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alheria · 11 months

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Fresh wind on a hot day (9/9)

-That's why police officers and firefighters should stay away from each-other! For the sake of their sanity! -Street shouted, furiously searching for something in the living room, while Buck stood in the doorway, curiously observing his irritated partner from a safe distance. After knowing him an awfully long time, he knew well-enough this was just venting, not actually a beginning of some nasty argument, and it was better to watch, minimise any interaction.

-You are sixteen years too late for such realisation, babe. -he pointed out calmly, not sure what was happening, not even what Jim was looking for. Possibly something job-related since he was starting his shift soon. -Can I help you somehow? -suggested, and perhaps should’ve stayed quiet because the cold glance he got could surely freeze Hell.

-Actually, yes! You can help by not throwing your shit into my drawers! -the Omega barked while going through some papers.

-What's dad's problem? -wondered a quiet, curious voice of their twelve-year-old daughter, whose arrival Buck failed to notice, despite actually waiting for her all this time so he can drop her off at school on his way to work.

-Wish I knew, kiddo. -the firefighter sighed, glancing down at their unamused child, who was by now definitely used to Jim’s random outbursts. -Ready? -he asked.

-Is anyone ever ready to go to school? -Danielle frowned, making her father laugh. She didn’t look a bit like Street, but damn, her attitude was identical.

-Fair point. -the Alpha agreed. He wasn’t a fan of school at her age either. -Are you prepared tho?

-Yes, let’s go. -she nodded before looking at her phone and saying:

-Ruby is already waiting.

-Jim, we're leaving. -Buck informed, spinning the car keys on his finger. He really wished that they had time to talk the odd situation through, however they were both just too damn busy.

-Oh...um...okay! -the cop mumbled, not stopping the search even for a moment. -Stay safe. Both of you. -he added rather absently. -I'll see you later.

-Jim. -the firefighter sternly demanded attention, causing the older man to instantly look at him in both annoyance and confusion. -Love you. -he said, his voice soft, and affectionate. There was no way there were parting ways like that, in some weird hostility. They did once, then Jim nearly died at work. He got shot with an armour piercing round, had to undergo several surgeries and based on how bad his condition was, everyone thought he’s not gonna make it. Luckily he did, and never again they made the same mistake. No matter how mad they were at each-other, “I love you” had to be said because it might’ve been their last goodbye. So hearing those words, Street’s murderous gaze softened immediately, a warm smile appeared on his tired, gently wrinkled face as he stared at his husband in the same manner he looked at him when they just started dating, with fondness and reverence.

-I love you too. -he responded, making Buck very happy and fully ready to leave for the day.

---

-Who’s picking me up today? -Danielle wondered when they hit the road.

-Uncle Luca, I believe. -the Alpha hummed. He never thought about that before they had a baby, but having such a big “family” was truly a blessing when it came to taking care of a kid while working in a demanding, busy field. Especially Luca, who was truly a gift that kept giving. Not being interested in starting a family, but absolutely loving children, he eagerly took over quite a few of their responsibilities after switching from active duty to training.

-Finally. -the girl huffed. She has not seen her favourite person in over a week, and it started inflaming her irritable nature.

-Ouch! Right where it hurts! -the firefighter whined, theatrically clenching onto his chest. -What does uncle Luca have that we don’t? How do we win your cold heart, dear child? -he then asked, briefly looking at the smiling girl through the rear mirror.

Danielle was an absolute miracle. After Jim got shot, they were told their chances to have kids were very slim if any due to all that extensive abdominal damage he suffered. Street struggled horribly to accept this reality in which he not only is a stupid Omega, but one unable to give his partner children. Buck to this day felt heartbroken at the painful memory of him holding the absolute love of his life shedding silent tears for hours. And he didn’t even care, suppressed the need to be a biological father long before they met. He only wanted to be loved. So after weeks of deep reassurance it changed nothing, they moved on, kept loving each-other as usual until some two years later when Jim randomly got violently sick and their world turned upside down in the best way possible.

-He takes me to fun places, buys me things, and lets me stay up late. -Danielle explained. -You just need to spoil me like uncle Luca does, easy.

-He does indeed spoil you! And then we suffer the consequences! -Buck sighed, remembering all the “But uncle Luca…!”. -Maybe you should consider moving in with him if he’s so amazing. -he pouted, making his daughter roll her eyes.

-Nuh-uh. His cooking is terrible. I can’t live off snacks, and takeaway is too expensive to eat every day.

-So you are somewhat smart after all. -the blond grinned, proud that his little girl appreciates his cooking efforts. Ever since they've learned they will be parents, he's been on a mission to learn in the tiniest detail how to properly feed a child at all stages of growth. Therefore, at this point he was a true master chef, fluent in nutrients and skilled in the art of sneaking yucky veggies into meals.

-Hey, rude! -she giggled. -I’m very smart!

-I know, I know, just teasing. -the Alpha assured while they pulled over in front of a house where a young girl was sitting on a porch. -You’re almost as smart as I am.

-Wow. Nice self-burn dad. -Danielle snorted as she watched her best friend rush towards them. The second Ruby got inside, and they drove away, Buck didn't exist anymore, two girls too engaged in intense gossiping to acknowledge him. Which was fine, he was glad his daughter somehow managed to make a close friend despite not being the nicest person in the world. It was hard to admit, but damn, she could be harsh for a twelve-year-old who misleadingly happened to look like an angel with her long blond hair and bright blue eyes.

Once he dropped off the chatty duo at school, it was time to get to work, and hopefully finish dealing with the mountain of paperwork today. Honestly, he hated doing it, and wished he didn't have to, but that's sadly what you get when you're too ambitious for your own good and end up being promoted to Fire Captain. He never wanted to hold such a position, although as years passed by, the injured leg started to noticeably deteriorate, slowing him down as it weakened progressively. Which meant he had to either leave FD or accept an offer to take over for a retiring captain of a different station. So obviously, loving his job too much to quit, he chose the latter. Leaving the team he spent all of his career alongside wasn’t easy, however it was the right thing to do. Luckily, his new crew turned out to be a young, friendly bunch, one he got along with very quickly. And today they were welcoming a probie, which was very exciting, and he just couldn’t wait to arrive at the station and meet yet another member of his weirdly big, amazing family.

---

Going to work after finding the documents he needed, Jim felt guilty as fuck for snapping at Buck. Again. And the fact their daughter had to witness his frustration made him feel like a proper asshole.

Lately, he's been stressed real good because, apparently, being a team leader is not easy at all, despite everyone else making it look like it’s basically effortless. There was this overwhelming responsibility for the lives of his teammates constantly eating him alive and a never shrinking paperwork mountain driving him batshit crazy. Of course, Street deeply loved being in charge, although consequences of such love were quite severe, and sometimes negatively impacted his private life.

-Damn, Jim, you look like you're looking forward to those days off. -Chris whistled when he entered the locker room. Which was a funny thing to be said by someone who looked like they didn’t get any sleep last night. And the night before.

-Right back at you. -he grinned, patting her shoulder as he passed by. -I'll need to have a chat with higher-ups about this scheduling, we all are running on fumes at this point, I don’t care there is not enough manpower.

-Yeah, like what the fuck. -his second-in-command agreed. One team was out of commission after a meth lab explosion that injured all squad members, and forced everyone else to work overtime until they recover. It was exhausting, those extra long shifts, especially busy ones when time to rest was scarce. Like today. The team got a call literally the second they were ready to roll, a case of domestic violence turned into a hostage situation.

Unfortunately, the backup request came in too late. Once SWAT entered the building and apprehended the suspect, the victim was already gone, brutally beaten to death by their own partner.

-Oh God. -Street exhaled heavily, looking at the massacred Omega lying lifelessly on the floor in a large pool of its own blood. -What the fuck happened in here?

-That’s what you get for not being an obedient little bitch like you’re supposed to! -the clearly high on adrenaline, very agitated perp screamed upon being escorted outside by two officers.

-...I don’t even know what to say. -Chris shook her head as she approached. -It’s beyond fucked up.

-Poor guy. -Jim whispered, feeling raw anger creep up on him. -Can't imagine what he must've been going through for fuck knows how long. Sick bastard.

He also couldn't imagine the luck he had to have a partner who never got as much as mildly annoyed. His Alpha treated him with utmost respect and never questioned their unusual “relationship roles”. Every day, no matter what, he made sure both his favourite people felt loved by him, and would never dare to hurt either of them. Was the best person in his world.

Fuck, he seriously needed to apologize to his husband.

---

After finishing the particularly busy shift, Buck was more than happy to be back home and finally able to sit down for more than twenty minutes. The newbie, Chloe, seemed absolutely fantastic, but sadly they didn’t get to know her too much due to all those calls they had today. His poor leg screamed for mercy, so he got himself an ice pack and happily merged with the couch, accompanied by a comfort show as he awaited the cop’s return. Which did not happen anytime soon, four episodes later to be exact.

-Thank you for not being a crazy psycho. -the Omega announced upon entering the living room.

-Well, thank you very much for such a delightful compliment, dear husband. My pleasure to satisfy. -the firefighter mocked, closely observing his partner, who, honestly, didn’t look too good, slowly walk towards him. -Did something bad happen at work? -he asked, seeing that absent look in those tired, darkened eyes. It usually meant he witnessed something pretty upsetting.

-Yeah. -Jim admitted, heavily dropping onto the couch. -But I don't wanna talk about it. -quickly added, throwing his pounding head onto the backrest and taking a deep breath as he stared at the ceiling. -Where's Danielle?

-Learning for a test, apparently. -the blonde informed, grabbing one of his husband’s cold, rough hands and giving it a comforting squeeze. If Street didn’t want to go into details, there was not much more he could do to help him process whatever traumatic event had happened.

-Of course she is. -the officer snorted. Knowing their daughter, she was either drawing or chatting with Ruby, possibly both. -I'm sorry Buck. For being a pain. -he then whispered, shifting himself to rest his cheek on his Alpha’s shoulder.

-It's okay sweetheart. -the younger man hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his Omega’s palm. -I'm well-used to it.

-I'm sure you are. -the cop sighed, aware he is not the easiest person to live with. -Thank you for not giving up on me. I know it's been...hard, lately. I've been hard on you. You don't deserve to be treated like that. You deserve better.

-Jim...you're an idiot. -the firefighter rolled his eyes at this stupid implication.

-Ouch. -Street pouted, playfully nudging his husband with an elbow, his hair getting ruffled in an act of revenge.

-I could never, ever, imagine having a better partner. -Buck confessed, pulling the Omega to rest his overthinking head on his thigh before continuing talking. -For me, you are absolutely perfect. Every relationship goes through hardships, but we still make it work, no matter what. You've been there when I needed you the most, not once I doubted how much you love me, and you happened to give me the most amazing, only slightly problematic daughter. Don't ever think you are not enough because to me, you are everything.

-...did you just call our child problematic? -Jim chuckled, rolling onto his back to have a better view of his man’s smiling face.

-I mean, she had to get something from my pool of genes other than good looks. -the firefighter laughed. -Please don't tell her I said that.

-I wouldn't dare. -the officer assured, reaching for his Alpha’s cheek and guiding him into a long, fond kiss. -I love you Buck. You make my life so much brighter.

---

The next morning was nothing but pure bliss. Street got over eight uninterrupted hours of sleep, he was off work for two days, and there was a beautiful person peacefully resting on his chest.

-Good morning, my love. -the cop hummed, gently brushing through the silky strands, while the other hand rubbed the scarred nape in order to wake the other man up.

-Mhm. Good morning. -Buck murmured, happily leaning into this pleasant touch. Nothing changed over those sixteen long years, he was still being showered with love every single day, for which he was incredibly grateful. -I cannot believe we both have the full weekend off. I can’t even remember the last time it happened.

-Is it off-off though, or did you make a ton of plans for us? -Jim asked. His partner was a true enthusiast of proactivity with so much natural energy, he needed to be constantly busy to not go insane.

-Damn, husband, you know me so well. -the firefighter chuckled, pulling himself up to join their lips in an affectionate kiss. -I made a ton of plans, we’re going to the science centre first at eleven but need to do laundry beforehand, so I suggest getting up right away.

-I don’t want to get up. Why are you such a killjoy? -the older man whined, loosening his hold a little regardless.

-How about a compromise? -Buck suggested as he began to get up. -I’ll go make coffee and you’ll come get it.

-I hate compromises, stay in bed. -Street huffed, grabbing the Alpha’s arm to prevent him from going anywhere.

-Nope. -the blonde grinned before stealing one more kiss and quickly leaving the room.

The Omega didn't move until the beautiful smell of fresh coffee reached him, fully waking up his half-asleep brain. Promptly, but lazily, he got himself out of bed and into the kitchen, where his husband has already started making breakfast. What the cop decided to interrupt by plastering himself to the taller man’s back, and peppering his neck with kisses while he inhaled that lovely scent. Solely because he felt like doing it. So they stayed in this close, silent embrace for a few delightful minutes, parted only when their little girl showed up, and probably needed to be fed.

-What's the plan for today? -Danielle asked as she sat herself on a stool, aware no day off in their household was left unplanned. Hearing they are going to see the newest exhibition in the science centre, her blue eyes instantly lit up with excitement. Just like her father, she had a huge interest in anything science related. -With Ruby? -she wondered, hoping to spend this fun day alongside her best friend.

-I think at this point it’s safe to assume Ruby is a default package deal. Of course we’re taking her with us. -Buck confirmed. Ruby’s mom had a long surgery to perform today, so they agreed to swap custody. -Oh, and better pack some stuff because you’re having a surprise sleepover at Ruby’s house afterwards.

-What?! -Danielle gasped in utter surprise, her jaw nearly on the floor. -Ugh! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! -she then shouted angrily before sprinting to her room to probably get ready.

-I don’t think she knows what “surprise” means. -Jim snorted, gazing at his husband’s shocked expression from above the coffee cup.

-...is this the point in her life when she starts to hate us? -the blonde whispered, absently looking at the doorway the girl stormed out through.

-Babe, please don’t cry. -the cop frowned, seeing tears cloud his husband’s sight. -Fuck. C’mere. -he ordered, grabbing the Alpha’s arm and pulling him into a hug. -Sweetheart, I assure you, there is no way she’ll ever hate you. -hummed, reassuringly rubbing the taller man’s back as he sobbed quietly for the next five minutes or so before returning to cooking. Street was pretty sure once the firefighter "calmed down" and went to do laundry right after breakfast, he cried some more in solitude. He was still a very emotional person.

As expected, Danielle did not begin to hate her father, who forgot he was sad the moment Ruby arrived and the overexcited trio engaged in a heated conversation about the exhibition’s theme. It was fascinating to watch a grown up man shamelessly embrace his inner child. In a good way that is, although the officer felt a tad out of place while following the three kids through the filled with activities day, because after the science centre they went to have pizza, then visited the aquarium, had ice cream, and took a walk along the pier before dropping the exhausted girls off at Ruby’s house.

-Soo…we're child-free tonight. -pointed out the Alpha when the two of them were finally alone, his large hand sneaking onto the cop’s muscular tight, giving it a suggestive squeeze before they both burst in laughter. -It doesn't change anything, does it? -he observed, wiping out happy tears while starting the car.

-It does not, she's so low-maintenance. -Jim shook his head. Danielle was not necessarily a social kid, after school she wanted to be left alone, and spent most of her free time working on some art projects in her room. Sometimes it felt like they didn’t have a child at all, which was pretty convenient, but also made them wonder if they were perhaps failing as parents by not interacting with their daughter much.

-So low-maintenance. -Buck sighted in agreement. -We could go somewhere tho. -he then suggested, making the Omega gasp loudly.

-Evan Street, are you asking me out on a date?

-Absolutely I am. -the firefighter grinned. He actually had a place and activity in mind already. They needed to stop by the house first to grab a blanket and beer, then went straight to the familiar beach. And oh, it brought up such pleasantly nostalgic feelings, that short ride filled with chatting about everything and nothing, however this time without horrible singing. Even the weather was similar, although no clouds, just a warm orange orb on an empty sky.

-I thought you were taking me on a date, not on a first date. -the officer chuckled as they walked through the warm sand towards the calm ocean, their hands obviously joined.

-It was such a good date it deserves to be repeated. -the Alpha smiled, stopping near the water line where he threw the blanket on the cold sand. -I can’t believe it was sixteen years ago. Makes me feel old. -he sighed, sitting down in front of his partner, happily letting himself be pulled closer to the cop’s chest, whose one hand quickly sneaked under the shirt, arm wrapped tightly around the waist.

-Sixteen years, huh? -Street hummed, laying his chin on the taller man’s head. -Back then, it didn't even cross my mind that we would get to the point where we are bonded and married with a whole teenage kid and a house mortgage. Crazy concept.

-Not that crazy, actually. Back then, I really thought I'd eventually have all that…but with Eddie. I wonder if I’d ever move on if I haven’t met you. -the firefighter confessed in response, and instantly felt the Omega tense a little. -I'm so glad your carelessness brought us together. -quickly added, reassuringly patting the officer’s leg.

-Hey! That was a freak accident! -Jim laughed, blushing slightly at the cringe memory of him dangling from the ceiling like an absolute idiot. -No need to open old wounds. -whispered, resting his cheek on his Alpha’s soft hair.

Buck only snorted in response before sinking into that strong body holding him firmly. No words followed, there was no need to talk. In comfortable silence the couple enjoyed the refreshing wind and relaxing sound of splashing waves as they watched the sun lazily hide behind the horizon. And when it got dark and cold, meaning the time came to go back home, they made each-other a promise to return here in another sixteen years, in the exact same manner: alive, happy, and still deeply in love.

#9 1 1 fanfiction #SWAT fanfiction #Buck x Jim #omegaverse fanfiction #m/m smut #m/m #omegaverse #ao3fic

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covetyou · 7 months

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the best of the world in the palm of our hands

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con (reader is paying a debt), pussy spanking, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (f receiving), cumplay, anal play (blink and you'll miss it), derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, joel miller is a massive slut word count: 4.9k chapter summary: You find a way to pay your fathers debts

A/N: pussy spanking! lets go! you know the old saying, open mind open legs.

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song: damage gets done by Hozier

Your dad had been rationing his pain meds for months, barely taking one every two days now that the world had gone to shit and they were so much harder to come by - and so much more expensive as a result. Lean times were made leaner still by missed shifts and slow work, which meant for even fewer pills to ration out.

Eventually, you would listen, night after night, as he groaned and writhed in pain, meds long gone. Nights like that meant another missed shift, fewer ration cards, and the ever looming threat of debtors coming to collect on what was theirs.

That was the situation that had brought you here, to his door. Desperation, and a debt needing to be paid.

Your knock on the door sounds sharp in the silence of the hallway. You're in a "nicer" part of the QZ - the apartment block cleaner and less crammed full of bodies than others. Here there are fewer people to care, fewer people to see. Fewer people to hear you scream.

The door in front of you suddenly flies open and you wretch you head around, straightening your back. You'd told yourself you'd play it cool, but already you were failing.

Joel Miller, self appointed pharmacist, medication supplier, drug dealer, stands before you. He's tall and broad, taking up almost the entire doorway as he rests one hand on top of the frame. He ticks one hip to the side and tucks his fingers through his belt loops.

You'd seen him from a distance, people pointing with whispers of "that's him", but never up close. Flecks of gray dance around the scruff on his jaw, his dark brown eyes wrinkling as he assesses you. The firm expanse of him so much more intimidating from this distance, you square yourself before you speak.

"I -" you begin, but he immediately cuts you off.

"I don't do business in the hallway," he drawls. "This is business, right?" he quirks a dark eyebrow at you.

You nod, all words snatched from your brain. You'd never heard him before - his southern drawl sounding cocky as he sizes you up, standing meek and mild in the corridor.

"S'always business. Come in then, sweetheart," he says, barely moving his body from blocking the doorway for you to squeeze past him. You push yourself against the door frame as much as possible so you don't drag your body along his.

The living room of his apartment is bigger than the entire place you share with your father. As far as you can tell, Joel lives here alone.

The door slams shut behind you, and heavy footsteps walk past you. Joel picks up a bottle and a single glass, pouring himself two fingers of whisky before setting the bottle back down and taking a sip. You knew you would be vulnerable, coming here alone, but you hadn't taken into account feeling trapped.

"So, what y'here for?"

"M-my dad, he's -"

"I know who your dad is, sweetheart. Seen you together. He owes me. Ain't heard from him in a few weeks. I asked what you're here for, not about your dad."

"Yeah," you nod, trying to feign confidence, "Yeah well, that's why I'm here. He needs more medicine."

"What I gave him weren't medicine, it ain't fixin' shit. I gave him pain relief. That's it."

"Well, he needs more. He's out, and he's hurting, and he can't work - " you ramble, but he cuts you off again.

"Now, sweetheart," he raises a finger to stop you. "I don't see why I should be giving you, or him, anythin'. I owe you nothin', and from where I'm standing, you're the one who owes me. Two weeks worth, right?"

Your eyes go wide. You were hoping he'd make it easier than this - go easy on you because you were a girl and you were here alone. You were hoping to play on his heartstrings, but you were starting to realise that maybe he didn't have one.

His glass thunks down on the table.

He circles you like a predator circles its prey, looking you up and down, assessing for weakness. You stare straight ahead, unwavering as possible.

He stops in front of you, tall and foreboding, before tilting your chin up with a single finger.

"You got the cards for that?"

You shake your head no.

He clicks his tongue, smiles, and says, "That's a damn shame". You have a feeling he doesn't think that at all.

"Dad's been hurting too much, he can't work, we haven't been able to get the cards, I've been trying I - "

"Looks like you'll have to do then," he shrugs, crossing his arms across his broad chest as he leans back against his dining table. "Show me what you can pay me with."

You'd never done this before - well, that was a bit of a lie. You'd done something like this, once, before, with someone else, someone different, someone who probably couldn't hurt you in the ways the massive figure of Joel Miller could hurt you.

You take two small steps toward him, and move to lower to your knees - you'd heard men like him accepted this mode of "payment" all the time - but he grabs your arm in one giant hand before you can make your descent.

You balk at him, "Wha - "

"I don't want a half-hearted blow job, sweetheart," he licks his lips and his thick fingers tug at the hem of your too big t-shirt. "Why don't you take this off. Show me what you can pay me with."

The implication was clear - he didn't want anything you could give him, but you had plenty he could take. Your breath hitches, but you don't let yourself hesitate for long.

Swallowing thickly, you yank your t-shirt over your head and dump it on the floor beside you in one swift action. You're painfully aware that your bra is the least flattering thing you could possibly be wearing - it's soft and old and entirely shapeless, but you weren't expecting to be stripping off for him. You shouldn't even care what he thinks of you but it'd been so long since anyone had seen your bare skin that even this twisted exchange felt like you should've made more of an effort.

You stare directly ahead, not daring to meet his eyes as heat flares in your cheeks. He stalks back to the table and picks up his whisky. You watch him raise it to his lips before he notices you looking. You haven't moved.

He's on you in an instant, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks with force as he directs your eyes to his. The heat still burns through your face, but you feel it start to snake traitorously down your spine.

"I said, show me or do you want me to fuckin' rip the rest off you."

Nodding, you scramble to remove the rest of your clothing. It's not sexy, why fucking would it be, and you fumble with the buttons on your pants longer than you'd like, but eventually you're stood entirely nude for him in his apartment.

A puff of air huffs out if his nose and his face twitches as he appraises you like some kind of show cattle. You don't know if he likes what he sees, but that traitorous drip of warmth down your spine hopes that he does. You can trick yourself into thinking it's because he might go easier on you if he likes you, but the longer you stand there under his gaze the more you don't want him to go easy on you.

"You are a pretty thing," he says, rubbing the scruff of his beard. "I think you got just the thing I need to let your dad off the hook, don't you? Might even throw something else in to sweeten the deal if you're extra good." He strokes your hair, and you try to hold back a shudder of arousal. Maybe he'll think it's fear, and maybe it is. Maybe it's both.

"How's that sound?" he prompts as he laces his fingers through your hair and tugs.

You look at his face, his eyes are dark, darker than before, the way he's looking at you makes that traitorous drip into a flood. "Okay."

He wordlessly grunts as he tugs your hair some more and pushes you toward a door on the otherside of the room, making you walk ahead of him.

Even with his hand in your hair, guiding you, your feet move of their own accord. You want to object, refuse, but you can't. You want this. You want a man like Joel - big, protective, in control - to pay you any attention. Whatever the cost.

One final nudge of your head and you stumble into the room as he releases you.

His bedroom is sparse, as expected. Interior decor went to shit with the end of the world, and Joel didn't seem like the kind of man who would've cared about that before anyway.

You stand at the foot of his bed looking down at your toes as they bunch and un-bunch in the carpet. You hear him come in and close the door. If you weren't trapped before you definitely are now. You don't look up at him, you can't, so your eyes remain fixed at your feet when his step into view.

"You ready to get on the bed for me, sweetheart?" His hand strokes gently across the swell of your breast as he talks to you. It's the first time he's really touched you and the flood down your spine has now gathered into a slick pool between your legs.

You do as you're asked sitting on the edge of his bed, feeling even smaller now as he towers over you. You could have been 8 feet tall and still felt small and vulnerable in this moment, Joel Miller cascading above you fully clothed.

A large hand rests on your shoulder, a gentle pressure pushing you to fall back to the mattress below.

"You lay back now. Relax."

You try not to scoff but you can't help it.

"Ain't goin' to hurt you. What good would that do me. I like my customers alive."

You take a deep breath and try to steady yourself with your back flush to the mattress, looking at him as he still hulks above you. You can do this. He'll just... take what he wants. And you'll let him. Then you'll be on your way.

He's still standing above you as he directs you. "Good girl. Now open your legs for me. Lemme see."

You take another deep breathe, hold, and exhale, opening your legs for him just a fraction.

"I'm a patient man, sweetheart, but when I tell you to do something, you fuckin' do it," he growls as he kicks your legs open further. You spread them even wider, wanting to keep on his good side. You're completely exposed and bare for him now. Everything is on display and he still towers over you, looking down at your naked form on his bed.

"Fuckin' beautiful," you think you hear him mutter as he moves to a crouch between your spread thighs. You hold your breath, tensing and try not to clamp your legs shut at his inspection.

"I'm just lookin', sweetheart," Fingers rub calming circles over the softness of your thighs and your legs twitch.

"Keep your fuckin' legs spread," he says with a sharp slap to your thigh. Gasping at the shock, you push your legs to spread as wide as they can. You feel obscene, so open for him and his hand strokes the spot he'd just struck, soothing it.

You were beginning to see how this would go - do exactly as he said and he'd be gentle. Disobey, or be slow on the uptake (patient man my ass) and you'd soon feel the sting of punishment. The thought of that makes you clench around nothing, and you curse under your breath as it's surely now drawn attention to just how wet you are.

You stare up at his yellowed ceiling and hear a chuckle from between your legs - he definitely fucking knows. You don't dare to look down, you just want him to get on with it, until suddenly fingers come dangerously close to your sex and pull you apart, spreading your bare cunt even more for him.

"Well, you're a pretty little thing," he says to your pussy.

The fingers, his thumbs you realise, massage up and down the sides of you, avoiding any direct touch to your folds, but massaging the flesh in such a delicious way that you can't help but feel it right where you need it most.

Joel hums as he moves to his knees, getting closer to your spread cunt, still rubbing his thumbs up and down the sides of you, gradually moving closer and closer to the center of your sex until he's dragging the tips of both thumbs through your wetness and up to the sides of your clit.

You take another deep breath and try to muffle your whimpers with pursed lips, trying to hold back a moan.

"She's likin' that," you hear the amusement in his voice, "I wonder if she'll like this." He moves one of his slicked thumbs directly above your clit and begins to gently stroke. Your hips jerk, unsure if it's toward or away from the pressure of his thumb.

"Oh, she does," and he applies more pressure, circling torturously around your nub as his other hand continues to explore your folds in gentle strokes, parting your opening with two fingers occasionally to see the wetness gathering there, to see how ready for him you are.

"You ever touch yourself like this?" he's talking to you again now, not your cunt.

"N-no," you stutter, as his thumb keeps its languid pace on your clit.

"You don't touch yourself? Y'look well old enough to have done this before."

"No, I-I do, just... not. Not like this."

Joel hesitates for just a moment, fingers stilling, before continuing on. "You like it though." It's not a question. "Tell me how you touch yourself." That wasn't either.

"I don't - I. Fuck," you hiss. You try to relax your grip on the sheets, but his rough thumb on your clit is distractingly good. "I - rub," you pant out.

"With fingers?"

"No," you squeeze your eyes shut. You can't say you expected much from this visit, but telling a stranger how you get yourself off in the dark of the night definitely was not on your list.

"Againstapillow," you mumble, a soft moan being pulled from shortly after as he increases the frequency of his circles on your clit.

"So you're a sweet girl whose sweet pussy only knows soft things?" he hums in thought. "Anything ever been in here?" his index finger circles around your opening, slick now dribbling out of you and being spread around by his thick finger. You must glisten.

You gulp down a sigh. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're getting at."

"That's good," he chuckles. "Can't imagine you'd want your first to be like this. Of course a pretty little slut like you has had somethin' in here before." His finger circles more around your hole, barley dipping inside as his well practiced thumb swipes firmly over your swollen clit.

Two thick fingers suddenly plunge into your dripping cunt with ease, stretching you. You pull back with the shock, trying to shuffle up the bed and away at the sudden intrusion, pulling his fingers from you. His hands grip your thighs, anchoring you down and pulling you back toward him.

"Did I say you could fuckin' move?" You shake your head. You didn't even mean to move. It felt good, it shouldn't feel fucking good, you were just surprised.

slap

You hear it before you feel it - a wide hand colliding bluntly with your exposed cunt, sending a sharp stinging, buzzing sensation straight back up your spine. You think your brain shuts off entirely for a second before you gasp for air.

"I know you wanna be good for me. You wanna do right by your sick old dad, right? Help him out of a tough spot?"

His entire palm engulfs your mound with ease, covering you completely as he massages his fingers side to side, easing the sting and jerking your clit in a way that has you rolling your hips and biting back a moan.

"Try getting away again and I'll give your worse than that," you push your pelvis toward him at his words. You really try not to be obvious in your disappointment, you want to be good, but you want it. You want worse. And you know he knows. "But be a good girl and I'll give you exactly what you want. That's why you're here, ain't it?"

Before you can answer he delivers several quick light smacks to your bare pussy. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough send the vibrations through you and straight to your struck clit. He removes his hand to look at your quickly reddening pussy before returning to smack you some more. You gasp, trying desperately to keep still and not moan at the building sensation he's pulling from you - you shouldn't be enjoying any of it at all, let alone this, but fuck you are. There's nothing violent about the way his hand is striking your naked cunt, the light slaps against you turning you on, zinging through you like a tuning fork being tapped on a hard edge.

You hear another laugh from between your legs.

"You've only been givin' it to her soft, sweetheart, when she's just crying out to have it rough."

He spanks your pussy again, this time you can't help the moan that escapes you, your back arching into his quick slap slap slap against your cunt. The speed of his palm slows, but the force increases, drawing obscene noises from you with each blow.

"Uh," the breath huffs out of you with each firm smack to your swollen cunt.

His hand pulls off of you and he spreads you wide again before a warm wet sensation draws up from your fluttering hole to your tender clit in a broad stroke. He's soothing your pussy with soft licks when he latches onto your clit and suckles gently before pulling back to look up at you.

"I like 'em pink like this," he mumbles around your clit, "You're bein' so good takin' it for me."

He's holding your thighs obscenely wide as his tongue lathes your clit, wrenching you open as you wiggle beneath him. You are so close, on the absolute precipice and moments from tipping over the edge, when he pulls from you completely, spreading your cunt open with an his thumbs for inspection once more. The man fucking loves looking at you.

"Look at her twitchin'. I think she likes being spread wide for me, look how wet she is." He dives in for another broad lick, slurping as he goes.

"It's just dripping outa you," he breathes. You feel the warm trickle of wetness drip its well worn path from your pussy and down between the cleft of your cheeks. His finger trails it, and you take in a sharp pull of air when the pad of his finger strokes your tight asshole, spreading your slick across it and causing your legs to twitch closed a fraction once again.

slap. You feel the sting and its aftershocks buzz through you before you hear it. "Keep 'em," slap, "fuckin'," slap, "open!" He soothes your pussy with his full hand again and you moan into him, fisting the sheets at your sides.

"Won't go there today. But don't think I'll be feelin' so generous next time." Next time. He rubs and squeezes your pussy, and you rock your hips into his palm, desperate for more anything.

"You likin' this?" he murmurs, his words almost sounds tender -

- Until another slap rings against your bare sodden skin.

"Answer me."

"Y-Yes!" you gasp out with the next spank to your oversensitive cunt. "Yes, please - I - fuck - please I need to -" slap slap slap slap

Your mind goes blank as a series of slaps are delivered straight to your pussy. A groan is pulled deep from your chest and you spread your legs more for him, pushing into his palm as it rains its gentle smacks down onto you.

"You're goin' to come, ain't you?" he growls out, his smacks getting quicker.

You nod frantically, so fucking close, you shouldn't be so close from this but you are. You're just about to beg for something more, anything more, when the smacks against your pussy get even quicker, and quicker, until he's rubbing frantically at your clit, so swollen from his attention that you practically scream at the sensitivity.

Your orgasm tears through you, drawing a deep guttural sound right from your belly. Your back arches, your dripping hole so neglected as it grips around nothing.

"Fuck," he grinds out from below you, stuffing two fingers quickly into your pussy to feel you grip around them as you rock through your orgasm. You can't see him do it, white blaring across your vision, but you hear the hiss of his breath as he pulls his cock out from his pants.

You whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, stroking himself with the slickness of you. He stands and presses himself between your legs, hot and heavy.

"You want it here?" he says, grinding the heft of his cock against your spent cunt. "'Cause you're making a mess, drippin' all over my sheets without me to plug you up." You're in a daze as you nod, still floating from the intensity of your orgasm as you stare dumbstruck at his rock hard length for the first time. It's so big.

It's too big.

"W-wait, it's too bi- "

"Fuckin' look. Watch as I fuck this into you sweetheart," he growls as he feeds the tip of his cock into you anyway, the solid width of him stretching more than you have ever been before, but your wetness letting him slide right in. He fucks the tip in and out, and you watch him do it.

In previous years you'd had nothing more than clumsy fumbles with men, some drunken, but most just uncaring one night stands with promises of more. There was never more. One way or another you were being used, but this time, and for the first time, you could call it what it was. There was no illusion of care here as Joel took what he wanted and made you watch.

And you liked that. You liked being used by him. You liked letting him do anything he wanted to you.

"I want you to watch her swallow me darlin'. Keep your eyes right there," he pushes his hips forward, the pressure of him filling you immense, and he groans as your cunt gives way to him and swallows him whole. "There she goes. Such a good little pussy for me."

"Keep lookin'," he groans again as he retreats from you only to fuck his full length back inside of you in one swift movement, "You look or I send you out of here jus' like this. See how the locals treat a naked slut in broad daylight."

Your cunt pulses with the threat, and Joel notices. He cocks his brows at you, still relentlessly fucking into you. "Oh, she likes that. You like bein' a slut, huh?"

Fuck yes, you want to scream, but instead you nod meekly, still watching him fuck you, obsessed with the sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again.

"Good fuckin' girl."

Never once does he lean down to steal a kiss, or swipe his tongue across your bare nipple. You're naked for him but he does nothing with it except pound into your flesh, using your cunt to get himself off. His eyes flit between where he's disappearing into you and your eyes, watching with a sneer as they roll back into your head with each knock to your cervix.

"Fuu-uuck." He's hammering into you now, hips smoothly pounding your pelvis, when he grabs one of your arms and flips you onto your side, pushing your knee up so high it's practically by your ear. He slams back into the hilt again, rocking you back as you moan out wantonly around his cock.

From this angle his cock drags across you in ways you've never felt. You'd seen trees being felled as a kid, a wedge being hammered into a cut far too small to fit. You felt like you were being split, just like those trees.

"Ah - uh, I, Joel, please, I -" tears are in your eyes from how good it feels, the dull throb of the impact into your cervix melting your insides.

Joel brings one of his legs up beside you on the bed, the other planted firmly on the floor, giving himself leverage to fuck so deep and hard into you that the air is knocked out of you for a moment. When you can finally take another breath, you're screaming for him, your pussy creaming around him from the endless pounding.

The sloppy wet sounds of your cunt accepting his battering over and over are eventually taken overby moans being ripped from your throat. His belt rattles about his waist with each smack of his hips into yours, you can feel the metal of his buckle, bitingly cold against your skin.

"That's it - fuck - you just fuckin' take - it. You take this cock." You can feel his balls draw up and his cock twitch inside you as he gets close to bursting. He fucks you relentlessly anyway, desperately holding back as long as he can, until he can hold no more.

He drags his cock sharply from your used cunt, throwing you back onto your back on his mattress. His large hand grips his cock and he jerks it over you.

"Oh fuck yeah, fuck yeah," he's practically chanting as he jerks himself, letting out a deep stuttery groan when he finally comes, spurting hot cum all over your soft thighs, belly, chest.

He doesn't aim, he doesn't care where he gets it, the action more akin to a dog pissing on a tree to mark its territory than anything else.

The only noise in the room when Joel's shoulders finally relax are your twin heavy breaths, punctuated by light whines that you just can't help. You're so overstimulated that when his hand comes down to your thigh, you don't realize that he's smearing his cum into you until he's rubbing it into your belly, spreading it across the peaks of your tits, up your neck and across your cheek.

He gives you a light tap on the face. "Look at me," he says, swiping a come coated finger across your lips. You're entirely fucked out, all you can do is look dumbly at him, totally cockdrunk.

"What do you say?"

"I... wha-..." you know what he means when he raises his eyebrows threateningly once again. "Th-thank you."

"That's right."

Suddenly he's yanking you up into a seated position and the blood rushes to your head. Another tug, the world spins, and you're on your feet, but you can barely trust your legs. He drags you from the room and before you know it your own clothes are in your arms, the remains of his come dribbling down your body.

"Get dressed," he stands with his arms crossed, looking at you, expectant.

You stare for a moment, totally lost in his dark eyes, before moving to get your clothes back on. You are still covered in his come, your pussy still buzzing from his spanking. At some point, he tucked his cock back into his pants. You didn't even notice, and you try to push down the disappointment of not getting to see it one last time.

Pulling your clothes back on with skin sticky from sweat and come isn't easy, but you eventually manage. When you stuff your feet into your shoes, he grabs you by the arm and drags you toward the door, unlatching it and pushing you toward the exit.

"I'll consider your debt paid," he murmurs into your hair from behind, pushing you out of his apartment a second later.

"Oh and, catch," he throws something to you but you miss, barely even turning in time at his words. It rattles as it hits the ground. Pills.

"Told you I'd give you something if you were good." Confirmation that you were good for him is all you need to feel another gush of wetness between your thighs. You feel like you could come again from his words and the rough feeling of your panties against your abused cunt.

"What do you say?" he asks again.

"Thank you."

He smirks before closing the door in your face.

You lick your lips as you walk away down the empty corridor tasting Joel Miller for the first time, pills in hand and debt paid.

He never even kissed you.

next part

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller/reader #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

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autistic-brushstrokes · 3 months

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*In the chip aisle at Walmart, doing a late-night grocery run.*

Tan: *Minding their own business, looking for tortilla chips.*

Tan: *Finds tortilla chips.*

Chris , to Jessica: See, they know what they're here for. They know what they're doing. Be more like them. Make a decision, Jessica!

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rosetterer · 3 days

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i had no right to go this hard especially taking into consideration that this is right after they met for the first time and right before this moment, Tommy was listening to Buck yap about pistachios (he's showing off his random facts, okay??) and I just.......

So anyway, the swat!tommy and firefighter!buck au has gotten off of to a great start...

#bucktommy #911 on abc #911 abc #bucktommy fanfiction #the swat au #if i actually finish this and can put it on ao3 I'll be surprised #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinkley

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 7 months

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Masterlist

Right now, I write mostly for Deacon from SWAT with an occasional Hiddleston imagine.

I also have some SOA Filip "Chibs" Telford things in the works as well. Open to write for Tig & Jax too. :) they have a spot in my heart! <3

Requests are open!

Request here

Deacon Kay Fanfiction:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Deacon Kay Imagines:

Hero

Nobody's Fault But Mine

My Wife

My Girl

In Sickness and in Health

Day Off with Deac

Day on Shift with Deac (a "sequel" if you will to Day off with Deac)

Tom Hiddleston Imagines:

My Eyes are for You Only

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brinleyparke · 9 months

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S.W.A.T. (2017) fanfic ideas/prompts

I add new ones pretty often, so keep checking the lists for new prompts.

Some of these ideas can be combined.

Who did go see Street while he was in the hospital after the surgery if Hondo was in Mexico, and Luca and Chris were in Germany?

Street is tired and sore after a long day at work. Molly gives him a massage. (SFW).

Sick Street

After Street gets kicked out of S.W.A.T. and sent back down to patrol, Street starts doing more undercover work.

When Luca is staying at Street's place in season 1, Luca finds out that Street has nightmares, but not about cases. They're about his old man and the bad foster homes.

(Season 1 or early season 2) "Look, Hondo," says Buck, "deep down, Street is still just a scared kid who's been used, abused, neglected, manipulated, and abandoned by the people who are supposed to take care of him too many times."

What if Deac and Annie or just Annie visited Street in the hospital after the transplant surgery?

H/C – Molly comforting Street

What if Street's uncle somehow found out about the transplant and decided to visit his nephew? Luckily, Deacon (who I like to think of as one of Street's work/surrogate dads; Hondo is the other) is there, too, to check in on the kid. Even better if Annie is there, too, and goes Mama Bear Mode.

Street offers to babysit Vivien for Hondo and Nichelle. After seeing how good he is with her, they say yes. Based on the scene at the beginning of 6x18, where Hondo says, "I thought we were gonna have to kick Street and Chris out last night." Nichelle replies, "I had no idea Street was such a baby person."

Street tells Buck he's going to give half of his liver to his mom. Buck is supportive.

Buck finds out about the team's tendency to treat Street like 💩 (maybe Buck is at HQ and sees it happen or maybe Street tells him inadvertently). He is none too pleased with his former team.

Street has never been to the aquarium before, so Molly takes him there on a date.

The team throws Street a surprise birthday party, not realizing he's never had any kind of birthday party before.

Street goes undercover as a male stripper

Suggested by @erinsworld – After Street gets kicked off SWAT and put back on patrol, he ends up without a partner. Patrol commander thinks he's a hot-shot trouble maker who needs to be taught a lesson. Street tells his Capt that it's policy to have a partner. Street doesn't question it when the captain falsely tells him that the order for him to ride solo came from Hondo because "Since he likes being a lone wolf so much, he doesn't need a partner." Street has been neglected, used, abused, and abandoned by all the people who are supposed to take care of him and protect him. He sees Hondo as just another person who has abandoned him. So why would he question Hondo's "orders"?

Slight AU – What if after Hondo kicks Street off the team, Street gets really hurt when he responds to a call where things went sideways? By really hurt, I mean really, really hurt. They search Street's locker for the letter, but they don't find it because he burned it after Hondo fired him.

Slight AU – What if Street wrote his letter to Buck or to Nate instead of to Chris?

Slight AU – What if Street reunites with Nate after being kicked out of S.W.A.T. instead of on a case in season 3?

Slight AU – What if after Street's bike is stripped for parts, he calls Buck instead of Chris?

Slight AU – After getting kicked out of S.W.A.T., Street decides to put in a transfer back to Long Beach. He starts taking more risks in the field. (Maybe he starts doing more undercover work because he has nothing to lose.) When he is injured pretty badly, the hospital calls Buck bc he's Street's emergency contact.

Slight AU – What if Street stayed with Buck after the fight with his mom instead of couch surfing?

Slight AU (6x10) – What if after Street was benched from the case, he went with Rocker's team on a raid or something because they were down a man for some reason, and Hicks approved it? And what if on that raid Street gets hurt (maybe he takes a bullet for one of the team or a witness or victim, or he takes a necessary (to him) risk)? Maybe, for some humor, Rocker can be like, "Oh shit. Chris is gonna kill me." (Or Molly if you are a Strolly fan like me) Street can reply, "Nah, she'll kill me." Then, Rocker will say, "You know what? She'll probably kill both of us." Street will be like, "If Hondo doesn't kill us first."

AU – What if Hondo didn't just kick Street off of SWAT? What if he took his badge and gun, too? Possibilities: (1) Maybe Street starts racing to get money instead of just doing it for fun. (2) Maybe Street starts up his own garage where he fixes bikes. Perhaps he hears some of his customers talking about something illegal. He tells Hicks. They send him undercover. (3) Maybe Street goes back to Club G (from 1x04, where the bouncer said Street has "potential") and works there to make ends meet.

AU – Victor and Bonnie got to have a real wedding. Bonnie doesn't turn out to be a cheating, lying tramp, and Molly catches the bouquet.

AU/Slight AU – Street never breaks up with Molly. Street asks Hicks' permission to marry Molly.

AU – What if Strolly (Street/Molly) stayed together?

AU – Nate doesn't die. (Maybe Nolan couldn't find him. Maybe Street got there on time, or maybe Nate was somehow able to get away.)

Arrow x-over: Werner Zytle has managed to distribute his new version of Vertigo (it makes you hallucinate your biggest fear) to L.A.. Oliver finds out and goes to L.A.. On a S.W.A.T. raid, Street gets dosed with the vertigo. His team tries to comfort him, but to little or no avail, and they don't have an antidote. The Green Arrow comes in and saves the day.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine x-over: Terry/Street

Brooklyn Nine-Nine x-over: Street and Peralta as chaotic besties.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine x-over: Luca and Peralta as chaotic besties.

Moonlight x-over: What if the foster parents at one of the homes Street lived in were vampires who like to feed on children? One night, Buck tries to call Street. Maybe just to check in. At first, Buck doesn't think much of it. Then, it happens again the next night. The next day at work, Buck finds out several kids have just disappeared from that neighborhood. A private investigator offers his help to find the missing kids.

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streakyglasses · 1 month

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darling, you're the one i want

He’s on one knee, hands stretched out to her with a box, and he’s looking at her like hers is the only face he ever wants to see.

A mini-series of different proposal possibilities, inspired by 7x05.

Read on ao3 or ffn, or under the cut

The California sun beats down on Street and Chris as they reach the peak of Solstice Canyon, not yet as hot as it will be, but hot enough. Water from the different falls that once provided a cool reprieve on their neck and wrists has long dried and been replaced with sweat and the grit of dirt.

Chris looks as beautiful as ever to Street. Despite her being in front, her hand reached back for his at the start of the trail and she hasn’t let go except when she’s had to, to get over the rocky terrain. Her tan skin glows, and the tattoos over her arms and back, the newest addition of a small ‘26’ just above her wrist bone, are like a map to the future. Every time she glances back to make sure he’s still with her, the gold flecks in her eyes grow. He wants to live in them.

“You good?” She asks with a laugh as they finally reach the overlook. Wiping his brow with his freehand and chugging down water, he nods.

“Perfect.” Street confirms, hands on his knees. “You do this every Saturday morning?”

“Pretty much. First with Champ, then it was a nice change from the intensity of SWAT. I’m glad you finally got out here with me.”

“Me too,” he smiles, his heart rate coming down from the hike so he can appreciate the never-ending view of lush greens and blue sky. There’s a boulder to the side that Chris props herself on to take it all in. He slides off his backpack, eyeing the front pocket as his pulse picks up again, then takes a deep breath and joins her. She leans into him when he wraps his arm around her shoulder.

“This is beautiful,” Street murmurs, eyes locked on Chris. She rolls hers but is betrayed by the soft pink blush that paints over her cheeks. Sitting in the silence with nothing but the gentle breeze and sound of the other’s breathing, she finds his free hand and squeezes it.

They sit in the moment until a speck of sand gets caught in her throat and she takes her hand back to cover her cough. Rubbing easy circles on her back, Street leans over and grabs his water bottle to hand to her, his backpack coming with it.

“Ugh, thank you,” Chris says, turning to the side to finish clearing her throat.

Certain this might be his only opportunity, Street feels the world stop around him. The air stills, the rustling of the leaves stops, and the only thing he’s aware of is his own heartbeat, Chris next to him, and the box in his backpack. Fingers moving of their own volition, he gets the front pocket unzipped and closes his hand around the small blue box.

His blood rushes in his ears as his knee hits the hard, dusty ground, and he dries his palms on his shorts before getting a good hold on the box and opening it. The semicircle of diamonds sparkles in the high sunlight and the gold half shines with a bright reflection of whatever catches it. He sees his hands shaking ever so slightly but makes no effort to still them. His pupils dilate the longer he waits for her to turn around.

After coughing for what feels like an eternity, Chris opens the water bottle and finishes it. Her eyes close as she relishes how it slows her back down and cuts through the heat. Shaking off the last of the attack, she wipes her eyes and the water on her chin, and turns to give Street the bottle back.

“Than—”

“Will you marry me?”

Chris freezes. Street’s voice hits her, but the words don’t process as she takes in the scene in front of her. He’s on one knee, hands stretched out to her with a box, and he’s looking at her like hers is the only face he ever wants to see. She knows her mouth is hanging open and her eyes are wide, stunned to silence in a way she’s never been before. Slowly, the steadiness of her heart beat resonates through the rest of her as it all clicks into place how right this feels.

Her eyes trace back up his face, his bottom lip now between his teeth as the nerves that were a spark before grow into a wild blaze. He wants to tell her to say something, or to repeat himself in case she didn’t hear him, but he doesn’t have to as she stands and takes a step towards him, pushed on by some innate knowing, reaching out until their hands brush. It sends the same kind of want through him that it did on the first day they met.

“Yes,” Chris says, bringing the world back to its axis for both of them. A bird squawks, and she brings a hand up to block her eyes from the sun as he takes the ring from the box and slides it onto her left ring finger. Her hand takes his before he can drop it as he tucks the box back into his shorts pocket. Standing, Street lets every sensation from the smell of the breeze to the itchiness of tiny gravel stuck in his knee sink in, not wanting to forget a thing.

With her hand, he pulls her in easily and wraps his arms around her back, meeting their lips as her feet leave the ground. She laughs against his lips until he sets her down. Pulling back, arms loose around his neck, she matches his wide smile and gazes at the ring over his shoulder.

“I love you,” she repeats as their eyes meet again. Street manages to smile even bigger as his heart slows back down and all the tension drains from his body.

“I love you so much.”

He kisses her again and then a third time, Chris just as eager. She brings her newly-adorned hand to cradle his face as he deepens the kiss and moans.

They’re breathless when they part, and tears rush to Street’s eyes when he sees the ones lining her lash line. She hugs him as close as she physically can and nuzzles into his neck. His heart is beating like a drum in his chest, strong and steady.

“That’s why you agreed to hike with me?” Chris teases, needing a lightness to cut through the moment and recenter them. His dimples get deeper and he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, any air of his usual cockiness traded for pure emotion.

“It is.” He chuckles softly. “It’s special to you, now it’s special to us.”

Street looking out over the horizon once more, she keeps her gaze locked on his profile.

“Got a hell of a view.” She murmurs, her breath hot on his skin. A shiver runs through him, and he turns back to her, stepping behind her so he can wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her cheek. His chin finds her shoulder, and he grins.

“Got a hell of a girl, too.”

#jim street #chris alonso #stris #swat cbs #swat #cbs swat #s.w.a.t cbs #my writing #s.w.a.t #chris x street #street x chris #stris fanfic #stris fanfiction #swat fanfic #swat s7 spoilers #swat s7

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multiwriterrx · 2 months

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Lost my old account officially so I decided to start again ❤️

@writingwithcrystals was a blast 💥

But @multiwriterrx is here to stay ❤️

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lesbianvampiresposts · 1 year

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i never actually posted that other emily prentiss thing i was writing oops..ANYWAY!

I think i’m like flat out of ideas and motivation so any ideas or like requests i’ll take!!!

What i’ll write:

i’ll write mostly female x female or female x gender neutral seeing as i’m not overly the best at male x male or female x male (as the name of my blog states, kind of only have experience dating women BUT i’ll try if its something people really want)

i probably wont write smut (for now) or anything involving pregnancies and i will definitely not write anything involving triggering topics.

i’ll write fics, oneshots, headcannons, anything!! i’ll even give my opinions on ships if thats what people really want 😭

i’ll write for fandoms such as:

Criminal Minds

Greys Anatomy

Station 19

SWAT

9-1-1/9–1-1 Lonestar

Orange is the new black

NBC Hannibal

Supernatural

Brooklyn 99

Will Trent

X-Files

Suicide Squad

#criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #nbc hannibal #greys antony #station 19 #i’m begging here someone give me ideas #brooklyn nine nine x reader #bedelia du maurier x reader #beverly katz #swat x reader #chris alonso x reader #orange is the new black

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roadtogracelandx45 · 1 month

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I hate that I have all these ideas but can’t write them yet.

#ash writes #ash rambles #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagines #band of brothers #austin butler! elvis presley imagines #austin butler! elvis presley fan fiction #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders fanfiction #swat imagines #swat fan fiction #hawaii five o fan fiction #hawaii five o imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfic #sons of anarchy imgaines #sons of anarchy fan fiction

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alheria · 11 months

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Fresh wind on a hot day (8/9)

It was finally happening.

Today, they are bonding. Forming an unbreakable emotional connection. Making a clear statement about their relationship. Becoming a family.

The couple barely slept the night before, Buck overly excited, Jim uncomfortably warm from the upcoming heat. Which led them to binge-watching some oddly entertaining baking show before passing out around the sunrise. They stayed asleep until early afternoon when the firefighter woke up feeling himself burn. Just like the last time, despite his temperature running high, the Omega gravitated towards his partner, unconsciously seeking skin-to-skin contact. He was half-lying on the Alpha’s chest, using his shoulder for a pillow, one arm and leg thrown across his body in a very close, firm embrace.

-A little needy, aren't we? -Buck hummed, fondly brushing through the short strands, enjoying the rare soft side of his usually dominant, reserved boyfriend.

-Only a little. -Street mumbled, adjusting himself slightly. As he shifted, the younger man noticed something fairly interesting that made his heart beat a bit faster.

-You're hard. -he whispered, his unoccupied hand moving towards that perky ass he greedily grabbed and pulled higher onto his hip, causing the cop to moan quietly when his erect penis grazed the hard surface. -May I help? -suggested, already sliding their underwear down. Jim only nodded in response, still not fully awake but responsive enough to help Buck free his own, already aroused cock. A loud whimper escaped him once the Alpha joined their shafts, and began to slowly jerk them off while basking in the more prominent, sweeter scent as the Omega showered his abnormally sensitive neck with lazy kisses. -Does it feel good? -he murmured, feeling pleasure flood his body way stronger than normally. It was a classic early heat sign, increased libido, which meant they were about to have a lot more of this quick, messy sex in the next few hours.

-Very. -whined the officer, too overwhelmed to think straight. The insanely erotic noises he was making were driving the firefighter absolutely crazy. So he sped up the hand movement, suspecting neither would've lasted long anyway.

-Come with me. -Buck growled, his lowered tone unusually demanding. Balancing on the edge of blissful release, Street spilled instantly, unable to ignore the order, promptly followed by his boyfriend. -Well, that's a great way to start a day. -the younger man murmured once he could breathe again, capturing Jim's lips in a tender kiss.

-Sooo great. -the Omega smiled in satisfaction. -Will be even better if you make me breakfast. -he purred, reaching for another kiss. It wasn't possible for an Alpha to ignore such a request, which the cop was obviously aware of, unashamedly abusing his power. The firefighter could only get up and comply, nevertheless, tremendously happy his partner feels comfortable enough around him to embrace his nature a little.

-On it, princess.

---

Buck loved cooking for people he cherished, especially ones who wouldn’t eat properly if he didn’t feed them. It was astonishing how Street and Luca managed to live together for so long with zero cooking skills between them. But that meant the Alpha could fulfil his "duty to provide" at least in this small aspect, by making decent, homemade food for his otherwise very independent Omega.

-No pants type of day, huh? -he remarked, watching his freshly showered, crazy handsome boyfriend walk down the stairs wearing only underwear. Normally, this sight wouldn't faze him at all, the officer being a very shirtless person on the hotter days, although affected by the heat, his hands itched to get themselves on that muscular body, trace the chiseled abs as he fucked into that nicely round ass. Ugh, so horny.

-I'll melt if I put on any more clothing. -Jim rolled his eyes, sitting on the tall stool. He was so glad this was the last time he had to deal with this utter bullshit. Heat serves essentially only one, idiotic purpose: to coerce an Alpha into bonding because there is no better way to find a lifelong partner than by making them sexually obsessed with you, right? Maybe it was useful in the past or something but now was surely causing mostly trouble, at least for Street who hated having to take time off work to go through being horribly warm and wildly horny every four months for a few days. So after today, he won’t need to even think about it ever again. Thank God.

-I'm not complaining! -the younger man assured, handing his partner a full plate. -I surely enjoy the view. -he then hummed, immediately earning himself a rather displeased, a tad worried look. Fuck. -Aaaand I'm off to the shower, so you can eat peacefully. -sighed heavily, laying a rushed kiss on the dark hair as he left the kitchen. Couldn’t stop himself from doing at least that.

The cop was grateful his partner quickly realised he’s getting a little too eager to stay in his presence and decided to give him some safe space. Not every Alpha was this considerate when facing an Omega in heat, so it felt really nice knowing this is an especially healthy relationship built on mutual, deep respect of personal boundaries.

Once he finished his food, which was as always absolutely fucking amazing, Street went back upstairs to chill in bed, where they planned to spend the whole day anyway. It was a matter of minutes really before he'd be ready to go again. Correction, seconds.

-What are you laughing at? -the firefighter asked upon exiting the bathroom, not entirely dry and shamelessly naked except for a small towel casually hung around the narrow hips. He looked so breathtakingly hot, it should be considered a crime.

-Chris. -Jim explained vaguely, showing Buck a picture of his fully-clothed best friend dead asleep across the bed, a fluffy grey cat curled up on her back. -She would've killed us if she knew this was a thing. -added. Amelia and him were seriously risking it all by sending each-other funny photos of her scary girlfriend on a regular basis.

-Undeniably. -the Alpha chuckled, climbing onto the bed and wrapping himself around his boyfriend’s waist. -You're so warm. -he observed, pressing his cheek to the muscular abdomen.

-I know, it's annoying. -Street groaned, his fingers instinctively entangling themselves into the bright, slightly moist strands.

-I love it though. -the younger man murmured, inhaling the strong, pleasant fragrance that made him harden a little while leaning into the delicate touch. -You already smell very different. -he informed, noticing the clear change in the always fresh, outdoor-like scent, which was now thick and sweet.

-Yeah? How? -the Omega wondered, starting to get aroused too, one palm slowly sliding through the nape down the arching spine.

-Addictive. -Buck responded, showering the shivering skin in kisses as he pulled himself up, his warm lips leaving a trace all the way to the neck he greedily sucked onto, leaving behind a dark mark. -Intoxicating. -added, now towering over his partner, hands holding the flushed cheeks, blue eyes glowing with desire. -Delicious. -he whispered, leaning down for a long, passionate kiss, the towel already on the floor. -A snack.

-Snacks are supposed to be eaten. -Jim licked his swollen lips, hunger clear in his gaze when he glanced at that large penis twitching dangerously close to his face. Unable to resist his urges, the cop grabbed the base of the erect shaft while shifting for better access, and to his Alpha’s satisfaction licked a long stripe before sucking onto the darkened head, making the firefighter groan loudly from the intense pleasure.

-Oh Lord, babe… -he growled, watching his cock effortlessly slide into the warm mouth as the wet tongue did its magic. -You’re so fucking good at it. -added, gently caressing the opened jaw. Street only hummed in response, sound waves vibrated through the oversensitive flesh, nearly forcing out a very premature orgasm. One that came shortly after, temporarily blinding his foggy sight while he spilled deep inside the officer’s contracted throat.

-Your turn. -Buck announced once his senses returned, moving himself in between those muscular thighs. With delight he was looking at that beautifully ripped, strong man shivering under his tender touch when his fingers traced the pronounced abs, slid towards the leaking cock but merely grazed its entirety, too focused on their journey to the sleek, needy hole.

-God, Buck! -the cop whined loudly, experiencing the euphoric sensation of two long fingers pressing themselves inside. It had no business being so fucking pleasurable, yet those digits working him open felt absolutely divine. -I need you in me. Like yesterday. -he demanded, hands wrapping around the blonde’s neck, legs around his waist.

The firefighter didn’t need to hear no more, he quickly lined up and effortlessly pushed himself in, causing them both to moan loudly in ecstasy as his penis smoothly spread the warm, wet insides. This was such an overpowering feeling, upon bottoming down he had to pause briefly to regain composure, and give his Omega a moment to remember how to breathe.

-Fuck, you’re so hot. -he growled, gazing into those hazy eyes before joining their lips in a heated kiss as his impatient hips began to slowly move but picking the pace up fast. Neither cared about perhaps taking it slower, making it a more romantic experience, all they wanted was to "scratch the itch".

-Deeper. -Jim whimpered, feeling himself balancing on the orgasm's narrow edge, his nails painfully digging into the firefighter's back. The younger man immediately withdrew almost fully and thrust right back in, a movement he started repeating, hearing the adorable noises of satisfaction escaping his partner's throat. He was close too, his dick desperate to spill inside those tightly squeezed walls. It happened soon, rapidly, their bodies spasmed violently, locking them in a firm hold while they experienced the overpowering, intense pleasure.

-Damn, I’m gonna miss that hot heat sex. -Street sighed once they calmed down, rolling himself to lie on his belly whilst the Alpha finally dropped onto the mattress, his arms burning from bearing his weight the whole time. -But I’m more than happy to sacrifice a mind-blowing orgasm once in a while to get rid of this pathetic weakness. -he clarified, seeing his boyfriend's mildly surprised gaze.

-I’ve read that regular sex gets better after bonding. -Buck wisely informed, reassuringly patting his Omega's naked butt.

-Does it? Fuck yeah, it’s already so good, it’s gonna be fucking incredible. -the smiling officer exhaled with relief, stretching his sore muscles. -Shower? -he suggested while slowly getting up, not keen on staying in this sweaty, sticky state. Sharing the discomfort, the firefighter eagerly grabbed the offered hand and happily followed his boyfriend to the bathroom.

---

The next few hours the couple spent continuing watching the baking competition they failed to finish at night while eating snacks, too lazy to make proper lunch regardless of planning on doing so before bonding, knowing well-enough they will be dead exhausted after.

-Can you bake something for me tomorrow? -the cop wondered, gazing at some deliciously looking cake shown on the screen. Despite not liking sweets too much, from time to time, usually after seeing some goodies on TV, he craved an overwhelmingly sweet dessert to fulfil that rare need.

-I dunno, maybe. -the Alpha yawned, his cheek plastered to the chiselled abdomen serving for a poor pillow replacement. He already decided what he’s going to bake last night, aware all those cooking shows will surely awaken a craving.

-Seriously? Not even bonded yet, and you already stopped trying to keep me? -Jim rolled his eyes, playfully ruffling the messy bright strands.

-Perhaps us finally bonding could serve as a motivation. -the blonde murmured, proceeding to lazily stretch his unbearably stiff limbs, a painful consequence of lying in one position for definitely way too long. -Wanna fuck me? -he then offered rather nonchalantly, suggestively wiggling his perky ass. Street snorted loudly in amusement. Of course he wanted to fuck Buck. Why was this even a question, not a direct order? He always wanted to fuck him. So obviously, he immediately untangled himself from the embrace, and in no time was kneeling over those weirdly long legs, forcefully tugging on the boxers to quickly get them out of the way.

-You could cooperate a little. -he huffed, struggling to remove the obstructing clothing without his partner moving his heavy hips up.

-Nope, letting myself be taken care of. -the younger man mumbled, allowing himself to turn into a mindless puddle because for once he didn’t need to be an “overachiever” who only gives, never takes.

-Spoiled fucker. -the officer snorted, finally throwing the underwear aside as he leaned down to trail kisses and occasional bruises along the relaxed spine, ending the expedition with a juicy bite to the soft cheek, which made the bratty firefighter simultaneously gasp and giggle. The Omega then licked the irritated flesh before pulling away to fetch the lube. -I might be fucking you too often, actually. -he observed, watching his wet finger easily slide all the way in, promptly joined by a second one. -Barely any resistance. -mused, curiously spreading those digits far apart, causing the blonde to whine loudly.

-Babe…please! -the firefighter begged, his mind starting to get foggy. -I can’t wait any longer! I want to belong to you already! -he whimpered, feeling a strange tingle in his nape, a persistent itch that could only get scratched by a very specific set of teeth.

-With pleasure, my love. -Jim whispered right into his boyfriend’s ear, quickly lubricating his own cock, which soon filled the younger man's warm insides. He was overflowing with joy after hearing his partner's desire to be marked first, even though by common standards, the Omega should be completing the bond. His dominant position in their relationship has been officially confirmed. -Thank you for choosing me.

-And thank you for following me into the bathroom like some creepy perv. -Buck laughed, earning himself a not-so-gentle slap to that one wounded butt cheek. Which hurt quite a bit and nearly made him come at the same time.

-Shut up. -Street snorted before pressing a long kiss to the exposed neck he was about to forever decorate with his unique mark, his hips at last starting to move, rhythm slow and steady. -I love you.

-Mhm. -the Alpha hummed, closing his eyes and trying to relax despite the excitement causing his poor, overflowing with affection heart to beat crazy fast. It didn’t help that the arousal promptly joined the fierce emotional flood, pushing his body to its limits. -I love you too.

The moment the officer's sharp teeth punctured the delicate skin, a small explosion occurred in the firefighter's mind, causing all his muscles to spasm while every single nerve experienced indescribable pleasure, a sensation doubled, if not tripled, by intense orgasm rolling through him upon his boyfriend cursing loudly when he came, his release sped up by the strong contractions. Floating on euphoric waves, Buck basked in the familiar scent and fond kisses suddenly showering his shaking shoulders.

-How does it feel? -Jim asked, gently outlining the bleeding wound with delicate pecks as he waited for the other man to come back from wherever he was. -Any different than usual?

-Beautiful. -the blonde exhaled once his senses returned, slowly turning to the side. -But incomplete. -he added, cupping his partner’s nape while they looked each-other in the eyes. -Missing a half.

-Then you should fix the issue right away. -the Omega suggested, tenderly rubbing the firefighter’s flushed jaw.

-Yessir. -Buck smirked, instantaneously joining their lips in a sweet, lazy kiss. They still needed some time to rest and regenerate, but thanks to the heat magic, it didn't take long. Merely a few minutes later, he flipped them around, now Street was lying under him, bruised, although empty neck just begging to be properly marked. His already hard penis easily slipped inside, whilst hands slid under the muscular chest and pulled the cop up to kneeling position. He licked the sensitive flesh as his hips fucked into that perky ass, making the officer cry out loud in euphoric pleasure and shed tears when he bit into the skin, leaving his permanent signature.

The orgasm that hit them upon completing the bond was nothing like anything they’ve ever experienced. Jim felt himself fall onto the mattress, crushed under the Alpha’s weight while their worlds shattered into tiny pieces, revealing the realm of mind-blowing ecstasy where the only sensation in existence was pleasure. Pleasure so powerful, they found themselves lost in this incredible state for nearly half an hour before their brains began to operate in the correct dimension, bringing them back to the version in which they were finally one.

-We're…forever now. -Buck whispered in pure amusement, struggling to comprehend the present reality in which he finally was in a happy, healthy relationship that was sure to last forever. -No take backs! -he exclaimed, making Street laugh. The cop was overwhelmed too, unsure how he got so fucking lucky to find that perfect guy in the most random of circumstances.

-No take backs. -the older man smiled softly. There was no way he would ever give up on what they had. It was too precious to lose. -Can you lie the fuck down please? -he then asked, his cooling down body in desperate need for skin-to-skin contact after such an emotional experience.

-Of course! -the firefighter gasped, realising he’s still hovering over his Omega, absently staring at the fresh bonding mark. He instantly shifted them around and in no time the officer was comfortably tucked in between his arms, exactly where he belonged. -Does that feel better?

-Yes. Thank you. -Jim murmured, pressing his nose to that beautifully smelling neck, slowly inhaling the warm, sunny scent. -Also, thanks for bonding with me.

-Pfft, right back at you. -the blonde chuckled, fondly rubbing the relaxing under his touch spine. -You should get some sleep, babe. -he suggested, hearing his partner yawn quietly.

-That's the plan. -the cop agreed, unable to even consider showering, too physically and mentally exhausted to bother. All he wanted now was to take a nice, long nap in his Alpha's affectionate embrace. -I'm so glad we did it.

-Me too. -Buck hummed, pressing a fond kiss to the messy, sweaty hair of a person he considered to be his one true love. -I'm beyond excited to spend my whole life with you.

#omegaverse fanfiction #omegaverse #9 1 1 fanfiction #SWAT fanfiction #Buck x Jim #m/m smut #m/m

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covetyou · 4 months

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when we begin again

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con (reader was paying a debt, less so now), oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, thigh slaps (three small ones), small description of a hand injury, cumplay/cumshot/cum marking, praise kink, maybe Joel has a bit of a pain kink idk, possessive slutty Joel, derogatory names ("whore"), drug reference, unspecified age gap word count: 4.1k summary: He wasn't one to lick his wounds, but after a deal gone wrong Joel finds something he'd much rather put his mouth on.

A/N: and here we be, the first of the SWAT oneshots that serves as a sort of bridge between the main series and the few ideas I have brewing and ready to go. This is a whole re-write in less than 24 hours because the original fic I was almost finished with felt too me and not enough SWAT. no one needs sad girl monologuing about life and death and grief with their porn. you're welcome.

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"Hrrrmph!"

Joel's lips crash into yours the moment you step inside. One moment he's running an anxious hand through his graying hair, and the next he's making quick work of the space between you, striding across the floor to grab you and plant his lips firmly on yours.

It's not what you'd come here for, funnily enough. You wanted to talk and, glorious as it was to have your lips against his, you couldn't talk like this.

Wretching yourself away is stupid. After everything you know it's stupid, yet you do it anyway.

"Joel -"

Cupping your head in his hands his lips find yours again before you can get another word out, teeth knocking together as he licks into your mouth, and you briefly lose yourself, turning to putty in his arms, ready to sculpt into whatever he sees fit that day. Before the bonelessness takes hold completely, you pull back once more.

Searching his face you look for the sudden need, the sudden rush, the desire to kiss you and have your face in his hands that hadn't been there any other time until now. You see nothing, his dark eyes refusing to meet yours as his hands find themselves at the front of your pants, deftly unbuttoning them before you can even question him. Before he can unzip them, your hands find his, holding him gently in place.

Joel freezes, hands stilling on your zipper, and he pulls a small, sharp breath of air in through his nose as if you hurt him, wounded him by daring to slow him down.

"You want me to stop?" he growls.

"No, I just -"

"Then quit your complainin'."

You do. Briefly. Until the zip snags as he pulls on it again and he curses in frustration.

"Let me do it." Until last time, which wasn't really like any other time, he'd always asked you to strip yourself, made you strip in front of him before he touched out. His clumsy hands on your clothes felt alien, and as it was he was being too slow, even in his desperation.

"You not want me to touch you or somethin'?" he snaps, frowning down at your pants now as he fiddles with the zipper, trying to get it to budge.

"I never said that."

"Then quit your fuckin' complainin'."

And this time you really do when you finally see the tremble in his hands and the blood on his knuckles, and it occurs to you that maybe you did hurt him, that grabbing his hand to stop his frantic movement caused him pain.

Joel hadn't been in a rush before you got here. He'd been the opposite, pacing the floor, willing himself to slow down, calm down. And it had been working - each turn he could feel himself relaxing, all the pent up energy from a deal gone to absolute shit steadily leaving his bones. But your delicate knock on the door had sent his blood boiling in a different way. He'd fought with himself to ignore it, to tell you through the door to fuck off for another day, but the idea of something warm and wet and compliant to soothe his aches and pains was too enticing to pass up. Making you in particular moan and writhe and give in to him was even more impossible to let go. In the end, the door had practically let you in all on its own.

So when his hands pull at your zipper again, yanking it in frustration, you will it down, beg with your mind for it to not snag again, and you sigh with relief when it doesn't.

In one fluid movement your pants are unceremoniously pulled to your knees, and Joel is crowding you back against his dining table, rough and aching hands on your hips to guide you. Your exposed ass collides with the solid wood, and he's pressing into you, the hardening lump in the front of his jeans poking into the softness of your belly. You can feel the frustration in him and how it twitches through his fingertips, swells in his cock, and each time you feel how the need wins out over frustration as he grinds into you, latching him onto you as his veins hunt for some kind of relief.

Another yank of your jeans and he's pulled them to your ankles, stepping on them as he pushes you to sit on the table. Your jeans stay behind, dragging your shoes from your feet with a dull thud, and Joel kicks them away. Winters in Boston are bitter, none moreso than this one, and your frozen ass barely registers the feeling of the wooden surface as you sit on it, still kitted out in your hat, coat and gloves. When you move to pull them off his hand pushes between your breasts, knocking you back onto the table. A second later there's a harsh scrape of a chair across the floor and, just as you manage to tug one glove off, he's yanking you down the table toward him.

You sit up and look down where he sits between your legs, enraptured by the softness of your skin beneath hands that glide up and down your thighs, gripping and squeezing the soft flesh more gently than the wounds on his knuckles suggest he's capable of. He's holding off, you realize then as you watch his hands, trying to slow himself from taking what he needs.

Tossing your hat to the side you lift your hips, shimmying your panties down just enough for Joel's fingers to work them down the rest of the way. Sitting back in his chair he looks between your legs, and you know that he can see what you've been feeling since you stepped onto his street. By this point, the response was Pavlovian. Each step closer to Joel's apartment you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your cheeks feeling hotter and hotter. You wonder if one day he'd stop having this affect on you, or if he'd stop responding to it exactly how you knew he would, but with a knowing quirk in his brow, you know that day is not today.

"Fuck me, sweetheart. You sure no one else been down here today?"

Shaking your head, you manage one more look at him before he's pulling your legs up, hooking them over his shoulders and diving into your slick folds with a firm lick.

"N-no," you gasp, bucking slightly into his face with your legs spread over his broad shoulders. He should know that you haven't, that you wouldn't, but you think he just needs to hear the confirmation, needs to know that this thing in front of him right now is just his for the taking, and so you let him have it. "Haven't even touched myself today."

He moans into your cunt, cold nose pressing into the softness of your mound as his tongue laps and laves you. With a slurp, having cleaned up the arousal that had leaked out of you on your way here, he looks up at you, ticking his head to the side and nodding down to your bare pussy. "Well, shit, looks like all o' this is just for me, huh?"

There's no air left in your lungs for you to respond when his tongue circles your clit and makes you groan into the cold air. Whatever he needs, if this is how he was going to take it, you were damn well going to let him take everything you had.

And so, pinning you to the table he begins to devour your cunt, licking messily all over you, coating you in his saliva. He pulls you open with his arms hooked over your thighs, spreading your lips further for him. The chill hits you for just one second when you're fully spread to the cold air, but his mouth soon descends on you and all you can see are his eyes and the curve of his nose, his mouth hidden as he buries it into you.

You shuffle your jacket off, the room suddenly feeling much warmer than when you first entered it, and earn yourself a small slap to your thigh, making you squeak out a yelp of surprise, when Joel's mouth involuntarily pulls from your cunt.

"You gonna keep still? Or you gonna keep fuckin' wrigglin'?"

You shift again, biting your cheek as you test him. Channelling his energy into eating your cunt is working wonders for him and he seems calmer already, but that doesn't stop him lightly slapping your thigh again, shooting a warning look up at you.

"Got a way to keep you still if you can't fuckin' do it by yourself, sweetheart," he warns and, as if sensing you're about to test him again, he unhooks one arm from you and pushes a finger straight into your wet heat.

You moan, gasping again when he sucks your clit for good measure.

"Huh?" He's coaxing you, trying to get you to wiggle again and earn yourself another surprise. Not one to push your luck you simply moan, letting your back arch slightly when he begins to move his finger inside you. "What was that?"

"Fu-nothing. Just - fuck - so good."

You mind is liquid, seeping out of your ears and making a mess of your jacket when he licks you again, dancing the tip of two fingers around your entrance before sliding both into you. If it hurts him, he doesn't let on, but you can tell it does something to him by the groan he makes into your cunt as his fingers curl in you, making your walls clamp and twitch around his fingers.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Like gettin' this pussy ate, don't you?"

"Mm."

"Thought so. Needy fuckin' pussy. Not just your mouth that wants to be kissed is it, she needs it too?"

"Oh god, yes please, she needs it too."

And you can feel it, the moment he switches from eating your cunt to kissing it. You know the shapes, the trails he kisses, the way his tongue dances. You'd committed it to memory the past week, made yourself come at the thought of his mouth, the scratch of his beard, the feel of him beneath your fingertips, touching him as much as he was touching you. His mouth and the memory work together then, bringing you so impossibly close to coming you can feel as your moans leave you more high pitched, how you push into him, chasing and chasing that feeling that's right there -

"See," he says, stopping your orgasm in it's tracks when he pulls back, a knowing smile on his face. He pushes another finger into you too, watching as your legs twitch open wider to take him, the rim of your pussy spreading across his fingers with slicked up ease. "Don't even gotta stuff your mouth, just gotta keep this thing right here stuffed and suddenly you're actin' all nice and polite."

There's a brief hope in you that he'll go for a fourth finger, stretch you out across his sore knuckles and ready you for his hard cock, but the hope fizzles away, cast to the side and forgotten, the second his mouth joins his hand back between your thighs.

You're almost there again already, the crest of the orgasm he stole from you a moment ago barely behind you. His tongue laps rhythmically, never ceasing, and his breaths come in heavy, fanning across your folds as he feasts on you, fingers pumping so deep you're sloshing around them. You're hot, so impossibly hot in spite of the cold. You want to shed more layers, bare yourself for him, but you're so close and he's getting you there fast, goading you on with each satisfied groan into your cunt.

"That's it," he mumbles into your twitching pussy. "Fuck that's it sweetheart, come on my fingers."

You can feel it build, Joel's mouth engulfing you and lapping at everything you have to give. The beginnings of your orgasm start to shudder through you, your legs stuttering with every flick of his tongue. Your back arches from the table, toes curling in thick socks as your heels press into his back, pushing him into you. And then it hits you.

The coil in your belly snaps, letting loose an orgasm that swamps all your senses. Held down by Joel's muscular arm and pinned by the fingers hooked in you, you buck into his mouth. Quivering thighs have clamped around his ears, attempting to draw up and pull back as you squirm in his firm grip. You're screaming too, you think, a breathy high pitched shout of his name that you just can't hold back, that gets shakier and shakier the longer it goes on.

And it does go on. Joel doesn't stop, determined to wring from you as much as he can. His fingers are locked inside of you, forced to stillness by the pulsing in your pussy. Still, he can flex them, curling his pruning fingertips into you while he tongues your clit, groaning with each twitch of it beneath his tongue. You know that sound, how it's gotten deeper and more desperate as he's devoured you. It's a sound that tells you he's hard, that he needs relief and will be desperate for it the second he pulls away from you. That thought only makes you come harder, and by the time your cunt has stopped its erratic pulsing around Joel's fingers and you've fallen limp, deaf, and winded against his table, he's already standing, pushing the chair back and letting it crash to the floor.

Dragging his fingers from you he pushes between your legs, pulling his jeans open as best he can, wincing when he rasps his knuckles on the fabric a little too harshly. You reach for him, wanting to help, wanting to be a relief for him like he is for you.

"Let me -"

But he knocks your hand away, tugging down his jeans a moment later, his cock springing free and knocking into your thigh before he can capture it in his fist. It's hot against you, burning and dripping, likely feeling as achey as his knuckles do.

You expect him to plunge into you immediately, to take advantage of the position between your thighs and your pussy still fluttering with want at the sight of him, but he doesn't. Instead you watch for a moment as he strokes himself, the bloody scrapes on his knuckles contrasting harshly with the smooth, solid plains of his cock.

"Your hand, Joel, I can -"

"Fuck, my hand," he growls, resting his unmarred hand on your though to hold you still.

Your legs fall open further, his touch light on your thigh barely applying any pressure to open you up for him. Still, he doesn't take the clear route in, and you're rocking forward trying to notch his tip on your entrance just as the rough scrape of his knuckles drags across your sensitive inner thigh.

"Please put it in me," you finally beg, needing to feel the deep stretch of his cock as it pierces you.

"Nuh-uh, sweetheart, you get what you're given and you be grateful. You gonna take it?"

"Yes," you say quickly, following on with a small, "Please."

He groans at your eagerness to please. Making a man like Joel desire you so much he can't help but moan, just with small words and gasps of your own, makes you feel a power you've never had before and your eyes just about roll back in your head.

"Use your hands, show me that hole," he demands, giving you a little space to reach down and spread yourself for him. Your pussy is leaking, still, you can feel the slick spread on your fingers as you spread yourself for him. "That's it, hold yourself open. Fuck she's still twitchin'. Fuuuck. That's it."

His strokes become longer, more fluid, as he stares at your aching, empty cunt. You still want him inside, would do anything to get him there, but the desire in his eyes tells you he's getting exactly what he wants right now, and you almost want that more.

Tilting his head back as he strokes his cock with pussy drenched fingers, his bruised knuckles rub against your cunt with every stroke. Holding yourself open is easy, but keeping your legs from snapping shut each time his fist rubs your clit feels almost impossible. As if noticing, Joel pulls back, looking down where your cunt is spread open for it.

"That's it, keep it open. Good girl."

You know you're glistening for him, he'd eaten you so fiercely his saliva had been dripping from you, mixing with your own slick as you came on his tongue. He can see the evidence of it now, and the evidence of what his words do to you at the tell tale twitch of your cunt at his praise.

You can't take it any more and you beg in desperation again. "Please put it in, please."

It does nothing but earn you another soft slap to your thigh, which he rubs, grabbing the meat of you and squeezing in his large hand as his cock twitches and drips in his damaged one.

"No," he grunts, breath coming in more ragged now. "Want you to fuckin' wear me. Know who's pussy this is?"

"Yours."

"Fuck," he hisses. "Yeah it is. Pussy's mine, sweetheart. Mine."

Gripping your thigh tighter he moves in closer again, his hand bumping your sensitive nub as he jerks so closely you slick up his knuckles, soothing the soreness and jerking your clit in tandem.

"Oh fuck, that's it, sweetheart. Keep it just like that, show me that pussy. Show me," he's saying, over and over as he watches you.

A second later he's looking up, staring straight into your eyes and pinning you there on the table with them. You nod, words stuck in your throat when all you want to scream is for him to come, to cover you in it, to claim your pussy just like he needs, just like you want.

The sneer on his lips tells you he wants it too, and before you know it his tip is pressing firmly to your clit, jerking it with every frantic movement of his fist, his hips thrusting minutely into it like he can't control it, can't hold it back any more. And neither can you. The pressure and the movement on your clit is too much and you're coming again, so soon after the first it brings tears to your eyes.

"Ohhh, f-Joel, pleasecomeonme."

Looking down where he's pressed to you, he hisses a breath in through his teeth, holding it for just one second until it pushes out of him with a deep, shakey moan, cum exploding out of his tip and coating your folds, dripping through you until the last spurt coats your mound and he's left breathless.

You flop onto the table, grateful for the padding your coat offers your bones as you collapse into the wood. He's leaning over you, finally releasing his grip on your thigh and running a thumb across his mouth, cock still in his aching fist. Using the oversensitive tip, he smears the cum into your bare cunt and the insides of your thighs, catching your eyes just in time to watch them turn from glassy to rattling in your head, your mouth in a small O when he jerks your clit with his head, making you both gasp.

"You did say this pussy was mine," he says, letting a small wry smile tug at his cheeks. He pulls back then, letting go of his spent cock to run his fingers through your cum covered folds, scooping up a drop with his thumb.

Leaning leaning over you, he swipes his cum slicked thumb against your lips. You suck on it, tasting him, salty and bitter and sweet and Joel exploding on your tongue all at once. You want to thank him for it, but he pulls your mouth open with his thumb and pushes two fingers in, making you clean them with broad soothing strokes. You're careful not to catch him with your teeth, still aware of the wounds on his knuckles as you taste yourself off of his cum soaked fingers. If his hand looks like that, you wonder what the person on the receiving end looks like - the thought shouldn't make your cunt twitch, you know it shouldn't, that it's likely sick and twisted and wrong, but it does, and you moan around his fingers just has he pulls them from your mouth.

When your eyes flick to his lips, he smirks, knowing what you want without even asking. Cupping your face with his bruised, wet fingers, he makes you look at him, waits for the desperation in your eyes to ramp up to the point of frustration before he gives it to you.

Just a peck, that's all he gives, soft lips and the tickle of his facial hair so fleeting you could have blinked and missed it, before picking up the chair with a groan and settling back in it with a deep sigh, inspecting his wrinkled fingers. They'd spent so long buried in you the tips are starting to pucker, the ache that your warmth had soothed slowly crawling back down his knuckles.

Your mind is slowly pulling itself together, slowly crawling back into your ears and taking root in your skull again. Joel's eyes scan across you before finding something apparently considerably more interesting on the floor by his dining table.

"Where the fuck you shoppin' this late in the day?" he says with a frown, and you sit up, following his gaze to the floor.

Your pants are in a tangle, a sprawled mess on the floor with your shoes from where Joel had dragged them from your body and there, next to them in a messy pile, is a small stack of cards that you'd brought with you.

"Oh."

Right. You came here to talk to him, to renegotiate your arrangement, before Joel had needed more from you than a chat in that first moment through the door and pushed all thought of conversation from your mind. You clear your throat and square your shoulders, pushing away the last haze of orgasm and look back up at him. "I'm not. They're for you."

With a groan, he bends to pick them up, counting them as he stands and then raising them to you with a question on his lips.

"What're these for?"

"For the pills," you say, like it's obvious, like you hadn't been using your body as payment for months.

"I've already taken my payment," he says with a look to your cum coated cunt. "'n' if you wanna pay me for your daddies pills, you know it's more than this, right?"

"I can take 'em back if you don't want 'em. I just figured we can pay a bit now and, y'know... I wanna come here because I wanna come here, for me, not just for pills all the time." It sounded better when you rehearsed it in your head this morning, but coming out of your mouth now it sounds ridiculous.

He looks at you for a moment, taking you in, sat pantsless and dripping on his dining table.

"Y'know, there's a simpler solution to this than dumpin' cards on me without warnin', right?" If there is, you haven't thought of it. "Stop only comin' by when you need pills." Oh.

"If you want somethin' else, you know where I am. Now, if you don't wanna whore yourself for meds anymore, if you wanna be respectable, then that's fine. I'll take your cards. But I ain't takin' all of 'em. I'm keepin' these," he says raising a few cards up to you. "And you're takin' these," he pushes the remaining ones into your hand along with a small bag of pills he slips out of his pocket and you frown. You already weren't offering him enough.

"Now I get a nice respectable, good girl to fuck, and you get to pretend you're not a whore. Win-win."

"I'm not a whore," you insist, rolling your eyes, even though you know it's not exactly true.

Joel simply shrugs, shaking out your jeans and throwing them on the table next to you before placing his hand by your ass, thumb stroking delicately along the soft skin there, and leaning down toward you. He tilts your head up to face him, his nose catching yours as your eyes meet his.

"Whore or not, sweetheart," he smirks. "Pussy's still mine."

You weren't going to argue with him there.

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