growled "You know she has feelings for you right? Only reason she's seeing shit that's not there."
"Eliza… Pip, doesn't have feelings for me. This is just about us and I-"
"You really are blind aren't you." Eliza cackled and Joel stopped in his tracks.
"Blind to what?"
"Pip is head over heels for you… She told me so herself back when we went for those work drinks and I-"
"She told you that?" Joel interrupted and Eliza huffed before nodding "She told you she was in love with me?"
"Well, her exact words were that she was crazy about you but she knew you didn't feel the same and so she's never told you." Eliza waved off the statement like she wasn't telling Joel everything he'd ever wanted to hear.
Were you crazy about him?
"Look, I told you that I didn't want anything serious either and I still don't." Eliza stated as she shrugged "If this has gotten a little too cosy then we can cool it."
Joel wasn't really sure what to say. The information that you possibly feel the same way for him is running laps around his head.
"Joel?"
"Right… yeah… sorry." He said and he shook his head and returned to reality "Look I still think it's best that we just call it quits." He stated plainly, wincing at the growl it pulled from Eliza.
"Fine." She practically spat at him, getting up abruptly and grabbing her stuff as she went "I'll see myself out."
Joel didn't even get a chance to speak before she was slamming the door behind her. Leaving him to ponder over the events that had just transpired. What should he do?
Should he talk to you about it?
Is that what you had come here to talk to him about all those weeks ago?
It would explain your reaction to Eliza being there.
He knew he couldn't, not, talk to you about this. He needed to know whether or not you still felt something for him, because if you did he wanted to fight for you. For with you, he wanted something real.
…
Months went by before Joel plucked up the courage to talk to you. Each time he decided it was time, he talked himself out of it. Whether it was a story that you or Simon had told him about your latest adventures as the world's most perfect couple or just him watching the two of you together. But, finally, he had decided that enough was enough… He needed to be honest with you and lay his cards out on the table. He had thought long and hard about what it was he wanted to say and so had arranged for the two of you to meet up for a coffee on Saturday. This wasn't a conversation that he wanted to have with you in the office.
He still had to labour through an afternoon of Simon gushing to the guys about how things were going with the two of you and up until now it had been fairly easy to drone it out.
"So you two finally did the deed huh?" Piped up a voice, grabbing Joel's attention.
Joel had known that you and Simon hadn't been intimate yet. You had confided in him about how you had never been with anyone and that you wanted to save yourself for the right guy. Obviously, you had decided that Simon was that guy.
"Fuck did we." Simon practically growled "Was so worth the wait… Girl's so hot… we-"
"Let's not discuss such personal matters at work, hey chaps?" Joel tried to sound calm but his stomach was twisting in knots.
The knowledge that you and Simon had been intimate was tearing him up inside. Had Eliza been wrong about your feelings for him? Had she lied? Either way, he wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that you and Simon were now sleeping together.
"Come on boss…" Teased Rick, one of Joel's youngest employees "Just 'cus ya jealous."
"What?" Joel growled as he turned to face the younger man.
"Well, the guys all told me how you're sweet on Si's girl. It's not his fault you missed your shot."
Joel felt his anger start to boil over as he said "Keep it professional Rick or you'll be looking for new employment." Walking away then to cool down.
…
You were just clearing the dishes away whilst Simon wiped down the sides, always the gentleman. 8 months had shot by in the blink of an eye and it felt like he'd blended so perfectly into your home life. It was like the two of you had always done this. Things were so seamless.
"So Joel threatened to fire Rick today." He stated as he wiped his hands dry with a dishcloth.
"Really?" You asked and your brows shot up in surprise "Why?"
"We were talking about you and me and Rick kinda ribbed Joel a bit." Simon replied, shrugging.
"Ribbed him how?"
"We were just talking about how you and I had… well you know and Joel got pissed. Rick kinda teased him about how he's sweet on you and how he missed out on his chance with you."
"One, I'd rather you didn't discuss our sex life with my colleagues… Two, Joel's not sweet on me he's with Eliza and three… even if he was, that's a pretty dickish thing to do." You admonished and Simon chuckled as he replied.
"Joel is still very much sweet on you and he and Eliza broke up."
"What?" You were shocked to learn this information and hurt that Joel hadn't told you.
"Yeah, been like 6 or 7 months now… guys probably got blue balls." Simon chuckled as he tossed the dishcloth in his hands onto the counter.
You'd always talked about everything Joel and so to learn that he had broken things off with Eliza and he hadn't talked to you about it stung a little. Had things between you really become that strained? They hadn't been the same since you'd gone to his house to talk to him about how you felt. They certainly hadn't been since you had started dating Simon.
"You're not sweet on him are you?" Asked Simon, pulling you from your thoughts.
"Hmm?" You hummed as you looked at your boyfriend who was watching you closely, analysing every expression that crossed your face.
"Joel, you aren't sweet on him too are you?"
The colour drained from your face as your mouth moved to answer him but no words left your lips. The longer you took to respond, the more frustrated Simon grew.
"You are, aren't you?"
"Simon…"
"No, don't try and spin me any bullshit." He growled out and you flinched at his tone "Are you in love with Joel… Yes or no?"
"Yes… but-"
"I need to leave." Simon choked as he threw his hands up when you tried to reach for him "I can't be around you right now."
"Simon please…" You pleaded but he was having none of it.
He just grabbed his stuff and left.
Leaving you sobbing in his wake. \
…
You sat in the cafe you and Joel had arranged to meet at, your eyes red raw from crying all night and most of this morning. You were sipping on an overly sweet latte. Needing the sugar to try and boost your mood. Joel was already ten minutes late but that wasn't unusual for them man. No doubt he'd be stumbling through the cafe doors in a few moments, huffing and puffing whilst he rambled on about what it was that had delayed him.
Only after half an hour… he still wasn't there.
You were on your second sugary coffee and coming to the painful realisation that Joel had stood you up. Who gets stood up by their best friend? Well, it would seem that you do and you wondered if it was because of what Simon had told you yesterday. How Rick had teased Joel about missing out with you when he'd learned you'd lost your virginity to the man you'd been going steady with for almost 9 months. That thought made you go from sad to plain pissed.
Was he seriously going to stand you up because he was jealous that you had slept with Simon?
Finishing your coffee you stomped out the door and towards your car. You weren't going to let him get away with this. Not after everything you had been through in the last 12 hours.
You don't recall the drive to Joel's house but you feel your anger flare when you see his truck on his drive. You pull up behind him, get out of the car, then make a point of slamming the door in the hope that he'll hear you coming.
You were pounding on the door, not caring if you were attracting attention. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. An exhausted Joel opened the door and you felt anger flare at the thought that he'd stood you up because he'd slept it.
"Pip this isn't-"
"A good time?" You growled, "It never is Joel."
"Please, I'm sorry I stood you up but-"
"No, I'm going to speak." Venom dropped from your words as you poked his chest "Simon told me what happened yesterday and I just can't believe that you would stand me up because I slept with the man I had been dating for over half a year!"
"That's not… I didn't stand you up on purpose I-"
"You what? You overslept? Your latest conquest only just left?" You barged past him with a strength you didn't know you possessed as you started to look around the house.
"Pip-"
"Where is she… where is the reason you decided to stand me up the morning after Simon broke up with me." You choked as your hurt started to slip through the cracks.
"Simon dumped you?" Joel asked and you nodded "Why?"
"Because I'm in love with you Joel… and I-"
"Do you want to scream any louder?" Growled Joel's mother as she walked down the stairs with a bundle in her arms "You're lucky she's so milk drunk. Not even the apocalypse would wake her right now." She said as she handed Joel what you could now see was a newborn with a gorgeous caramel complexion.
"Oh, Pip sweetheart, so lovely to see you." Said Mrs Miller as she pulled your stunned body into an awkward hug "It's been a bit of a mad house for the past 12 hours." She chuckled as she walked over to Joel to give him a kiss on the cheek before pecking the baby's brow. "I'll let Joel catch you up, I need to get diapers and formula. Will be as quick as I can sweetheart."
"Thanks, Mum." He said, smiling at her as she waved at you all and left.
Finally leaving you and Joel alone with this tiny baby you had just learned about.
"You… You have a baby." It wasn't a question.
Joel nodded as he looked down at the tiny person in his arms, a sweet smile gracing his lips as he brought her brow to his lips.
"I have a baby." He confirmed and you let out a shaky breath as you continued to stare at her.
"Is she…?"
"Eliza's?" He finished for you and you nodded "Yeah." He replied as he walked towards his couch and carefully sat himself down, watching as you followed him and sat down beside him "She came by last night. Dumped her in my arms and said she was mine and that she wanted nothing to do with being a mother."
Your eyes snapped to his at this statement and found him looking at you with a tearful expression "Left me enough formula to last me till tonight. No cot, clothes, nothing."
"How could she just leave her?" You sobbed as you looked at the perfect little girl in his arms and Joel just shook his head.
"She said she didn't want to be a mum." He replied "After we broke up she moved back to Austin. Had no idea she was pregnant. Not even Gloria did… then last night she just turned up at my door with her."
"Oh, Joel."
"I'm not ready to be a dad am I?" He asked as he looked at you again, his expression indicating just how scared he was.
"You're going to be the best father to this little girl." You said as you cupped his cheek and moved his face so that he looked you in the eye "You aren't going to be alone in this." You promised him "I will be here whenever you need me to be… day or night I will be here."
Joel nodded. Knocking a few tears loose and you watched as they rolled down his slightly stubbled cheek.
"Thank you, Pip." He breathed, giving you a small smile before he looked down at his little girl again "Her name's Sarah." He said after a short pause and you smiled sweetly at her.
"Hi, Sarah." You said softly as you leaned in to look at her better "Well aren't you just perfect."
"Would you like to hold her?" He asked and you nodded eagerly before carefully taking her off of him and settling into the plush cushions at your back.
You gazed at her sleeping form for what felt like an age. Her perfect little button nose and long black lashes making you swooning.
"I'll let you off." You piped up after a while and Joel hummed he as looked at you in confusion "For standing me up… She's a pretty good excuse."
Joel chuckled as he rested his head on your shoulder, you both continuing to gaze at her.
"We'll get through this…" He said and you nodded.
"Together."
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