#but i just kept looking down the driveway

[cutielando]

a special day | l.n.

synopsis: in which you made sure to make Lando’s birthday a special day for him

a/n: i know this is a day late, but, for some reason, tumblr decided to delete my entire fic before i could hit post and i had to rewrite it :]]]]]

my masterlist

The evening was alive with a golden sunset casting warm light across Monaco’s harbor. The luxurious apartment you shared with Lando was transformed into a cozy, intimate space, complete with soft string lights and the subtle scent of his favorite candles. You had spent the entire day preparing for this moment—his birthday celebration, just the two of you.

Lando was out, finishing up a last-minute appearance at an event, which gave you just enough time to finalize every detail. The table was set with his favorite foods, and a small, personalized birthday cake sat in the center, decorated with checkered flags and the number “25” written boldly in icing.

You heard the familiar rumble of an engine approaching. Peering out the window, you saw Lando’s sleek car pull into the driveway. A smile spread across your face as you adjusted your dress and took a deep breath, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

The door opened, and there he stood, slightly tired but with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hair was tousled from a day of events, but when his gaze landed on you, a look of surprise and adoration replaced any trace of fatigue.

“Happy birthday, Lando,” you said, stepping toward him with a playful grin.

His eyes softened as he walked over and wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“You did all this?” he whispered, his voice full of appreciation as he glanced around at the glowing room.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling back to see his face. “You only turn 25 once, and I wanted to make sure it was special.”

Lando’s smile was genuine, and a hint of emotion glistened in his blue eyes.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

The two of you sat down to eat, laughter and stories filling the room as you recounted memories from the past year—his race wins, the spontaneous road trips, and the quiet, lazy mornings spent together. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, completely engrossed in listening to you speak, a look of pure happiness radiating from him.

When the cake came out, Lando’s expression lit up like a kid’s. You sang a playful rendition of “Happy Birthday,” earning a light blush on his cheeks. He blew out the candles with a wish he kept secret, though the way he looked at you suggested it had something to do with the future you were building together.

After dinner, you led him out to the balcony, where a pair of plush chairs awaited. The night was cool, and the stars above sparkled like diamonds scattered across velvet. Lando pulled you close as the two of you sat down, the city below humming with distant life.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. The warmth of his words, paired with the contented silence that followed, made the moment feel infinite.

Wrapped up in Lando’s embrace, you felt the world around you fade as if it was just the two of you against the backdrop of the glittering sky.

“So,” you said softly, tilting your head up to look at him, “what was your wish?”

A playful smirk curved on his lips as he looked down at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true, right?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes with a light laugh, the sound making his smile broaden.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” you said, poking his side, earning a soft chuckle from him.

The sound of his laughter was warm and rich, something you could never get enough of.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded after a moment, brushing a stray hair away from your face. “I wished for more moments like this. More nights with you, more… us.”

The sincerity in his voice melted your heart. The normally lighthearted and playful Lando had a deeper, more thoughtful side that he shared only with you. It was in these moments that you felt the full weight of what your relationship meant.

“I think that’s a wish I can make come true,” you whispered, leaning in until your noses brushed.

He closed the distance, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that spoke volumes. The world seemed to stop as you felt the warmth of his hand cupping your cheek and the soft press of his mouth against yours. It was as if he was savoring every second, making a memory of it.

When you broke apart, you both sat there for a while, talking about dreams and plans for the future. He spoke about his racing goals, the adventures he wanted to have, and even mentioned places he wanted to visit with you—places neither of you had been before. The idea of seeing the world together, one race and road trip at a time, filled you both with excitement.

“Let’s make a promise,” Lando said suddenly, his eyes gleaming with that determined spark he often wore on race day. “No matter where life takes us, we’ll always make time for this—time for us.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of affection wash over you. “Deal,” you agreed, linking your pinky with his. The gesture was light, almost silly, but in that moment, it felt like an unbreakable bond.

When the night deepened and the city grew quieter, Lando pulled you inside. The warmth of the apartment embraced you as you settled on the couch, a playlist of his favorite songs humming in the background. You sat curled up together, your head resting on his chest as his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm.

“This has been perfect,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“It’s not over yet,” you said, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Oh? What more do you have planned?” he asked with mock surprise, though his eyes lit up with curiosity.

You reached behind the couch and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped gift. His eyebrows rose as he took it from you, the corners of his mouth turning up in anticipation. Carefully, he unwrapped it to reveal a framed picture of the two of you at his most recent race win, your arms wrapped around each other and wide smiles on both your faces.

“I wanted you to have this,” you said. “A reminder that I’m always going to be your biggest fan, on and off the track.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at the picture, then back at you. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a mixture of gratitude and love that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “For everything.”

♡♡♡♡♡

As the night stretched on, the conversation shifted from lighthearted memories to dreams and ambitions, filling the room with a sense of hope and excitement. Lando leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if picturing the future he was about to describe.

“I know racing will always be a huge part of my life,” he started, his voice thoughtful. “But sometimes I think about what comes after that, you know? When the cheers die down, and it’s just me… and hopefully, you,” he added with a grin that made your heart flutter.

“I’d love to travel more,” he continued. “Not just for races, but to explore places at our own pace—renting a camper van and driving through New Zealand or hiking the trails in Patagonia. Just us, no pressure, no schedules. What do you think?” His eyes flickered with excitement as he turned to you.

“I think that sounds perfect,” you said, smiling at the thought.

The idea of adventure with Lando, where you’d trade high-speed circuits for winding roads and campfires, felt like a dream. “And when we’re tired of wandering, maybe we find a quiet spot to call home.”

Lando’s gaze softened.

“Exactly. I imagine a house overlooking the water, maybe here or somewhere new. We’d have a big garage filled with old project cars we’d work on together. And a cozy kitchen where you’d try out recipes and I’d ‘help’ by taste-testing everything,” he added, laughter in his voice.

“Only if you promise not to distract me too much,” you joked, nudging him playfully.

“Deal,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And… if we’re talking long-term, I wouldn’t mind the idea of a family someday.” His tone grew quieter, more serious, as if testing the waters of this shared dream.

The thought sent a warm shiver through you, an image forming of little feet running through the house, laughter echoing in sunlit rooms.

You felt your breath catch at the idea.

“Really?” you asked, eyes searching his face.

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made you believe every word. “Not right away, of course. But down the line, when we’re ready… it feels right. I want the whole package: the chaos, the little moments, teaching them to race on tiny go-karts in the backyard,” he said, the vision making him chuckle.

The two of you fell into an easy silence, the future rolling out before you like a road just waiting to be driven. It was exhilarating and comforting at the same time.

“And when we’re not busy being the coolest parents around,” you added, resting your head on his shoulder, “we’ll still find time for things like this. Just us, under the stars, no matter where we are.”

Lando kissed the top of your head, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“That’s all I need, really. Racing might be my first love, but you’re my forever one.”

The words hung between you, heavy with promise. You tilted your head up, your eyes locking onto his with a smile that mirrored his own. It was in moments like this that you knew, without a doubt, that your paths were intertwined—not just for now but for every tomorrow that followed.

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[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 11)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/n find out more about their baby while trying to distance themselves from the crime.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4k+

It'd been a few weeks since the cops chased John B and Sarah out into the storm. They were presumed dead.

People were talking. The rumor that it had actually been Rafe that had killed Peterkin was circling around the island but there was no evidence to prove it. And going after the Cameron's, especially after they'd just lost their daughter, was not a good look.

Even more so, you were showing now. Elliot Y/L/N's daughter was bearing Rafe Cameron's child. Needless to say, you and Rafe had protection.

However, that didn't stop the sideways stares you received attending Sheriff Peterkin's funeral. Or the way Topper and Kelce had slowly distanced themselves from the two of you.

"Did he do it?" Courtney had asked you as you sat across from her in her bed.

You answered with your eyes. You couldn't lie to her. But you couldn't say it out loud.

She nodded. The lack of words exchanged kept her safe. Kept Rafe safe. But she knew. She'd never say a word though. She loved you. She loved Rafe. And she loved the baby that would need both of it's parents.

-

You gripped Rafe's hand tightly as the doctor scanned your ultrasound.

"5 months! Good weight, looking healthy as can be." The doctor says. "Would you like to know the sex?"

You smile widely at his words. You could see Rafe shaking with anticipation. "Yes, please!"

"Well, Miss Y/L/N. People will owe you a lot of money. It's a boy."

You squeal with excitement and you watch as Rafe tries to contain himself, wanting nothing more than to jump around the room and cheer.

You knew from the beginning. You always knew. Call it mother's intuition. Mother. The term felt so real now.

Rafe kneels down beside you, placing kisses all over your swollen belly. You giggle at the sensation.

"I'll give you two a minute." The doctor smiles. "When you're ready, just head to the front desk and schedule your next appointment."

Rafe looked up at you, tears streaming down his cheeks. You laugh but couldn't help the tears spilling from your eyes as well.

"I can't believe this is real." He whispers against your skin. "You still want to name him after me?"

"Of course I do! Wolf's been his name since the beginning. It's who he is. I can tell. I'm his mom." You tease, getting used to referring to yourself as that.

Rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips before trailing the rest of your face with kisses. He'd never been so happy in his life.

-

Rafe gushed about your future the whole ride back to Tannyhill. About the house he was going to buy you, about colors for the nursery, about all the sports he was going to teach Wolf.

You smiled the whole way, admiring the smile on his face at the thought of his son.

When you pulled into the driveway Rafe quickly hopped out to come retrieve you. You chuckled as he pulled you inside, clutching the ultrasound pictures tightly.

"Dad! Rose! Wheeze!" He yelled.

"What's going on?" Wheezie asked, poking her head out of the living room.

"Where's dad and Rose?"

"We're right here," Rose said as her and Ward enter the foyer. "Is everything okay?"

Rafe excitedly passed out the pictures, smile wide on his face. "It's a boy!"

"Oh my God!" Wheezie squealed.

Rafe pulled you to his chest and squeezed you tightly. You were at pure bliss with how happy he was. You hadn't seen him like this in so long.

Ward was still grieving the loss of Sarah but you caught the genuine smile break across his face as he stared at the picture of his soon to be grandson. "Shit," He mumbled, running his fingers over the scruff coating his face. Rafe looked at his father hopefully. "This is-wow. Congratulations, son."

Rafe smiled. "Thanks, dad."

"You guys are gonna be great parents." Rose cooed, pulling you into a hug.

"Do you have any names for him?" Wheezie asked hopefully.

"We do, actually." You say, earning Ward's attention away from the photo in his hands.

Rafe smiles even bigger, you swear he was going to bruise his cheeks with how much he was smiling.

"Rafe-" You begin. "Rafe means Counsel of the Wolves. So we're naming him Wolf. Wolf Cameron."

"What? That's so cool!" Wheezie says. "Holy shit, I'm gonna be an aunt!"

"Language, Wheeze!" Rose scolds.

"Your, uh...your mother named you. I didn't know that was the meaning." Ward said softly, almost disappointed in himself for not knowing that.

"Thought he should have a strong name," You start, wrapping your arms around Rafe's waist and looking up at him. "Like his daddy."

Rafe was an absolute mess of pure bliss.

"Okay, uh..." Rafe says, running his fingers through his hair manically. "I have to take you out tonight. Wherever you want. Whatever you and Wolf are hungry for."

"Oh, let us cook!" Wheezie says. "Please?!"

You glance at her and Rose. They both seemed eager to make a special dinner for the two of you.

Rafe looks at you, eager to know what you want to do. You were beginning to feel overwhelmed.

"Uhm, yeah Wheeze! That sounds good! Italian?" You offer.

"On it!" Wheezie says, running to the kitchen.

"You two go rest." Rose smiles. "Rafe, breathe."

You notice the way Wheezie and Rose pin your ultrasound photos to the fridge. You also notice the way Ward stuffs his in his pocket.

"Uh, Y/N. I have something for you." Ward says as he walks back to his office. You and Rafe follow slowly. Ward picks an envelope off his desk and hands it to you. "From your father."

Your breath hitches. You'd written your dad a while ago to tell him the news but you hadn't heard back. You were at the Cameron's so often you had just sent the letter from there. "Thanks," You say, taking the letter from him warily. You had no idea what your father's reaction would be and you knew Ward would be eager to know.

You and Rafe head up to his room. You still had a few more photos from the ultrasound and you watched as Rafe propped one up on his nightstand, smiling down at it. It made your heart flutter.

You sat on the bed and sighed, staring at the letter. Rafe sat behind you, pulling you into him. The feeling of his arms around you calmed your nerves.

You ran your nail under the envelope to open it. You took a deep breath as you unfolded the letter.

Y/N,

Wow. It's so good to hear from you. Although, that was not the news I was expecting to get. Pregnant. I'll be honest, I went through a range of emotions at first. One of them being the urge to strangle Rafe. But I talked to some of the people here. They are really great. They helped me realize that you are an adult. You won't always be my little girl.

You are so much like your mother, and because of that, I know that you will be a great mother. And I know Rafe will be a great father. I trust he is taking good care of you. I trust that all the Cameron's are. I pray you're staying clean. For yourself and your new little family. I know you can do it. You're strong. You just have to put your strength to use in the right places.

I hate to do it, but I will be staying for a few more months. I miss you and I wish so badly I was there with you, but this experience has really opened my eyes and I just don't feel like I am ready to leave yet. But when I come back I will be a better father and grandfather. I can't tell you how excited I am to meet him or her.

Take care of yourself. I love you. Talk soon.

Dad

You stared at the letter with a lack of emotions. You knew they were there somewhere but you just couldn't bring yourself to feel them. You'd built up a wall. Of course he was staying longer. You weren't surprised. I mean, good for him right? It's what he needs. At least he is happy for you and not grabbing the first flight home to murder Rafe.

You fold the letter up and set it to the side. "You okay?" Rafe asks.

"Mhmm," You say. "I'm really sleepy. Can we nap?"

"Of course, my love."

Rafe gets up and shuts the blinds in his room before crawling back into bed beside you. He wraps his arm around you and tucks his hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over your belly.

"Shit!" You hiss and grab your stomach.

"What? Are you okay? What happened?!" Rafe asks.

You chuckle. "Nothing, babe, I'm fine. He's just kicking." You reassure him. "Here, feel." You guide Rafe's hand to the spot where a tiny foot was thumping against your inner belly.

"Holy shit," Rafe smiles. "That's our son." His voice was so soft, so absolutely entranced by the movements inside you.

You smile, enjoying the little jolts inside your stomach as Rafe caressed you skin.

-

You woke up around 7pm to Rafe bringing you a plate of chicken alfredo.

"Oh shit," You mutter, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "I forgot Wheezie and Rose were cooking for us."

"It's okay, baby. I told them you were really tired. We can just eat in here and watch a movie."

You smile, taking the plate from him. You were grateful for their efforts but you don't think you'd be able to make it downstairs without falling asleep.

You lazily ate your food as Jurassic Park played on the tv. You were starving but you could barely keep your eyes open. You managed to finish your food and set your plate on the night stand before pulling yourself out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

You peed and chugged a glass of water before stumbling back and collapsing in bed.

"Back to bed, my angel? Did you eat enough?"

"Mhmm," You groan. "Shhh, I go sleep now."

Rafe giggled and placed a kiss on your head, instantly shipping you off to dreamland once again. Pregnancy made you tired.

-

"Rafe,"

Rafe snaps awake to find Ward standing in the dark of his room.

"What? What is it?" He asked sleepily, looking over at you to make sure you were still asleep.

"I need your help." Ward said.

Rafe slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake you, and followed his dad outside.

"I need you to keep quiet and stay calm okay?" Ward said.

"Yeah, okay." Rafe responded nervously.

Ward pulled back the cover on the truck to reveal a large bag.

"W-what is that?"

"It's a body, son."

"Oh my God." Rafe says, losing control of his breathing. "Oh my God, it's a body? Whose body is it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? My girlfriend is upstairs! Whose body is it, dad?!

"It's Gavin!" Ward hisses, slapping his hand over Rafe's mouth.

Rafe pulls back. "Gavin? The pilot? W-why? What'd he do?"

"He was trying to blackmail us. He had the gun that you used to kill Peterkin. I told him to throw it over the ocean on the way to the Bahamas but he didn't. He kept it." Ward explained.

Rafe's eyes were wide with anxiety.

"He was going to turn you in, Rafe. I couldn't let that happen. Not when-" Ward sighs. "Not with Wolf on the way..."

Rafe eyed his father for a moment before glancing back to the body. "He said you were a psychopath, Rafe, and that he wasn't going to jail for you. Now can you please help me carry him to the boat."

Rafe took a deep breath, absorbing all the information. Gavin was a threat. Ward took care of him. Just like Rafe took care of Peterkin. A dead witness meant a safe place for him and his family.

"I got the head." He says.

-

You woke up to an empty space beside you. You frowned, hoping Rafe was just downstairs.

You reached for your phone and scrolled through your messages.

Rafe: Gotta take care of some business. I'll be back later. I love you more than life.

You sighed. You knew it wasn't work related business.

You open the next message.

Courtney: Wanna kick it?

You smile. You needed to get out of the house and do something.

Please. You respond.

You get up and go to Rafe's bathroom, pulling open your drawer where you kept your make up, tampons, moisturizer, and all the other shit you could possibly need when you stay at his house. Although you had your own drawer, lashes and hair ties and glitter still took up most of his bathroom counter.

You get to work on your face, opting for a simple make up look since you and Courtney planned to spend the day getting your nails done and shopping for Wolf.

Here, bitch

You smile, checking yourself in the mirror one more time before heading downstairs.

You hop in Courtney's car and hold up your nails. "Take me to the salon right fucking now. This should be illegal!"

Courtney examined your pink claws in desperate need for a rebase. "Atleast you still have all yours. I'm missing three!"

Courtney backs out of Tannyhill and makes her way to town. "Soooo?" She asks. "How was the doctor yesterday? Did you find out what you're having?!"

You look over at her and smile. "It's a boy."

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Courtney screams. "YAYAYAYAYAY!!!"

"We're naming him Wolf." You smile.

"Oh my God that's so fucking cute!!! Where'd you come up with that?"

"Naming him after Rafe. He's absolutely over the moon."

Courtney beams over at you. "I still can't believe you guys are having a baby. Really never thought I'd see the day you or Rafe Cameron settled down."

"I wouldn't exactly say we're settled." You laugh.

"Where is Rafe anyways?"

You shrug. "Said he was taking care of some business. I don't really want to know to be honest."

Courtney nods and decides not to press it further. The two of you go to the salon. You opt for white toenails to bring out your tan and glittery gold coffin nails for your fingers. You felt like a new person as you walked around town, looking at the cute baby items all the shops had. You couldn't believe you were spending a Saturday shopping for a baby instead of getting fucked up on the beach. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yo, is that Rafe and Barry?" Courtney asked suddenly as the two of you made your way down the street.

You look up to see Rafe and Barry fucking with the water system. "What the fuck..." You whisper to yourself before heading towards them. "What are you two doing?"

Rafe and Barry turn to look at you at you and Courtney. "Uuhhhh..."

"You better not try to lie to me right now, Rafe Cameron." You said sternly.

Rafe knew better than to lie. He took your arm and pulled you to the side. "My dad lost the gun..." He stated quietly.

"The one-"

"Yes." He cut you off. "He dropped it down the sewer by accident. We're trying to get it back."

Before you could respond your heard the sound of echoing voices.

"Guys! There's something dead in here!"

You and Rafe walked closer to the sound.

"Is it Gavin?! Do you see the gun?!"

The fucking Pogues.

"They're in the sewer." Rafe states.

"Shit..." You hear Courtney say.

Rafe turns back to Barry. "Flush 'em out."

"You flush that pipe, you gonna kill the rat." Barry warns.

"Yeah." Rafe's voice was confident.

"The last thing you need is more dead bodies showin' up around this bitch."

"If you're gonna be a pussy then you can leave." Rafe says.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bruh?"

You and Courtney watch as Barry and Rafe stare at eachother for a moment.

"Get the hell out of the way." Rafe finally says. Barry does as he's told and leaves. The three of you standing in silence. You glance at Courtney.

"I'll go get the car," She said. "Be ready."

Courtney walks off towards the car and you turn to Rafe. "They all know?"

He bites his lip and nods.

"Okay. Drown 'em." You tell him. You tried not to think about the murderous path you had joined Rafe on, but you needed to protect your family. These Pogues were going to try to take him down and you couldn't let that happen.

Rafe smiles at you and you smile back. He begins turning the wheel and you watch as water begins to bubble out of the manhole. You listen closely for the voices.

"Guys! The water!" You can hear Kiara yell. "Guys, help!!"

You laugh. "Got 'em."

Courtney pulls up quickly and you and Rafe jump in her car. She speeds off towards Figure Eight, leaving the Pogues to drown in the sewer system.

-

You stared out at the moonlight hitting the water while Rafe and Ward talked.

"I looked for it everywhere, I swear to God." Rafe said.

"I know, I know. I'm not mad at you."

"Listen, if those Pogues got the gun we can just say John B stole it, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah I mean he lived at the house." Ward responded. "He's a known thief. Absolutely, yes."

You turn to Rafe. He holds out his arm for you and pulls you close to him. You remained quiet while him and Ward talked. You were as much a part of this now as they both were. There was no way you'd be kept out of the loop and they knew that. Even though you were pregnant, you still possessed all the crazy that Rafe did and now that the two of you were expecting, it fueled your fire even more, ready to do absolutely anything to take care of your baby.

"Listen, guys..." Ward begins. "I have to fly to the Bahamas tomorrow. Will you-will you guys go with me?"

Rafe looks at you and you smile your approval. "Yeah, yes sir."

"Good. It will be good to get you guys out of here. And honestly, I feel like I need someone to have my back."

"I got that. All day." Rafe says.

Ward looks at Rafe with love in his eyes. An expression you barely ever see from him. "You do, don't you?"

Rafe smiles. The smile only you and his dad are able to pull out of him. It makes your heart melt.

"Are you okay to fly?" Ward asks you.

"Yeah. I'll be good." You say with a smile.

"Okay. I'll see you two in the morning."

"You sure you're okay to go, sweet girl?" Rafe asks once his dad disappears down the dock.

You felt your hormones take over suddenly and you couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?!" Rafe asked, pulling you into his chest.

"I just-I just want to be with you." You cry. "All the time. I hate when I'm not with you."

"I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

"This is just all so overwhelming, Rafe. I just want you to be okay. I'm so scared."

Rafe kneels down in front of you, holding your hips and placing kisses to your belly. He looks up at you. "I'm okay, baby girl. I'm going to make sure everything is okay. I'm going to take care of you and Wolfie, okay?"

You stare down at him through watery eyes and nod, running your fingers through his hair.

"Nothing will take apart our family. I promise." He tells you.

You smile. He smiles back, standing up and pressing his lips to yours. "Let's go pack, baby."

-

You practically want to kiss the ground when you touch down in Nassau. You were puking the entire plane ride. Rafe holding your hair back over a bucket while Ward flew the plain. You had no morning sickness your entire pregnancy but as soon as you were in the air you could not hold on to your stomach.

Once you got into the truck and rolled the windows down you felt a thousand times better. Ward stopped and picked up some sandwiches which you were grateful for because you had absolutely nothing in your stomach.

When you pulled up to the Cameron's Bahama house you were more than excited to go inside and lay down.

"I'm sorry this trip's been so hard, baby." Rafe says sadly as he helps you out of the car.

"It's okay. I'm just glad we're here." You say, lacing your fingers through his and resting the other hand on your baby bump.

"I didn't just bring you guys here because I need your help." Ward says. "I want to show you guys something."

Ward walks over to the large safe he had built into the wall. "You ready?"

You hold Rafe's hand tightly. "What you got in there? The Hope Diamond?" Rafe chuckles.

Ward smiles and opens the door to the safe. Your jaw drops at the sight. Gold. A lot. Of fucking. Gold.

"Is that real?" Rafe asks.

"Son, that's the realest thing there is." Ward says. He grabs two blocks of gold and hands one to each of you.

You gasp at the weight of it in your hands.

"You found..." Rafe begins. "You found the Royal Merchant?"

"Holy shit," You whispered.

"That's what all this has been about. The shit with John B, his dad, Peterkin. It's what Elliot and I worked out. All this gold, it's ours now. It can't bring your sister back, but it can save us."

"Jesus," Rafe whispers, you look up at him in awe.

"When Agatha hit we were in a financial hole, a deep one. Now we're not."

"How much are we looking at here?" You ask as you eye the gold.

"Half a billion." Ward responds.

You drop the gold to the floor as you turn to look at him. "Half-half a billion?"

Ward chuckles, picking the gold bar up off the ground.

"Oh, my God." Rafe says. "Holy shit!" He skips to the back porch. "Whoo! Haha! Dad what?! How is this even possible, huh?!"

You could feel a tear escape your eye as you laughed. You were set for life. I mean shit, you already were, but now you really were. You and Rafe could get a place of your own, you'd be able to send Wolf to college. The world was literally yours.

"Rafe look at me, look." Ward says, grabbing Rafe's shoulders. "I'm hard on you, Rafe. I'm real hard on you. That day on the tarmac. This is what was on the cargo plane." Ward says, holding up a piece of gold. "You were the only reason we were able to fly that out."

You look over at them, watching Rafe absorb his father's words.

"You, Rafe. Without you, no gold."

You walk over to them, pulling them both into a hug.

"You guys will be set. Wolf will be set for life. We wouldn't have this gold without the two of you." Ward says.

Rafe turns and wraps his arms fully around you, picking you up and twirling you around. Ward smiles at the sight of you two.

You giggle in Rafe's arms, pressing a deep kiss to his lips when he sets you down.

"You two go get some rest. We're flying this out first thing in the morning." Ward says, patting Rafe on the back. "You feeling okay, Y/N?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm great. Thank you for this." You say to Ward.

"Wouldn't have been able to do it without your dad's help." Ward smiles. "Now go. Figure out what school my grandson will be attending."

You chuckle and offer a smile.

"Thanks, dad." Rafe says before grabbing both your bags and heading upstairs, pulling you along with him.

He brings you to his room of the Bahama house. It was gorgeous. Gold assets and a large double door that lead out to a patio facing the ocean. It looked like a hotel room at the Versace mansion.

You and Rafe were all smiles. "We're set, baby." Rafe says as the two of you lay down on his bed. "We're fucking set."

You laugh. You couldn't believe how fucking set you were. "I fucking love you, Rafe."

"Marry me." He says quickly, but meaningfully. As if the question, or the demand, has been in his head forever. "Please. Please, marry me."

You look over at him in shock.

"I will buy you the prettiest ring. I promise. I just want..." He starts, turning towards you and cupping your cheek. "I want you to be my wife."

You place your hand over his and smile. "Of course I'll marry you, Rafe."

That sets off his big ass grin. "Really?"

"Yes. YES!" You say excitedly.

Rafe rolls you over, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips as he hovers over you. "I'm gonna put another baby in you now." He whispers against your lips.

"I don't think it works like that," You giggle.

"I'm gonna try anyways," He says, reaching under your dress and ripping your panties off.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

[fanficsbysteve]

The Best for the Both of Them

This will be my first foray into writing fanfiction in a long long time so please be kind. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Hate Mail is not. I also haven't used Tumblr in awhile so if anyone has any suggestions on how I can make my posts better or easier for you all to read, please let me know.

Rated: PG? WC: 4863

___________________________________________________________

 “I’ll see you around Buck”, Tommy stood for a second before he walked to the door and out of Evan’s loft. His mind was reeling from what he just did. Evan had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and he had just ended it. Did he do the right thing? He kept walking eventually coming to his truck. He got in and looked up at the windows to Evan’s loft. He saw his now ex-boyfriend standing there looking out at him.

                “This is the best thing for both of us,” he told himself as he started the truck up and drove off towards his house, “It was never meant to last anyways. I’m his first not his last” he just kept telling himself that as a means of justifying it to himself. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes as he drove towards his house. He didn’t want to do that. Evan was the sweetest and most caring person he had ever known. But he couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he decided that Tommy wasn’t enough for him. Yes that was an incredibly Biphobic mentality to have, and he knew it, but your brain is never logical when it comes to your emotions and your potential for heartbreak.

                He pulled into his driveway and turned off his truck. Sitting in his truck he let the tears start to roll down his cheeks. Sobs racked his body as he just let out all the sadness that he was feeling over what he had done. He desperately wanted to take out his phone and call Evan and say he was sorry. Say he didn’t mean it. Beg him for forgiveness. But he knew he couldn’t do that. No this was how it had to be.

                After about 10 minutes of the ugliest crying, he had ever done in his life, he composed himself, got out of his truck and head inside his house. It was going to be a long night, and he knew it. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                Tommy took a couple days off work so he could just get all his crying out. His work best friend, Jessica, had come by a couple times during that time to check in on him and see how he was doing. She reported to him that he always looked like shit and that he needed to pull himself together. She really didn’t get it though did she. She had been with her husband for as long as he knew her.

                After the third day, Tommy again pulled himself together and compartmentalize all his emotions like he had grown accustomed to all those many years ago. Looking around his house he found so many things that reminded him of Evan. Some of his clothes that he had left behind after a night over, a toothbrush, some different knickknacks that he bought for Tommy to keep in his apartment to remind him. Sighing, Tommy picked up a box and started to place all of Evan’s items into it. He kept the pictures. And a hoodie. He may have broken up with Evan, but he didn’t want to forget about him completely. He was a big part of his life for the past 6 months. Everything else went into this box.

                He spent the better part of a day trying to decide the best way to get these items back to Evan. He didn’t feel ready to see Evan again so going to the loft to drop them off was probably not in the cards. Maybe Eddie or Chim could get them to him. Though not sure if that was going to be easy either. They were both closer to Evan than they were to him. Wouldn’t hurt to try anyways.

                Tommy took out his phone and shot a quick text message off to Eddie. He didn’t expect anything back right away, but little did he know, “You fucked up bud” was all he got back at first.

“Don’t you think I thought this through,” he responded back.

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up” Eddie wrote back.

“I have a bunch of Evan’s stuff that he left at my place that needs to get back to him,” Tommy wrote quickly, “And I don’t think either of us wants to see each other right now.”

“I spent the past 3 days with a very drunk Evan pining over you hard,” Eddie replied, “You have no idea how badly this is affecting him.”

“He doesn’t know how this is affecting me either,” Tommy sent back, “Can I leave his stuff with you, and you give it to him?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Eddie wrote back, “But I think the two of you need to talk this out. Sometime before my liver gives out.”

                Tommy sighed and took the box to his Truck, meaning to head towards Eddie’s house. At least Eddie was still talking to him, which was a good sign. He hadn’t fucked things up with the entire 118 at least. He drove about an hour to get to Eddie’s house. Seeing Evan’s Jeep parked out front, Tommy drove right past the front of Eddie’s house and parked a ways up the street so that he wouldn’t be noticed. God, he needed to mature up, but he really didn’t want to see Evan right now. He had just gotten himself to stop crying and he knew that if he saw him it would start the tears up again.

                Tommy slowly walked up towards Eddie’s house, navigating like some weird stalker up the sidewalk and deposited the box outside the door to Eddie’s house. He snapped a quick picture of the box and Eddie’s door and hurried down the walkway, sending a picture of the box to Eddie with a quick message of “I can’t see him yet. The box is outside your door.”

                Tommy drove back to his place, hyperventilating a little bit over what could have happened. He needed to stay strong. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been a month since he ended things with Evan. Work kept him busy so that was beneficial for him. He could throw himself into work and forget everything. He did tend to avoid using the mouth static because it reminded him of Evan. His captain was probably very appreciative of that.

                Tommy had taken to using Tinder to see if he could get someone to date again. He did miss the companionship that Evan gave. Someone to hold at night. Problem was that he was trying to pick a fish from the sea that was Gay LA. The amount of people that just wanted to have sex with him far outweighed the people looking for a nice date.

                He did find the rare gentlemen not looking for a quick fuck which was nice. Tommy wasn’t ready to dip his toes back into THAT market just yet. Besides if he wanted that he would have been on Grindr, not Tinder. Men were just horndogs no matter where they were.

                Tommy swiped right on a handsome man that he saw and got the “Match” signal, so he started messaging this person. He was 5’6, fit, brown hair, blue eyes, worked as a nurse at one of the local hospitals. Tommy decided to go on a date with this guy. Have a nice dinner and a movie. That was his typical first date. Had it been that before Evan and will continue to be that after. He just needed to figure out a restaurant.

                The night of the date came, and Tommy met this new guy at the restaurant. His name was Bryant, and he was closer to Tommy’s age than Evan had been. He wouldn’t admit it in person, but he felt a little bad when he and Evan were together since there was such a large age gap.

                Bryant had chosen a nice Vietnamese restaurant to meet up at, and Tommy would be picking the movie. They ordered their dishes after sitting and waited. Tommy looked around the room a bit, taking in his surroundings. It was a nice place, he thought, and then a thought he didn’t want to have came up ‘Evan would really like this. He likes to try all kinds of new food.’

                He had to stop himself. He was drifting off into thinking of Evan and that wouldn’t have ended well. Bryant was talking and Tommy hadn’t heard a thing he said in his revelry. God he was the worst person to go on a date with right now. His thoughts constantly running back to Evan like some kind of sick masochist. No, he wouldn’t let that man keep such a vice grip on his heart. This was the best of the both of them.

***

                It had been 6 months since he had broken up with Evan. He had managed to match with about 10 very nice gentlemen in that time, and failed to go on a second date with about 6 of them. Why was he so bad at this? It was never this bad with Evan. Not even remotely. They always got along and always had things to talk about.

                Sitting down at the coffee shop, a handsome Latin man sitting across from him, Tommy sipped at his drink while half listening to the man talking about his life. He was interested, really he was. He just couldn’t make his mind focus. It kept going back to thoughts of Evan.

                The bell above the door rang as someone came in again. They were sitting near to the door, so Tommy had a bird’s eye view of the people walking in. And what he saw made his heart clench in his chest. Walking in through that doorway was Evan. He was there with a very beautiful blonde woman. God, he looked amazing still. Hopefully he didn’t see Tommy.

                Quickly looking away, Tommy hoped against all hope that Evan didn’t notice him. He didn’t want to create a scene or end things badly on this date. His date seemed to notice as he asked what was going on?

                “Ex-boyfriend just walked in,” Tommy replied. His breathing had slightly deepened after Evan walked into the shop, so he suggested that they take their drinks and go for a walk.

                He couldn’t be in the same room with Evan. It was too hard to see him. He did look happy though. Walking out of the coffee shop, his date heading out before him, he glanced back hoping, while also not hoping, to catch a glimpse of Evan again. Looking right at him, his blue eyes trying to hide a sadness that he could match was Evan. God how he missed that man. He turned back around and left the coffee shop, not wanting to feel the pain that his heart was currently feeling. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been three days since Tommy saw Evan at the coffee shop. Things had fizzled out again with the latest in a long line of dates he had gone on. Honestly, it was getting a little depressing for him. But he kept on trying. Maybe one day someone will click with him.

                His phone buzzed and he absently picked it up without looking to see who the message was from and opened it. His heart skipped a beat when he looked at it. It was from Evan and just said one word “Hey”.

                Tommy was freaking out a bit. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had taken a break and wanted Evan to experience his life now. He would have done the same had he been the first for a gay man. It wasn’t fair to tie someone down into a relationship if they hadn’t fully experienced life to its fullest.

                “Hey,” Tommy replied back, “Saw you at the coffee shop a few days ago. You look good”

                Tommy stared at the screen at the Typing bubble showed up on his phone. It was agonizing waiting to hear back. One minute. Two minutes. Was he writing the next great American novel over there?

                “It was nice to see you as well,” was the reply. Eight words? It took him that long to write eight words? The typing bubble showed up again, “Can we meet up? I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

                Tommy stared at his phone. Could he do this? It had been 6 months. Surely things had settled between them enough that they could have a cordial meet up right? “I could do that. Do you know a place?”

                “Let’s get pizza for old times sake,” Evan replied. Tommy felt his heart beat a little harder in his chest, “You know the place. Did you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”

                Tommy stared at the phone. While he would have loved to go there together, he knew that he couldn’t. Not easily anyways. 6 months they had been apart but every thought in his mind was about Evan. He had never had a relationship with anyone, quite like the one he had with Evan. There was something about it, “I can meet you there. 8 pm? Know a day?”

                “Can we meet tonight?” Tommy’s heart fluttered in his chest. Did he dare accept?

                While his brain was overthinking every situation that could come of this, his heart took control of his hands and he typed back, “That can work. I’ll see you there.”

                “See you there,” was the reply. Tommy put his phone down and let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. This could go so many ways. Picking up his phone again and looking at the time, Tommy had about 3 hours to get ready. The Pizza place that Buck wanted to go to wasn’t too far from where Tommy lived. Maybe a 30 minute drive. It gave him time to look his best. They may be broken up, but Tommy definitely didn’t want Evan to see him look a mess.

                He went about getting ready and he felt his heart fill with joy a little bit. He also started to have second thoughts on the breakup. Was this the best for the both of them?

***

                Tommy walked up to the entrance to the restaurant at just before 8 pm. He was trying not to hyperventilate about what was about to happen. He stopped at the door and stood for a second, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he walked in.

                He could see Evan sitting at a table off to the right of the entrance. Tommy had a little bit of a chuckle. His brain was not thinking in perfect thoughts right now, but he just loved the idea of him picking a table slightly to the right of centre when the last happy conversation they had was about the Kinsey Scale and how Tommy was a solid 6.

                He walked over and sat in the chair across from Evan, “Hey” he said. It was his general greeting for everyone.

                “Hey,” Evan looked up to him, a light of what looked like happiness hiding in his eyes, “Thank you for coming”

                “I didn’t have anything planned for tonight,” Tommy smiled but his eyes just kept taking in this man sitting in front of him. God he was beautiful, “Your text caught me by surprise though. Can’t say I was expecting it, but it was a nice surprise.”

                “Yeah, well when I saw you at the coffee shop, I knew I had to reach out,” Evan smiled and looked down at his hands, “It just took me 3 days to send that first message. I kept psyching myself out and telling myself not to and that you hated me and that you didn’t want to hear from me”

                “I could never hate you Ev…Buck,” Tommy quickly changed the name he called him. He had been thinking of his as Evan for so long that he had forgotten that friends call him Buck, “I was the one who broke it off with you. If anything, you should be hating me.”

                Tommy saw Evan deflate a bit when he changed the name he called him. But what was he supposed to do? They were broken up. And as much as Tommy wished it, they weren’t going to get back together. Tommy had messed that up already with what he said when they broke up. The best he could hope for is salvage and become friends and just watch from the outside and be supportive while Evan found someone new.

                “I could never hate you either Tommy,” He whispered. He was still looking down. Tommy reached across the table and gently put a couple fingers underneath Evans chin and lifted his head so they could look each other in the eye. Tommy was a little shocked to see the barest hint of what could only be tears in Evans eyes.

                Tommy coughed quickly, “Anyways should we order something? I want to hear all about your life since the last time we saw each other.”

                Tommy picked up his menu and used it to hide his face a bit. The tears and look of sadness on Evan’s face was going to get to him if he didn’t compose himself. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

                They eventually ordered a pizza to share and some drinks, “So the woman I saw you at the coffee shop was very pretty. Did things go well?”

                Evan was a little taken aback by that statement, “You think she’s pretty? I thought you were a 6 on the Kinsey Scale?”

                “Just because I can notice when someone is attractive doesn’t mean that I want to immediately have sex with them,” Tommy chuckled. That broke the downer mood that had been soaking the two of them since the moment he sat down. Evan chuckled as well, “Society has its standards of beauty in men, women, and anyone in between. These are drilled into us from an early age. You ask a straight man who the most attractive man to them is, and I can almost guarantee you that they will give you one of the Chrises or one of the Ryan’s”

                Evan smiled at that, “Chrises and Ryan’s?” This man was clueless sometimes. Tommy smiled at him. This man could find a substack about some 200 year old cowboy but he knew nothing about the Kinsey Scale or the Chrises and Ryans.

                “Well first you have the easy ones, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Chris Pratt. They have all been in Marvel movies, so everyone knows about them. Then you toss in Chris Pine, and you have the Chrises. Chris Pine is the odd one out as he hasn’t been in Marvel, and he has what some people call an Odd Attractiveness. The other Chrises are conventionally attractive,” Tommy took a sip of his drink before he continued, “Then you have the Ryan’s. Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling. Both very attractive men in their own rights and both very famous for various different reasons.”

                “I never thought of it that way,” Evan replied, “I always thought that just because you were straight or gay you didn’t really notice the other gender.”

                “Well, you have much to learn my Baby Bi,” Tommy chuckled, “You didn’t answer my question though. How did things go with the blonde at the coffee shop? Don’t think you can change the subject by claiming your naivety in things around the LGBT+ world.”

                Evan smiled and it melted Tommy’s heart, it was good to see him like this, “It went OK. We aren’t planning anything else though. Seeing you at the shop put me in a bit of a mood.”

                “I’m sorry about that,” Tommy replied, “She looked like she was your type. Well, I think. I don’t really know your type when it comes to women.”

                “I don’t really have a type when it comes to anyone really,” Evan explained, “I just find certain people attractive and decide then and there if I want to date them. She was pretty but not what I was looking for I guess.”

                “Well, that sucks,” Tommy replied, “I haven’t had much luck either. Nothing clicks I guess.”

                “Its hard to find something like what we had,” Evan replied. He sounded sad again. Tommy didn’t know how to make him happy again right now, so he just took a bite of his pizza on his plate.

                They ate in silence, Tommy sneaking glances at Evan, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He thinks he got caught at least once and quickly started looking off into the restaurant, trying to hide what he was doing. This was truly one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. He was a fool for letting this go.

                After they finished their pizza, it was time for dessert. Evan ordered a tiramisu, and Tommy ordered his usual Spumoni. What could he say, it was his favorite. And when you know you like something, you always go back to it.

                While Tommy was thinking to himself, he caught sight of a spoon reaching across the table and taking a piece out of his dessert, “Hey!”

                Evan smiled as he placed the frozen dessert into his mouth. Tommy smiled a little. Picking up his spoon, Tommy reached across and took a scoop of Evans dessert. He got an indignant little squeak from Evan over that as he raised it to his mouth, “All’s fair in love and war Evan.”

                Tommy watched as Evan’s smile grew wider as he heard his name spoken out loud. Tommy didn’t realize that it was going to happen. He smiled a bit before taking the bite of Buck’s dessert.

                They back and forth stole each other’s desserts until there was nothing left on the plate, and they were giggling like two school boys who had seen something naughty, “I miss this,” Evan said with a sigh, “I miss you.”

                Tommy stopped giggling and looked directly at Evan. Had he heard what he thought he heard?

                “I miss seeing you come home after work, covered in soot. I miss standing in the kitchen cooking us dinner, you coming up behind me just to hold me. I miss waking up in your arms,” Evan continued, “I miss us.”

                “Evan,” Tommy tried to get him to stop. This was hurting him too much, but Evan lifted up a hand.

                “Let me finish,” Evan continued to talk, “We came here to talk about life so let me finish and then you can have your say,” He put his hand down and took a breath, “Over the past 6 months I admit that I did try dating new people. Men, women, I think I went out with a non-binary person once as well. And each and every one of those ended the same. Me alone in my loft. They always ended up the same because of one thing. They weren’t you. None of them were you. It took me a while to fully understand what happened between us.

                Tommy stared at Evan as he spoke. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to stop them, but they just started to fall down his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted this. He just wanted to talk to Evan again. To be a part of his life again.

                “I realize now that I wanted the future with the idea I had of you. I wanted the idea I had of you move in with me in my Loft, which lets face it, was a ridiculous thing to say at the time,” Tommy noticed that Evan was essentially talking to his hands as they wrung a napkin in his hands, “And it took me talking to Maddie, Eddie, Josh, and basically everyone in the 118 to realize what I did to you. And to understand why you did what you did. You were scared. You were scared of being hurt and I understand that now. You didn’t want to be hurt so you hurt yourself and me in the process.”

                The tears were steadily going down Tommy’s cheeks at this point. He wasn’t a super emotional person. He worked in a life or death job. He saw people die all the time. He could compartmentalize everything. But right now, he was failing at that.

                “I tried to hate you at the start of it,” Evan still hadn’t looked up. Why wouldn’t he look at Tommy, “I tried really hard. But I couldn’t. You had just broken my heart, and I couldn’t hate you. It wasn’t until a month in when I was visiting Maddie at work, and the wise gay sage that is Josh was there and he gave me some words of wisdom, ‘You jumped ahead too far. You are currently seeing a future with who you think Tommy is. Not who Tommy actually is. And until you figure out which one you want to have a future with, you need to sit back and think about what it is you truly want. Do you want the idea of Tommy that you have? This unattainable statuesque Greek God of a man. Or do you want Tommy, the man who was engaged to a woman for 2 years, who had to survive the military at the height of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Tommy who is scarred beyond what you can see. And when you decide which, it is that you want, well the universe will bring you what you need.’ And then he just made a dramatic exit from the room.”

                Tommy chuckled a little while the tears kept flowing. He kept looking towards Evan, “Now I know that it was you who broke things off with me, in a not very classy fashion by the way,” Evan finally looked up from the napkin he had basically shredded into tiny pieces during his speech, “But I wanted to see if maybe, you wanted to try again? Try being together? It took me awhile to realize that I wanted the Tommy with all the scars that I never got a chance to learn about. The visible and invisible ones. You don’t need to answer right away. I can give you time to think about it. But I know that it is you that I want. You that I need in my life. You that I see a future with.”

                Tommy stood up, his eyes blurry at this point, walked around the table towards Evan, leaned down, placed his hand gently on Evan’s chin, and kissed him with as much love and passion as he could muster. He didn’t want this to stop. He couldn’t let this stop. Of course he wanted Evan back.

                The kiss ended and they were both breathless. The noise of the restaurant hadn’t died down so hopefully nobody was staring at their very obvious display, “Should I take that as a yes?” Evan was breathless and Tommy was as well. He nodded his head vigorously.

                Evan’s smile became the widest that Tommy had ever seen. He didn’t know how to take that. Evan grabbed him and pulled him in close, nuzzling his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, “We should probably pay the bill and go I guess,” Tommy said eventually, enjoying holding Evan again. It had been too long, and he missed the gentle breathing.

                Tommy reluctantly let Evan go so they could pay their bill and head out, “House or Loft?” Evan asked as they walked out the door.

                “Huh?” Tommy was confused.

                “House or loft? If you think I’m going to spend tonight alone, you have another thing coming. So will we spend the night at the house or loft?” Evan explained.

                Tommy smiled, realizing that this was all his again. This perfect man, with his substacks, his belief in curses and his random spirals into insanity. This was all his again. Walking towards his truck, Tommy smiled and said, “House,” before getting in, “Though we’ll need to stop by your loft to grab some items for you for the morning after.”

                Tommy watched as Evan smiled. That smile always made him melt. Before he had met Evan, he was reserved. He had slowly started to come out of his shell a bit. To be more of the man that Evan had seen he could be. He still had worked to do before he was that person. But with Evan by his side, maybe he could be that person. Maybe the idea of Tommy that Evan had in the past could be the Tommy he gets in the future. Only time would tell at least.

Sitting on the drivers side of his truck, Evan on the passengers side, Tommy shifted his truck into gear and backed out of his parking stall. He felt a hand over top of his on the gear shift and smiled. This. This was what was best for the both of them.

***

And that's the end of that. Thank you all for reading. I wrote this because S8xE06 really irked me so I wanted to fix it somehow. Let me know what you think.

[billys-pretty-babe]

Beauty and the Beast

Chapter 1

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Daniella Hopper (Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC)

Warnings : Swearing

Word count : 1572

A/N : If you'd like to be tagged please let me know <3

           Daniella sighed as she parked in the driveway of the cabin. She had been living in Indianapolis with her mother and stepfather for years, ever since her younger sister died from cancer. She wasn’t close with her father anymore, but she still wrote letters to him and talked to him on the phone once a week. She knew he was romantically involved with Joyce Byers, the same woman who was at her parents’ wedding smoking a cigarette with her deadbeat husband.

           Daniella saw the curtains move before two girls appeared in the window of the living room. One was a redhead and the other was a brunette. She raised a brow, there was no way her dad had more kids so why were there two seemingly teenage girls in his living room? The front door opened after the curtains moved back to their original spot and Jim Hopper, Daniella’s father walked out of the cabin, his lips curled up in a smile around his cigarette.

           Daniella was a daddy’s girl when she was younger and she felt the hole in her heart start to mend seeing her father in the flesh, instead of just hearing his voice through the staticky phone that her mother had gifted her a few years back. Jim walked down the few steps and she unlocked her car doors, getting out of the car. He smiled and put his arms out and she smiled and hugged him. She felt the little girl in her peeking out in the arms of her father who she missed dearly. She understood why she wasn’t able to live with him, his addiction picked up after Sara died and he wasn’t fit to be a parent while he grieved.

           “Hi baby,” he murmured against her dark brown hair. She smiled and looked up at him, she was a near spitting image of her father, the same blue eyes and the same brown hair. “Hi dad.” Jim smiled and kissed the top of her head again. “Let’s get you settled in the house, I cleaned out your room.” She nodded and popped the trunk of her car and he grabbed a few bags, putting them on her suitcases so she wouldn’t have to carry much.

           “Dad, I got it.” He waved her off, puffing on his cigarette as he walked into the house. She grabbed her last remaining bags and followed him into the cabin. She passed the two girls as they watched her and she followed him to the back of the cabin where her childhood room was, right across from Sara’s room. Jim turned the lights on, her music box was on an upgraded vanity and the bed was a lot larger than she remembered.

           “I upgraded the room, you’re eighteen now. I didn’t think you’d want princesses and pink everywhere. I kept a lot of the stuff in storage just in case you do want it.” Daniella nodded and Jim idled by the door. “I missed you Dani, I did.” Her heart stuttered at the nickname, no one had called her that since Sara passed. “I missed you too, dad.” Jim smiled and looked at his watch. “I’ll let you unpack and get settled and then we can go get something to eat.” Daniella nodded and he shut the door.

           She began unpacking, putting her clothes in the closet and the white dressers that held a tv and the antenna was set up under her blinds. It wasn’t long before everything was unpacked and she put on different clothes so she could relax after dinner. She left the bedroom and walked into the familiar living room where a portrait of her, Sara, her mother and father was on display on the wall as well as other pictures from her childhood.

           Jim was in his recliner, watching whatever was on the tv as the two girls were in the guest bedroom on the floor. “Who are they?” He flinched, not expecting to hear her voice and she laughed softly. He looked in the room, “El, come here.” The girl with brown hair walked out of the room and stood close to him as she looked at Daniella. “El, this is Daniella, but we call her Dani. She’s, my daughter.” El’s brow furrowed before pointing to herself, “I’m your daughter.” Jim nodded, “But so is she, she’s my oldest. Dani, that’s El, it’s a long story and I’ll explain it soon.” Daniella nodded, waving at the younger girl.

           “Max,” El said, beckoning the red-haired girl. The girl walked into the living room, waving at Daniella, “Finally an older girl to hang out with.” Jim raised a brow, “Your brother looks like a girl from the side.” Max rolled her eyes, “I’m not willingly hanging out with Billy.” Jim snickered against the can of Cola in his hand. “I have a brother, around your age I think. How old are you?” Daniella looked at Max, who wasn’t much shorter than she was. “I just turned eighteen.”

           Max nodded, “So did he, in March. His name’s William.” El raised a brow, “I thought it was Billy.” Max looked at her and nodded, “It is, just like mine is Maxine but I go by Max. His is William but he goes by Billy.” El nodded, still obviously confused as to how you get Billy from William. “You should meet him,” El said, almost dreamily. Jim scoffed, “No, hell no. She will not be meeting that delinquent, no offence to your brother, Max.” Max waved him off, “Not my brother, technically, just legally.” Jim nodded and looked at Daniella, “Ready to go get dinner?” She nodded and he let the recliner down. “Max, I can drop you off unless someone’s coming to get you.” She nodded, “My mom and Neil are out of town I think and who knows what that douchebag is doing.” Jim nodded and grabbed the keys to the Chief car he rode around in and Daniella grabbed her car keys.

           All three girls walked out of the house and Jim locked the front door and El and Max got into the back of the car and Daniella got into her car and got into the street and let her dad lead the way to Max’s house. It took nearly fifteen minutes for them to arrive in front of a white house. A blue car was in the driveway as the lights on it turned off, like the driver had just gotten back. The driver door opened, a guy getting out of the car. He had blonde curls that were put into a bun at the nape of his neck. He wore jeans and a white tank top as he held a red bag. Max got out of the back of Jim’s car and the guy looked over, his eye-catching Daniella’s as he smirked, lifting his hand to wave to her before Jim honked and called out of his window, “Don’t even try it, Hargrove! She’s off limits for you!”

           The guy put his thumb up before opening the front door, Max barely getting inside before the front door shut. Jim drove to a fast-food joint, the three of them walking inside and ordering their food as Daniella sipped on her Coca Cola, something she grew up with. “You’re quiet.” She looked at El and nodded, “Just tired.” The girl nodded, her brown eyes looking into hers.

           “Sleepover?” Daniella cocked her head a little, “Huh?” El huffed, pointing between them, “Sleepover.” Daniella squinted a little, “I live with you guys for a few months before I go back home.” El hummed and nodded, sipping on whatever she had poured into her cup while Jim was paying for the food. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Daniella nodded; she had a boyfriend back home in Indianapolis. He wasn’t the best, but she loved him, or at least she thought she did.

           “I do too,” El said happily, happy to have something in common with her older ‘sister’. “His name’s Mike.” Daniella nodded and looked at Jim who seemed more than displeased at the name that was spoken. It wasn’t long before their number was called and Jim grabbed the food and El had asked to ride back with Daniella. “She’s probably tired, El. She might want to drive by herself.” Daniella shook her head, “It’s fine, dad.” Jim nodded and El got into the passenger seat as she talked to Daniella, talking her ear off for fifteen minutes straight.

           It felt like hours has passed when she got back to the house and dinner was already eaten as they all sat around. She began to space out, thinking back to Max’s house, thinking about the guy, who she assumed was Max’s brother that was mentioned. His eyes were captivating, from what she saw of them. “You okay, Dani?” She looked at her dad and nodded, “Just tired, I’m probably gonna go to bed.” Jim nodded as he looked at El who had fallen asleep on the floor.

           He groaned and picked her up, taking her into the guest bedroom that looked like he had transformed it into a regular bedroom. Daniella threw away her trash before grabbing a glass of water. “Goodnight dad.” Jim smiled, “Goodnight Dani.” She walked down the hallway, into her bedroom and she shut the door behind her. She laid down and she looked outside, watching the stars before she fell asleep.

taglist : @joeyfilth

[cryptid-killjoy]

"That would be a yes."

Though he wasn't admitting how challenging this conversation had been for him right then. He just kept smiling.

While he stepped out though and was clearing the truck he was also clearing his mind of that impromtu conversation he hadn't quite been ready for himself. It felt seriously good that it happened after such a solemn evening and burdensome trip. It felt like a pick-me-up to perk him back into shape before heading out again.

When Elsa finally came out she was he looked up as he pushed down the last bit of trash into an outside bin.

"Thanks. It might still smell like left over fries in here though." He laughed. Oops on not getting those out sooner. He reached for his glove box and opened up a new tree shaped air freshener and opened his window just in case. He'd air it out a minute. Maybe it was just his bear nose? He was never sure. Some smells didn't seem to effect others the way it did him.

"Okay. All set then." He climbed in the driver's seat and gave her another smile, that he couldn't help but think about the conversation they just had smile.

"Guess we can head out."

He had that awkward pause of yup, that's what we're doing now. I got this. He couldn't help it. He'd never attempted to express feelings like that before, not anyone who seemed recipricating. He had to tell his brain to stop it and move on.

Once he got the truck in gear and pulled out he started to feel a lot more normal. He just needed to get in motion again. He reached for the radio. He almost couldn't remember where he was going. That was because it was no place in particular. He wanted to cruise the rez.

"I just want to loop around the old neighborhood first. Feel like I'm actually here." He explained. They'd come straight through town one mission for the burial and it didn't allow for much sight seeing. He was so stuck on the grief of his mothers he didn't get to enjoy any nostalgia of his childhood.

So, that's how it would start once they got away from the vampire's home. Koda would put his window down all the way and hang his arm out and start grinning when memories would hit. He'd point with his arm hung out. "There. Right there. See that house." He'd say. "That's where we'd all go play freezetag in the back yard. We always hung out at that kid's house because they had a basketball pole in their driveway."

The pole wouldn't have a net and the metal would be a tad rusty, but it brightened his face. "I remember it having a net though." Everything aged.

He drove around to a playground. He pulled alongside it and parked just to watch the kids play. It was more weathered than he remembered too. "I can't believe that merry-go-round is still there. Wow. We called it the wheel of death. We could never get it to stop." He laughed. "That was always the best part though. We'd always try to make it stop, dig our heels in the dirt, and it was an unstoppable force. It'd drag us kids on the outside right along with it. It was a death wheel."

He kept shaking his head. "Denahi always tried to make sure I had a kid life when I came to visit." He admitted. "Thought my mother was too strict with all the disciplines she trained me in." He just shirked because he loved them both. "Best of both worlds in the end, I guess. But it was sort of like that. Coming here. Like a mini-vacation to be a kid for a little while. Goof off. I just... didn't get to come very often." Another admittance. "Not till I got a little older."

Then from the truck he'd stick his arm way out of the window to the trees. "See back there? Way back there where it looks like you shouldn't go?"

A smirk.

"That's where we all hung out."

His voice amped up as his memories got more vivid and happier. "See now, if you go back there passed the trees, there's a creek. You follow the creek far enough there's these old drain pipes of some kind. We'd hide out and have our, I don't know, whatever secret kid meetings I guess. It was like our private lair except really anyone could have found it. But nobody goes back there, so it felt like our little world.

"Then if you go off trail at just the right tree there's a clearing. That's where the rope swing was. Anyone who was cool, right? They came to this rope swing to prove themselves. Nothing but bastard double dog daring dare devil little shits. That's all we were bullying each other into dangerous situations for a thrill."

"Then if you go off past the other direction if you follow inside the pipes there are two free range open half pipes in the natural earth out the other side. Not the manmade kind, you feel me? The discovered kind and taken over kind. Kicking with our boards back there where it felt like no parents could find us was life."

His knee was bouncing deciding whether he wanted to get out and go have a closer look or drive on to more nostalgia. He hadn't been there since he was a kid.

It got harder for Elsa to speak while Koda was just smiling at her like that. How did this happen, she thought to herself. She used to be immune to things like this. To the smiles from handsome men. It wasn’t as if Flotsam and Koda were the only two that ever pursued her. She just rarely gave anyone a chance to get on a closer level than a friendly nod if they saw each other in public. But here she was, feeling like her sister Anna used to, whenever she used to fall in love at first sight.

She rolled her eyes, almost in a playful type of matter. “Of course you did. You enjoy challenging me, don’t you?”

Because talking about her feelings was challenging. Especially when she hadn’t been planning on having this type of conversation, and hadn’t gone over and over in her head what she wanted to say. It would still have been genuine but - it would have been a lot better thought out than how this was going right now. Oh, she wanted to kiss that almost-smug, pleased smile off of his face right this second, just to make herself feel better. The corners of her mouth were twitching with slight embarrassment.

So that was that. It was all out in the open now, and she couldn’t breathe back in the words that she had said, even if she wanted to. Her mind was already thinking along the lines of she wished she could have just written this in a letter so she wouldn’t feel the heat in her cheeks combining with the cold of her body, giving her a deer-in-the-headlights type of feeling.

There was relief in the breath that she let out when he spoke again. Put a pin in it. That sounded like the grand idea. Give her time to think about what she wanted to say, to articulate it properly. She probably would write it in a letter, on nice stationary, though no doubt Koda would probably try to get her to read it out loud, say all of the potentially gushy things.

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea," She nodded, getting her dignity back, straightening up her spine so that her head was held tall as she looked back over at Koda. That damn grin. The hints of it still at the corner of his mouth while he talked. “I’ll see you in a few moments.”

Once he left, she bent down over one of the chairs, her hands on the table as she tried to collect herself. It felt like a release somehow. The way that crying sometimes did, not that she did that very often either. She and Koda were in very good standing. They both really liked each other, even though there was still no name on any of this. And he was going to keep showing her parts of his life, being open with her.

And she had started in doing the same, opening up about when she had to speak at her own parents funeral. But he was going above and beyond that by having her here. It made her give thought to what she could do in return, to open up to him further as well, as nerve-wracking as that was.

She helped herself to a light breakfast, just what was around the house, making a mental note of what she took so that she could either pay for it later or replace it. She respected the house and Koda’s uncle, and did not want to be in debt to them for anything. Then, after making sure she was ready, and had given Koda ample time, she walked out into the sunshine that the vampires could not, to see the process that he had made on the truck.

“Much better,” She admired approvingly, seeing the filled trash bag and recycle bin and that the inside of the truck had been cleared out.

[vvitchy-succubus]

.

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

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

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[submattenthusiast]

caught

summary - catching matt humping his pillow

pairings; sub!matt x soft-dom! reader (no use of y/n)

contents; smut; male masturbation; mommy kink; etc.

notes- thank y'all for the love on my work, i heart each and every one of you so bad. enjoy!

you didn’t necessarily have a rule against matt touching when you’re not with him, no but he recently figured out he couldn’t cum without you.

he tried so hard to cum, he felt like his dick was going to fall off with how many times he’s jerked himself off, trying to reach that high point. he feels pathetic, absolutely fucking pathetic, he can’t cum without the soothing praises that you whisper, the soft pet names you call him, he needs it, he needs you. 

matt begged you not to leave the house this morning, claiming that the errands could wait and that spending time with him was more important. you reassured him that you would only be a few hours and that he could be the passenger princess if he wanted. 

upon his refusal you headed out, kissing his pouty lips goodbye. 

matt tried to keep himself busy, watching tiktok, youtube, eating, and playing video games– which satisfied him for a split second until he was bored again. he had never felt so clingy in his life, not clingy enough to call or text you though. he had stalked your location just about a thousand times after you left. you were still at the store, not on your way home, not in the driveway.

matt slid down in his gaming chair, you still weren’t home yet and it had been hours. he was pouting, he just wanted to be with you. his mind began to wander, thinking about you, how pretty you were, how much he loved you, how your hands felt wrapped around his cock.

sinful thoughts began to cloud his head, he was practically drooling at memories of your intimate moments. matt winced at the tent growing in his jeans, cock rubbing against his boxers, beginning to feel tight. he closed his eyes, a soft exhale coming from his mouth as he reached down to palm himself.

this was so wrong, is what he kept kelling himself but it felt too good, and you were still nowhere to be found so why not? 

his pleasure was short lasting as lust took over his body, he craved more. his hand was no longer enough for him. he opened his eyes with a groan, agitated that he still couldn’t satisfy himself.

his blue eyes roam around the room, looking for something to satisfy his hunger until they landed on the pillows on his bed, specifically the pillow you sleep on. matt chewed on the skin of his lips, he felt dirty for even considering humping the very pillow you sleep on at night, but it smelt like you and your scent drives him insane.

insane enough to hump this pillow for some relief.

matt sauntered over towards your side of the bed, reaching for your pillow, catching a whiff of your natural scent. he let out a whine before positioning it properly. he nervously sat next to the pillow, he’s never done anything like this before, he was feeling awkward. he adjusted his cock in his jeans, they were getting unbearably tight. that was the final push he needed.

he was driven to please himself that he forgot to check your location, to make sure you wouldn’t catch him in such a vulnerable position. you had stopped for gas quickly before heading home.

matt was kneeling on the bed now, plush pillow brushing against his crotch. he started easy, not wanting to cum so quickly, he was flustered enough by his actions. he wanted to draw this out  as long as possible, so he kept his jeans on, gaining as much friction as possible.

faint moans and whimpers bounced off the walls of the room, the wood of his headboard squeaked as he moved his hips frantically against the pillow.

the sound of the garage rang throughout the house, you were finally home. matt was blissfully unaware of your presence.

“matt?” you called out, and was met with silence. it was creepy, not to mention all the lights were out. the only time the house was quiet like this was when you both were asleep. you shrugged it off and stepped out of your shoes and made your way upstairs. 

his name was on the tip of your tongue until you heard them, the sound of moans and whines coming from your shared bedroom. you stopped on the top of the stairs, unsure of what to think, mind going to the worst case scenario.

you tiptoed to the door, calmly twisting the knob. you were met with a mouthwatering sight, matt grinding hungrily into one of his various pillows, mouth ajar, pleas of desperation falling out. his hair was a mess, shirt pulled up just enough to show his happy trail, jeans unbuckled but not fully off.

you were about to make your presence known until a particularly loud moan came from him. “fuck mommy it hurts please” he moaned. he paused his thrusts momentarily to shuffle his jeans down to his ankles, not bothering to remove them fully. 

he froze as he saw the door open, he swore it was closed before. he stood in his boxers unable to move as he turned his head to the door. you stood in the door frame, smile on your face as you greeted him “hi honey, missed me?”. his face burned red, he can’t believe you caught him with his pants down, literally. you treaded into the room, shutting the door behind you. 

“i-i can explain–” he stuttered out “just missed you so much and i got horny-” he babbled. “are you close?” you questioned, debating on what to do with the boy. “y-yes are you mad– i’ll stop” he anxiously spoke, breaking eye contact. 

you stepped further into the room, walking towards the opposite side of the bed. matt’s curious eyes followed you, watching your every move. you perched up against the headboard, as if you were going to watch tv. you patted the spot where he previously was, he was still frozen, hesitant to move. 

“you’re going to cum from humping that pillow sweetheart, then if you’re good i’ll take care of you” you explained to the boy who was visibly confused. “y-yes mommy i’ll be your good boy i promise” he said while climbing back onto the bed. 

matt leaned down into the bed as he gained his rhythm back, hips thrusting into the pillow hurridly. “there you go, just like that” you praised, your thighs clenched together as you watched him, fucking into the bed like he does you.

his cock spasmed in his briefs and the coil in his stomach threatened to snap. “mommy close fuck– please need to cum” matt sobbed. his hips never slowed, chasing the orgasm that he’s been craving for hours. 

“ah please mama i can’t hold it please fuck” he pleaded. “cum for mama” you hummed.

his eyes rolled back into his head as he came, his hips stuttered and his jaw went slack. high pitched moans decorated the room.

white stripes of cum filled his boxers, leaking out from the side. he rode out his high, exhausted from all the effort he put in.

“thank you mommy fuck i needed that” he sighed,flopping onto the bed next to you. you giggled at his silly motions, before caressing his hair.

“you did all the work sweet boy, i’m proud of you” you warmly said. matt blushed at your words.  “but now mommy needs help too” you whined. matt jumped up “i can help, i’ll do whatever, please let me make you feel good” he begged. “whatever?, gonna fuck me like that pillow?” you teased, working him up again.

notes - this is really bad but i wanted to put something out. not proofread

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll @zariyam @bellassturniolo @thepubeburgler @gwennybenny @matts-myloverboy

[l0vely-sturniolo]

VIDEO GAME CUDDLES

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you had a long day at work and just want a hug from chris, and end up cuddling w him while he’s playing fortnite.

——————————————————————————

i pulled into my boyfriends driveway, after having a long day at work. it was honestly just such a long, hard, bad day, and all i wanted at this given moment was a hug from chris. i grabbed my stuff, getting out of the car, making my way to the door and inside.

i made my way upstairs to be met with no one in the kitchen or the living room, which told me everyone was in their rooms for the night.

i walked over to the fridge, grabbing a water, before making my way downstairs to chris' door. before i opened his door i heard him talking. "matt come on dude i just died!" he said, which told me he was playing fortnite with matt and nick.

i opened the door, quietly walking in and he looked over at me and smiled. "hi baby," "hi," i gave him a small smile, before grabbing clothes and going into his bathroom to change.

i changed, walking out of his bathroom, and i saw him mute his mic, before looking at me again. "what's wrong?" he asked. "i'm okay," i said softly. "baby, talk to me.." he said. "i've just had a really long day, that's all.." i said. "do you need anything? i can get off-" i cut him off "no, it's okay," i smiled, before climbing into his bed, getting on my phone.

"okay.." i could tell he was hesitant, but unmuted his mic and started playing again. "shut up nick, she was upset i had to make sure my girl was okay," i heard him say.

after a little while, i put my phone down, trying to go to sleep, but i couldn't. no matter how i laid, what i did, i couldn't sleep, and it was started to make me upset. i felt tears forming as i got up, walking over to chris, wiping my eyes before i looked at him.

"what's wrong baby?" he frowned, looking at me, and i just climbed into his lap, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back. "you okay?" he whispered, kissing my temple, and i shook my head.

"i need a hug," i mumbled into the crook of his neck, and he held onto me tighter. "i got you, sweet girl," he said. "i love you," he whispered. "i love you," i shoved my face further into his neck, closing my eyes. "i had such a bad day, just wanted a hug from you," i mumbled.

"you should've told me baby, i would've gotten off," he said, rubbing my back again. "it's okay, this is okay, i'm good like this," i said, closing my eyes again. he kept playing, giving me little kisses and tight squeezes whenever he could, and i fell asleep on his shoulder.

i woke up to him moving around, and i lifted my head up. "no no no, go back to sleep baby, i'm gonna bring you to bed," he whispered, and i laid back on his shoulder as he stood up, bringing me over to his bed, laying me down carefully. "c'mere," i mumbled, as i snuggled myself into his pillows and blankets.

"i'm coming," he laughed a little, before getting into bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer. "goodnight princess, i love you," he whispered, kissing my head. "i love you," i mumbled, putting my face back into the crook of his neck, falling back asleep almost immediately.

——————————————————————————

tags:

@stayingstromboli

[malfoys-demigod]

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside”

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: Just a quick fluff drabble where the reader’s out admiring the morning snow, but also at the same time not wanting to admit she’s cold and of need of a jacket

A/N: Hi all!! It has been a while since I wrote. Life has been so hectic for me, but ever since I watched Deadpool and Wolverine recently, the love I have for X-men came back and I really loved seeing tons of Wolverine fics pop up!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

There was always something magical about the first morning snow at the X Mansion that made Y/N feel like the happiest girl in the world.

There was that feeling of serenity and calm that comes from snowy environments which she loved feeling every winter. It would prompt nostalgic memories: childhood fun, holidays spent yearning for a white Christmas - it just made her happy.

So when the first snow arrived early in the morning, Y/N got up as fast as she could, slipping on her favorite winter boots as she made a dash out to the entrance of the X Mansion, only wearing her long-sleeved pajama top and jogging pants.

There it was.

A fresh blanket of snow, covering the whole landscape of the area, as more snow fell down gracefully from the sky. Y/N was enjoying the sound of silence - watching the snow flutter down like magical confetti, which felt so healing to her.

She watched as the trees were heavy with snow on its tips, smelling damp pine cones from a distance. She never felt so happy.

That was until she took a few steps outward from the driveway with her last step causing her to take a small slip into a soft blanket of snow. She was now laying on wet snow, laughing her ass off from being so reckless out of nowhere all alone. The gleaming snow around her was what made her choose to stay grounded on the floor, expanding her arms and legs as they made snow angel movements.

It was only a matter of time for Y/N to start experiencing the frost bitten feeling around her body, numbing her as she continued staying out in the snow without proper protecting from being frozen. Yet.. she didn’t exactly have plans on going back in to wear protective gear just yet.

Meanwhile back inside the X Mansion, Logan had just woken up from a surprisingly good sleep. He didn’t have any nightmares to fight off this time. He actually woke up peacefully.

He got up, wore his regular leather jacket, fixed himself up quickly, and took a look at his window, seeing white, as he discovered the first snow of the season.

What he then noticed after was Y/N, lying down on the carpet of snow, with a smile on her face. Logan swore he almost felt a smile on himself growing too fast for his liking. He always kept his relationship with Y/N to a friendly-teasing kind of thing going on, but deep down, he always wanted to see if he could have more than that with his colleague.

His face definitely returned to his typical serious form, as he took a closer look at Y/N… with tingling cold finger tips, shivering slightly. He wondered why she wasn’t returning yet inside to warm up, and a level of concern grew in him, picturing her as a poor, frost bitten kitten, who needed help.

He turned around and made his way outside at full speed.

The heavy crunches of the snow under Logan’s feet as he stomped towards her caused Y/N to sit up and turn around.

Logan huffed at the sight of his kitten, looking bitterly cold now as her arms were crossed tightly. “Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

She smiled childishly with pink spots on her cheeks, which Logan discretely found lovable. “Um, enjoying the first snow?”

Logan had a displeased look on his face, definitely due to her reply. “No shit, but ever thought of doing it with extra layers on? You’re gonna freeze yourself to death, bub. You don’t want the kids to wake up on the first day of snow and see their teacher frozen over, do ya?”

Y/N was too amused with the silly, impossible idea of turning into an iced sculpture to even notice the worried look Logan had on his face. “Oh come on, Lo,” she brushed it off, “I’m fine. A little cold won’t hurt me.”

Logan was about to protest until Y/N brought out a small sneeze. She pointed at him her best straight-face, wanting to speak up first after her ‘A little cold won’t hurt me’ statement.

“Shut up, Logan,” she commanded, “That was nothing. I’m fine.”

The secretly smitten man, rolled his eyes, not buying a single thing she said. “Alright, here we go” he said, pulling her up for her to stand on her feet as she whined, “Hey!”

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside.” He pleaded after she complained with her frowns.

“But I really just wanted to stay a few minutes longer then I’ll go back in,” she admitted, giving her best ‘Puss-in-Boots adorable eyes’ that made Logan want to fold so damn easily. But he shook his head, removing his favorite leather jacket, that he would never just give to anyone. Her few minutes were definitely not few minutes and he knew that.

“Take it and wear it,” he surrendered.

Y/N lightly gasped, knowing very well that Logan and his leather jacket were famously inseparable. She was too flustered to say anything at the moment, so she took the jacket from him, mumbled a thank you, and started wearing it.

Logan had definitely taken a liking to what he was seeing. She looked so good in his jacket and he was captivated by how adorable she looked, with the jacket looking slightly oversized on her.

Y/N felt her heartbeat move faster when she taken a notice at Logan’s fitted black shirt, outlining the muscles that attracted her since the first day they met. She looked away, looking down at her shoes, hoping her cheeks weren’t pinker than they were earlier.

“You wanna join me for those last few minutes?” She asked teasingly with a small smile on her face. How could he say no to her?

He ‘nonchalantly’ huffed a ‘kay and sat down with her on the ground. She shifted a little closer to him, her head leaning on his shoulder. While her eyes were focused on the snow in front of her falling from a distance, his eyes were on her, wanting to make sure he saw her reaction to when the shoulder she was leaning on moved up, as Logan started wrapping his arm on her, getting them closer than how they were just a second ago.

Logan smirked to himself, seeing how red-faced Y/N was now, still focusing her attention on the snow, as she was avoiding eye contact with Logan, who was now hoping they spend more than a few minutes cozying up together before heading back in.

Maybe after that, he could treat her to hot chocolate, because of course, it was cold and he without a doubt thinks it’s the only nice thing to do afterwards…! *wink*

@snackthatsmilesbackchlldren @iluvloganhowlett (shoutout to you and your amazing fic so far! love seeing your works!)

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:

Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His

[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.

The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.

You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.

However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.

Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.

"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"

Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.

"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.

Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.

Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.

You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.

You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.

"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.

"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."

"B-but..."

Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.

You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.

Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.

Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.

"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."

A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.

"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"

Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.

To be continued...

[bueckers]

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWGIRL ━━━ paige bueckers

synopsis: you and paige sneak away during her family’s barbecue for the fourth. ✶

pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader

notes: literally have been slacking on every other fic and this is the one thing i jumped to write and finish… talk about matching each other’s freak is all i’ll say. i’m just here to feed families.

The smell of grilled hot dogs and the sizzle of sparklers in the distance should be enough to keep you in the moment, but your nerves are working overtime. Paige insisted that it wouldn’t be a big deal, that meeting her dad’s side of the family was just another stepping stone in your relationship. But as the two of you step out of the car and make your way up the driveway to the family home, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking into something monumental.

It’s not the first time you’ve questioned what you’re doing with Paige. Not because you doubt her feelings—those have been clear since the night she first kissed you, all intensity and softness in equal measure. But because it still feels surreal, like the basketball star who seems untouchable to so many chose you. And just maybe she sees you as untouchable too.

The door opens before you can knock, revealing her father with an easy smile that mirrors Paige’s, and you relax—just a little. He greets you warmly, and you can’t help but notice the pride in his eyes when he introduces you to the rest of the family. Paige lingered, and it was a good feeling in one way.

There’s a moment where you’re being passed around like a prized artifact, a flurry of names and faces that blur together as you turn every corner with Paige. Maybe it was the way her dad’s side of the family welcomed you with open arms, or the way Paige kept you close, her hand on the small of your back or intertwined with yours, always making sure you were comfortable. Or maybe it was the seltzers—crisp, cold, and just the right amount of boozy—that had helped you loosen up.

“This is my girlfriend.”

It’s the first time she’s introduced you that way today, and the words hang in the air between you… a good feeling. The Bueckers family seems to take it in stride, with warm smiles and a few teasing remarks, but all you can focus on is the way it ignites something in you—a mix of something good and a sudden, overwhelming desire to make sure everyone knows just how mutual this feeling is.

Paige had introduced you to what felt like every relative under the sun, but now, a few drinks in, you were both in that sweet spot where the drink had taken the edge off, and everything felt a little lighter, a little more fun.

She pulls you away from the crowd, leading you hurriedly around a few corners and to her room. The sounds of the celebration are muted, and you begin to let out a fit of giggles. You weren’t even entirely sure what was funny, but Paige made you feel giddy.

“Why are we in here?” you asked, turning around to face the door she had previously shut. Despite this, the blonde pulled you into her, the both of you now chest to chest as she peppered kisses down your neck.

“There’s a meetin—meeting in my bedroom. You ain’t hear?”

You sighed out, reeling it all in before you realized that you had her entire family to accompany, and she wanted to meet with you. “P!” you whined, attempting to wiggle out of her grasp and failing miserably.

Paige’s smirk widened, and she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours. “What do they say? Save a horse, ride a cowgirl?”

You felt a rush of heat flood through you at her words, your body responding to the suggestive tone in her voice. Before you could fully process what she’d said, Paige was leading you both to the bed, herself falling before you as she held onto the tips of your fingers. “C’mon,” she mumbled, and it somehow sounded so sinful.

You took a moment to just look at her, her bright eyes darkened with desire, her lips parted slightly as she watched you with a hungry intensity that made your knees weak. “Only ‘cause you make one hell of a cowgirl,” you retorted, only half-serious.

Paige smiled, prepared to drag you down next to her before you stopped her. You smirked a little, your fingers trailing to the elastic of the cowboy hat she was still hearing. You pulled it until it snapped against her chin, the movement dirty and teasing and all a tipsy Paige could ever want.

She let out a low chuckle. “Careful,” was all she said.

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk widening as you reached up to take the hat off of her, placing it on your own head. The light weight of it settled over your hair, and you tilted it down over one eye, giving Paige your best attempt at a sultry look. “Or what?” you shot back, your voice a little breathless with anticipation.

Paige’s gaze swept over you, her series of different smiles turning into something curious and willing. She leaned back, all the pressure in the palms of her hands as her tongue swarmed her mouth in amusement. She nodded her head, as if she were challenging you so you could see what would happen.

Sure, it was a relatively bad idea in the moment with Paige’s family roaming in the same exact house, and you had really planned on saying no, but— well…

You took a step back, feeling a rush of everything nice as you put some distance between you and the bed. Paige’s eyes followed your every movement, her hands curling into the comforter as she watched you. You reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head and letting it drop to the floor, the air cool against your heated skin.

You could hear Paige’s breath hitch, her eyes glued to you as you turned around, giving her a teasing view of your back as you unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms and letting the garment fall away. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way her jaw tightened and her lips parted just enough.

With a giggle, you wiggled your hips, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs in one smooth motion before stepping out of them. You gave your ass a little shake, sliding your pointer finger into your mouth as if it were a lollipop. If there was one thing you’d caught onto while being with Paige, it was that she loved when you were completely naked. You didn’t miss the way her hands tightened against the bed, her knuckles white as she held herself back from reaching out for you.

Her eyes raked over your body, a hunger evident in her gaze that made your pulse quicken. You couldn’t help but smile, a wicked glint in your eyes as you took in the sight of her, lying there with her abs tensing beneath her shirt, her breaths coming a little faster as she watched you.

“Paige, baby…” you purred, your voice low and teasing as you crawled onto the bed, making sure to brush your body against hers as you moved. Her breath got caught in her throat, and you could see the way she fought to maintain control. Just give in.

Without another word, you settled between her legs, your hands trailing up her thighs as you pressed a soft kiss to her inner knee. Paige’s muscles twitched under your touch, her lips parting as she let out a breathy moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to keep herself together.

You weren’t about to let that happen.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to her core, teasing her through the thin fabric of her shorts. Paige’s hips jerked at the sensation, her hands fisting in the sheets as she let out a low, desperate sound that sent a thrill through you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” Paige mumbled, her voice rough as she lifted her hips, urging you to take things further.

You smiled against her, enjoying the way she was starting to unravel beneath you. Slowly, you tugged her shorts down, your fingers brushing against her heated skin as you bared her to your gaze. You could feel the tension in her body, and it wasn’t the type of tension you’d get from a basketball practice.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her hands clutching the sheets as she waited for you to make your move. And when you finally did, pressing your tongue against her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke, her response was immediate and intense.

“Oh, fuck,” Paige gasped, her hips bucking up into your mouth as you lavished attention on her, your tongue moving in slow, teasing circles that had her panting for breath. You could feel the way her thighs quivered on either side of your head, her body reacting to every little movement, every flick of your tongue.

You didn’t let up, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady as you increased the pace, your mouth working her over with a skill that had her moaning your name, her voice raw and desperate. The taste of her on your tongue was intoxicating, the sounds she made even more so, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the sensation, your own arousal building as you felt her getting closer and closer to the edge.

Paige’s hands flew to your hair, it being a bit messy from the hat that had now hung around your neck, her fingers tangling in the strands as she held you to her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the brink of release. “Right there,” she panted, her voice strained as she fought to keep herself together, her body trembling with the effort. “Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.”

It didn’t take long. With a final, desperate cry, Paige shattered, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her, her hips bucking as she rode out the overwhelming sense of pleasure. You stayed with her through it all, your mouth never leaving her as you drew out every last bit of her release, savoring the way she fell apart beneath you.

As Paige’s body slowly relaxed, she took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was still uneven. You watched her with a satisfied smile, your own breathing a little ragged as you leaned on one arm, taking in the sight of her in her post-orgasmic bliss.

But Paige wasn’t done with you yet. She never was, and she would never let you win.

With a determined look, she slowly lifted herself up, and you watched, your breath catching in your throat as her fingers moved to the hem of her shirt. She paused for a moment, her eyes locking with yours over her shoulder before she slowly, deliberately peeled the fabric off her body, revealing the toned expanse of her back, and you knew you’d be a puddle if you would’ve saw her torso first.

Her muscles flexed and rippled beneath her skin as she discarded the shirt, and your mouth went absolutely dry. Paige’s back muscles were a sight to behold, the definition in her shoulders and the way her arms looked so strong and capable left you more wet than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t resist reaching out, your fingers brushing over the hard lines of her biceps, head slightly tilted as you admired in fake innocence. This was everything but.

Paige chuckled, and you felt the vibration underneath your fingertips as they dropped back to your side in one swift motion, the blonde now laid back in front of you. She took in your slightly dazed expression, and it only made her want you closer to her. On her.

“Get your ass up here,” Paige growled, her voice low and commanding, and you didn’t need to be told twice.

Scrambling to straddle her, you positioned yourself over her abs, your body tingling as you felt the firmness of her muscles beneath you. The friction was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you slowly began to grind against her, your movements fueled by the heat of the moment.

Paige’s hands roamed over your body, her eyes never leaving your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure. The hat on your head had been trying to escape, and Paige reached up, adjusting it with a grin before letting one of her hands return to your waist, speeding up your movements, and the other to your clit—doing as much damage as possible.

The blonde was practically drooling as she watched her two fingers slide between your folds, not missing the quaint squelching noise it made. “Pussy so good, baby. I swear.”

You were a whining mess, the sound being your only verbal response to Paige’s words. Your hand reached for the gold chain round her neck, the jewelry being previously tucked as your fingers tugged onto it in true cowgirl style.

Her words sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you as you rode her abs, the sensation something you’ve never felt before. You had started to feel immense heat underneath Paige’s touch, and it was driving you closer and closer to the edge. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you completely lost control.

Paige could sense it too. She leaned up slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Go ahead. Let me see how fucking good you look when you lose it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, letting out a long and hoarse cry that Paige was quick to shut down, her guiding hand now used as a cover for your mouth. Your hips continued to buck as she pulled her fingers away. You looked down at the way they glistened, eyebrows furrowed as she brought them to her mouth.

And of course, the most Paige thing to do was to turn you on even more as her tongue went to town on her own fingers, licking every bit of you off of them. You were close to demanding her to eat you out next, but the two of you didn’t have any time for that.

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was sloppy and filthy, your tongues dancing in a heated rhythm. The kiss was a passionate mess, filled with the raw need that you both felt. But then, the distant sound of fireworks caught your attention, breaking through the personal sex bubble you’d built.

You gasped, your eyes widening as you pulled away from her. “Paige, we’re missing the fireworks!”

Paige’s face mirrored your shock as she looked toward the window. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, her expression one of sudden realization. Both of you scrambled to get dressed, tossing garments back and forth in a frantic attempt to look presentable. Paige’s bun was a far cry from its original neatness, and your cowboy hat had slipped off for the third time that night.

Finally, you managed to make your way out of the bedroom and finally outside where Paige’s dad, Bob, and a few other family members, including Drew, Paige’s little brother, were gathered. They were all watching the fireworks display their attention momentarily diverted by the spectacle.

One of them, with a sly smile, glanced at you and Paige as you entered. “Where’d you two run off to?”

Paige’s retort was quick, a playful smirk on her lips as she answered, “Promise land.” It was clearly a joke, but the way they scrutinized the two of you, taking in your disheveled appearance—messy hair, wrinkled clothing, and the cowboy hat that still refused to stay on your head—left little to the imagination. There wasn’t much point in hiding it anymore.

As you both took your places in some lawn chairs to watch the fireworks, Paige stepped in front of you for a brief moment. She reached down, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear with a tender touch. Her voice was soft, almost serious, as she mumbled, “You know, I think I like roleplay.”

You gasped, your eyes wide with disbelief. “P, that is so not what that was!”

[lev1hei1chou]

Anesthesia Antics

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo feels loopy thanks to the anesthesia Masterlist Requests open!

"Y/N! I can see my hands!" Gojo's muffled voice, thick with gauze and anesthesia, echoed through the car as you helped him into the passenger seat. His normally sparkling blue eyes were half-lidded and glazed over, giving him a dazed and childlike appearance. He wiggled his fingers in front of his face as if they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

"Yes, babe, you do have hands," you replied, trying not to laugh as you secured his seatbelt. You glanced at the nurse who had accompanied you both to the car, and she gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Just make sure he rests and doesn't do anything too strenuous," she advised. You nodded, thanking her, and shut the car door.

As you started the car, Gojo's head lolled to the side, and he stared at you with wide, wonder-filled eyes. "Y/N, you’re so pretty," he slurred, reaching out to touch your face. His hand fell short and landed on your shoulder instead, patting it clumsily.

"Thanks, Satoru. Just sit back and relax, okay?" You turned onto the road, keeping an eye on him in the rearview mirror. He kept gazing at you, a dreamy smile plastered on his face.

"Y/N, do you love me?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if it were a secret only the two of you could share.

"Yes, I love you," you replied, amused by his sudden need for affirmation.

"I love you too," he mumbled, his head nodding forward. Just when you thought he might fall asleep, he jerked up again. "Wait, are we going to fight curses? I'm ready! I can take them on!" He raised his fists, albeit weakly, and you had to stifle a laugh.

"No, no curses today. Just rest," you reassured him.

Gojo seemed to accept this, settling back into his seat. He stared out the window, and you could see the wheels turning in his foggy brain. "Y/N, the sky is purple," he announced solemnly.

"It's blue, sweetheart," you corrected gently.

He looked genuinely perplexed. "Are you sure? 'Cause it looks purple to me. Maybe... maybe it’s a special sky, just for us."

You smiled, shaking your head slightly. "Sure, Satoru, it's a special sky."

The rest of the drive was filled with similar proclamations. He told you how he could control the weather, that he was a superhero in disguise, and at one point, he even claimed he could talk to animals. "That bird just told me a secret," he whispered conspiratorially, pointing at an ordinary pigeon.

"What did it say?" you humored him, pulling into the driveway.

"It said I'm the best sorcerer ever," he said, his eyes twinkling with pride. "But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret."

"Your secret is safe with me," you promised, helping him out of the car.

Once inside, you guided him to the couch and helped him lie down. He squinted up at you. "Y/N, I think I’m flying," he declared, his voice thick with drowsiness.

"That’s just the anesthesia talking. You're on the couch," you explained, brushing a stray hair from his forehead.

"Oh." He blinked a few times, then smiled lazily. "You’re really pretty, Y/N. Did I tell you that already?"

"Yes, several times," you replied, laughing softly.

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Stay with me? I don't wanna be alone."

"I’m not going anywhere," you assured him, sitting beside him and gently rubbing his hand. His eyes fluttered closed, but he fought to keep them open.

"Y/N?" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Satoru?"

"Will you marry me?"

You felt your heart skip a beat. Even in his medicated state, he managed to surprise you. "Ask me again when you're not high on anesthesia," you said, chuckling softly.

He pouted, looking as serious as he could in his condition. "I’m serious. I love you. And I want you to be my forever."

"I love you too, Satoru," you said, kissing his forehead. "Now get some rest."

Finally, his eyelids grew too heavy, and he drifted off to sleep, a content smile on his face. You watched him for a moment, feeling a surge of affection. With a final, gentle squeeze of his hand, you settled in beside him, snuggling close.

[januaryembrs]

hot chocolate!!!

what about bau!reader who’s super affectionate with spencer (and he just takes it with a blush and sugary coffee)

example; jawline kisses that are supposed to be cheek kisses instead of hello’s and goodbye’s & reader having her arm around spencer’s waist at all times cuz she’s just so used to his body warmth!!!

(for some reason i’m imagining s9 reid & new-ish reader but u can do what u want ofc!!)

FUGITIVE AFFECTIONS | Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

description: fugitive (noun) meaning escape, runaway. (adjective) meaning fleeting, brief, passing.

Length: 1.1k

warnings: fluff fluff FLUFF.

He knew what was coming the second he heard her footsteps. The coffee machine spluttered with effort as it churned out his third cup of the day, and he was already perched with the sugar waiting for the appliance to do its thing. Spencer barely had chance to acknowledge the approaching figure when he felt arms wrap around his waist, someone attaching themselves to his back with a feather light kiss to his spine. 

“Good morning,” He called over his shoulder, and you hummed, quickly squeezing the soft pooch of his stomach and releasing him. 

“Morning,” You said, and he leaned up to open the cupboard door, which wasn’t a big feat for him with his heinously long limbs. Plopping a mug down on the side, he poured coffee in your cup first before he started on his own, “Reports due today?” 

“Hotch wants the Minnesota and the Nevada cases wrapped up,” He said, sliding the milk and sugar over to your side of the counter and keeping his head down. Spencer felt his ears run hot, like they usually did whenever you got so close to him, which just happened to be always. 

He doubted the words ‘personal space’ were ever a thing in your vocabulary. It had started with Garcia, with the two of you linking arms and braiding each other's hair after two weeks of you moving to the BAU, and he’d figured that Garcia had won you over with that natural, bubbly charm of hers. But Spencer was perceptive, and he’d quickly realised the behaviour was not strictly limited to Penelope and her chirpy attitude. You tended to walk close to everyone, like you were trying to mesh you bodies in with them and the shoulder bumps and hands brushed against one another didn’t matter. In the end, rather than push you away, Morgan had taken to wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you waltzed around the office together. Even Blake was succumbing to your touchy-feely attitude as you liked to cosy up next to her on the jet, usually falling asleep with your head on her shoulder, and she thought little of it now, just continuing with her crosswords unbothered. 

And then you’d set your sights on Spencer. 

He supposed you hadn’t quite got the memo about his germaphobia, or perhaps the transference of bacteria between humans during simple hand holding just never occurred to you. Yet after just a month of being desk buddies with him, he nearly jumped out of his skin the day you slipped your fingers in between his when the two of you had been paired up on a case and you were heading down the witness’s driveway to interview them. 

He’s been about to ask what the hell you were doing, or perhaps scramble to shove you off, and sanitise his hands with the emergency gel he kept in his bag at all times. But by the time he’d looked over at you, his cheeks a flaming strawberry colour with what he’d thought of as annoyance, you were simply smiling at him, and began swinging your joined hands back and forth, nudging your temple into his shoulder affectionately. 

“You look really pretty in that purple shirt, Spencer,” You said simply, and whatever scathing remark about how eighty percent of pathogens are transferred during hand holding was robbed from his gullet and he was stunned into silence. The way you’d said his name alone made his lips part in wonder, because he’d never heard it said like that. 

“T-thankyou, I like your jacket.” He cringed as soon a he said it, and the two of you looked down to your government issued FBI vest, the same one he wore, the same one Hotch wore, the same one they’d all worn for the past nine years. 

You sniggered, bumping him again with your forehead like you were a cat purring up against him, marking your territory. 

“You’re cute,”

You were full of sweet, loving words like that he realised, all buttercups and candy floss and honey and sweetie and my love and he felt himself expecting it now, biting his lip in worry if you were ever just the tiniest bit too busy to fluff him up with affection.

Like when you’d been called out by Blake on an emergency, the two of you scrambling to grab the SUV keys to go meet Morgan and JJ where they were moving into the building  after the suspect. 

The two of you had all but ran out of the precinct in the effort to catch up with the other agents, leaving Spencer, pen still in his hand as he mapped out the geographical profile, and he hadn’t realised anything was missing until he heard the door slam shut and he hadn’t felt the warmth of your hug, your hand in his hair ruffling it lovingly, not even a ‘goodbye, sweetie!’

Spencer pouted, despite the fact he’d spent the first few weeks wondering if he should be shying away from your touch because he was quickly running out of sanitizer and had yet to want you to stop. He felt like his routine had been interrupted, because that’s definitely what the source of his disappointment was, not the fact he wondered if he had done something wrong, and yet before he could think too hard about it, the door swung back open, Blake yelling something from the hallway that he could just about make out was your name, before a body crashed into his side and your lips were on his jaw, kissing him lightly through laboured breaths. 

“Bye, Spence.” You murmured, kissing up his cheek a few times to apologise for the wait, and he hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour through the fish out of water gape as he watched you run back to the door, Blake looking at you incredulously. 

“I just watched you run up three flights of stairs for that?” She asked, the door slowly closing behind you and giving him unfiltered snooping on your conversation. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, the same one that you had just kissed over and over again like it was a normal thing for you two, and he wondered if he could coordinate you rushing out of the office every time if it meant he’d have that again. 

“It’s Spencer, it was important,” You insisted, and he squoze his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, because it was too late to tell you just how much you’d made him feel in such a tiny gesture, and the electricity from your kisses had to come out somewhere. If not, Spencer worried he might explode. 

His hand sanitizer sat empty in his pocket, the same way it had been for months, and Spencer couldn’t care less.