#from back when i could have thoughts that lasted longer than 20 seconds

[taexoxosgf]

FORMULA 1

PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader

WORDS 3.5k

SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.

WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol

NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb

You spot Mark across the airport track.

Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.

Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.

You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.

You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.

ML: Enjoying the view?

ML: I know I am

You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.

ML: Come here.

You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.

ML: Baby don’t be like that

You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving

You: Bye

Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.

People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.

There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.

There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.

Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.

You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.

Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.

The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.

You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Leaving so soon?”

You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.

“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.

Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.

All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.

You know what this means.

I don’t even want to think about it.

There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.

You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.

Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.

“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.

‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.

You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.

His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.

As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.

The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.

Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.

You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.

“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.

You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.

“Since when do you like good girls?”

Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.

He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.

“I did until I met you.”

“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.

One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.

You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.

Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.

His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.

You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.

His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.

“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.

“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”

“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.

He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.

You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.

Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.

“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.

You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.

He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.

His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”

He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.

“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.

His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.

You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.

“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.

“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.

Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.

As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.

“Don’t tease, slut.”

“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.

As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.

“Spit on it,” he demands.

From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.

Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.

Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.

The feeling was literal heaven.

Oh, how you could never get used to this.

His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.

Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.

A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.

“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.

You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.

As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.

“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.

“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”

Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”

This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.

“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”

Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.

“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.

Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.

The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.

“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.

His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.

“Fuck.”

You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.

Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.

“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”

You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.

“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”

His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”

“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.

“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.

“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 20: home

“What the —“ Heizou stopped in his tracks as soon as he got to the field. “Did I get the time wrong? I could’ve sworn the practice was scheduled after lunch.”

Underneath the scorching sun, there Scaramouche was, alone on the field. Heizou did not know what he was supposed to feel — should he be proud or worried that his captain was still playing his best despite not having any opponents? Not teammates, even. On that soccer field, it was just Scaramouche, the ball, and the goal.

He merely sighed.

“Scara!” Heizou called out as he approached the bleachers. The indigo-haired boy then looked at his direction, only acknowledging the other’s presence with a nod before going back to his practice. “What a snob,” he teased loudly.

“Shut up, Shikanoin.”

Heizou sat down as he starts preparing to join Scaramouche. While putting on his cleats, he looked around.

One of the large water containers meant for the soccer team was almost empty, even though they just refilled it to the brim after the previous practice they had. Scaramouche’s towel hang on one of the seats’ back, drenched in sweat. His sharp eyes then trailed back to the lone man playing on the field, whose shirt was almost made see-through due to being wet.

‘Just how long has he been playing here?’ Heizou thought.

As soon as the whole team, together with their coach and her good friend (a certain literature professor) arrived, the real practice commenced. From warm-ups, to drills, even up to practice games — Scaramouche was always there with them. He did every single thing that the whole team did. Even though he already did them more than a hundred times earlier.

Around dusk, Scaramouche was already reaching his limit. His plays were still impeccable, but his own body could not keep up with his own thoughts. He was panting, his legs almost at the brink of failing. His whole being was shaky and unstable. And for a second he stayed idle, crouching and bending his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Kunikuzushi," Ei called.

"Coach?"

"You're already tired?" The woman's voice was laced with disappointment. Despite being the star player's mother, she could not spare her one and only son the humiliation. Scaramouche scoffed inwardly. 'She really had to tell me off within earshot of the whole team.'

Scaramouche was about to retort, but shortness of breath stopped him. Instead, it was Heizou who responded to their coach. "Coach Ei, maybe we can let him take a break. Scara's been here practicing since early morning. He must be fatig —"

"I'm not tired," Scaramouche stood up straight. "I can still play."

"Dude." Aether uttered.

Ei merely stared at him before blowing the whistle once again, signaling that the game resumed. Scaramouche however, no matter how hard he tried, failed to last much longer.

"Scara!"

"Captain!"

Every player in the field stopped what they were doing as their captain fell and laid flat on the grass. He was desperately gasping for air while clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. All of them thought it was because he was catching his breath, but no.

It was primarily because he was frustrated with himself.

His mother stood near them, her friend beside her. "You're clearly overfatigued, Kunikuzushi," Ei remarked. "You're still lacking stamina and endurance."

Scaramouche, still on the ground and short of breath, put his right arm over his eyes. He could not help smiling bitterly. 'When did I ever not lack anything, mom?'

He chose not to say anything.

"Practice for today is now over."

Scaramouche's teammates expressed concern for their captain, while his two bestfriends helped him up. The whole time, they could not read the man at all. He did not say anything, nor was his face expressing anything.

All they knew was that he took what his mother said to heart.

Meanwhile, Ei and her friend Yae remained on the soccer grounds. The purple-haired woman was looking after everything, making sure that the team did not forget anything or did not leave a mess. Her friend merely seated on the benches with her legs crossed.

"You know, Ei," Yae said as she was boredly checking her nails. "You're a little too harsh to your boy."

"You know that I have to be."

"Of course, of course. I do remember what happened to your sister, and believe me, I understand where you're coming from. I know you just want to protect your son."

Yae stood up and headed towards her friend. "But you know, the way you are doing it, I don't like your approach."

"I am doing this for his own good," Ei insisted.

"If you say so."

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 24)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,511

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

Things slowly begin to enter a new normal.

You go to class, see your friends, and spend most nights with your boyfriend, licking, teasing, tasting each other on every available inch of skin you can find. The five of you hang out as a group and you’ve never been happier.

You’re even passing art history, thanks to Azriel’s fool-proof system of studying; a sexual favor in exchange for every correct answer you give.

For the most part, everything seems like a dream. Compared to the beginning of your year, it is. There's still that niggling feeling inside of you that you just can’t seem to get over, though. As you sit in the art building working on your project for Alis’ class, you’re not entirely sure what to do. It’s the last assignment before the semester ends and you’ve started and restarted the drawing three times already, all of your attempted creativity fizzling out within hours.

Now, with only two days to go before it’s due for critique, you’re on the cusp of tears. It’s not from lack of trying, but because you’ve been forcing yourself to tap into your inner creative and find your muse. You want to create something that you’re proud of, but there’s nothing for your heart to grasp onto, no genius ideas that make you want to pour your soul onto the paper.

You’re starting to think that you might fail this class.

Feyre had offered to tag along, but she’s already finished her project fairly quickly after the assignment was given out, and things have been a bit awkward between you and Lucien since he found out that you and Azriel are officially dating. 

Naturally, the event had occurred after one of your drawing classes. It almost felt like deja vu, with the way Azriel was waiting outside of the building. This time, you were more than happy to see your boyfriend, who was leaning up against the side of his motorcycle, helmet tucked under his arm with a second one perched beside him. 

You could admit that you’re starting to enjoy riding on his motorcycle with him. He’s even taken you to his favorite spot where he often goes to draw or think, escaping the stressors of his life back on campus such as his father pestering him about the buying building he lives in. He hasn’t responded to a single text message.

“(Y/N), hold up a minute,” Lucien said, stopping you from going down the stairs of the building to meet your boyfriend with a hand on your shoulder. Feyre continues downward after you gently wave her on, but you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes narrow.

“What’s up, Luc?” you ask, although you already know what he’s wondering. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that whatever you and Azriel had started out as is now the complete opposite. He’s no longer your infuriating neighbor, but the boy you you’re slowly starting to fall—

Thankfully, Lucien interrupts the thought before you can dwell on it too long. “What’s going on with him?” he asks, jerking his head to where Feyre and Azriel are talking quietly. The latter watches you and Lucien’s exchange intently. “I thought you two hated each other, but now you’re hanging out with him all of the time? Did I miss something?” 

A pang of guilt gnaws at your stomach. You feel bad for not telling Lucien about your newfound romance with Azriel, but you’ve been wanting to tell him over lunch or coffee, but with the end of the semester projects and tests coming up, the both of you had been too busy to properly hang out.

Your cheeks heat and it’s hard to look him in his eyes when he looks so confused. “Yeah, um, Azriel and I are sort of dating now.”

Lucien frowns, “Sort of?” 

“We are,” you shake your head, answering more solidly this time. “We’re dating.” 

You don’t miss the hurt that flashes through his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

You sigh, kicking and digging the tip of your shoe into the concrete for something to focus on. You don’t like the way that Lucien is looking at you, like you’re no longer his friend, which isn’t the case at all. Sure, you know that for whatever reason he and Azriel don’t see eye-to-eye, and you can admit that you’ve only fed into that storyline by spending most of your time these days with Azriel and not taking the proper time to check in with your friend, but right you feel like you’re the one at blame for not reaching out.

It seems as if Azriel has had enough, pushing up from his motorcycle to ascend the stairs. His strides are long, sure, and his spine straightens with each step closer he takes, shoulders widening and chest puffing. 

“Hey, princess.” 

“Azriel,” you greet with a nervous smile, accepting the way he tucks you into his side and presses a kiss to your cheek. His hand is firm against your hip and you enjoy the way he feels, the way he allows you to siphon some of his strength for this conversation. “This is Lucien. Lucien, this is Azriel.” 

The two boys stare at each other, sizing one another up. It makes you shift on your feet but Azriel’s hold only tightens, showing you off, staking his claim.

It’s awkward, to say the least. Neither of them greet each other and it's as if they’re both waiting for the other to look away first so the other can snap at their neck like a rabid dog. You shoot a look towards Feyre but her head is buried in her phone, an enormous smile on her face, completely oblivious to the pissing contest that’s happening up the stairs.

A muscle ticks in Lucien's jaw before he rips his gaze away from Azriel to settle back on yours. He gives you a single nod, and you’re not sure how to feel when his throat works around a swallow, his normally honeyed voice coming out rougher. “I have to go, actually, before I’m late. I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” 

“Lucien,” you call, but he’s already turned down the stairs and is brushing past Feyre, whose eyebrows furrow with concern at the sight of your friend. She tries to speak to him but he brushes her off gently, and when her heavy blue-gray eyes settle on you, you deflate into Azriel’s side. 

You feel similarly to how you did then, defeated and glum. The piece of drawing paper before you is filled with the darkness from your charcoal, your fingers coated in the chalky substance, and the shapes you’d been sketching stare back at you, taunting you, because no one is going to be able to finish this except for you.

It’s a fairly simple task, to draw yourself as some sort of hybrid, but as you look in the mirror hanging to your left, you can’t seem to figure out what kind of creature resonates with you. Feyre had drawn herself as some sort of beast, her true self, she claimed. When you had asked Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel what they had done when they took their drawing classes, Rhysand said he drew himself with dragon features, Cassian morphed himself with a grizzly bear, and Azriel had drawn himself with the bat wings inked across his back.

The last time you spoke with Lucien before your relationship became strained, he’d been drawing half of his face as a fox, and you’d seen one of the other girls in your class, Vassa, you think her name is, drawing herself as a phoenix. Everyone seemed to light up with their ideas immediately when Alis had announced the final project, and you had only ducked your head, unsure of what to do.

Voices trickling down the hall startle you from your thoughts. You set your chalk down as you recognize the tenor, the laughter echoing around the silent building. Azriel and Cassian appear in the doorway to the classroom. Cassian’s splattered with clay from having been working on his own final project of the year, something he’s been boasting about but refuses to tell anyone what it is, and the smile that lights Azriel’s face when his eyes connect with yours is perfect.

You hadn’t realized how tense your shoulders had been, but the way they deflate at the sight of him makes you realize just how tired you are. There isn’t much time left until your project is due, and you’re sure to remind yourself that once again, you need to focus.

But the way Azriel’s eyes drag down your hands, coated in soot from the charcoal, flaring with heat, you’re forgetting your deadline and the project you’ve barely started completely. 

“Hey, princess,” Azriel greets, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your mouth. You can’t help but to slant against him a little, your energy from your long night sapped. His hand caresses your cheek and he frowns a little, examining your exhausted and frustrated state.

Your heart flutters at the warmth, at the care he shows you. How he isn’t afraid to hide his hands from you because you’ve spent night after night showing him just how much they mean to you. 

“Hi,” you reply with a soft yet strained smile, you turn to Cassian next. “Hey, Cass.” 

“Hey (Y/N). How’s the art project coming along?” 

You sigh, leaning further into Azriel’s warmth. “Not amazing, if I’m being honest.” 

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asks, “It looks like you have a solid start.” 

You crinkle your nose, examining your paper. It looks more abstract than anything, and you wonder for a moment if Azriel’s just being nice about it. But you know him better than that, and he would never tease you about a craft so dear to both of your hearts. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you groan.”I’ve started over three times.” All you want to do is throw your head in your hands but you don’t want to get chalk all over your face, unless Azriel is the one putting it there. Naked.

Maybe having sex will help get your creativity flowing?

Your boyfriend frowns for a moment, examining your work. You can see the cogs turning in his head, how he might help you figure out what to draw for your project. Of course, you could easily draw any animal mixed with yourself, but you really want this one to have meaning behind it. 

“Why don’t you take a break and we can all grab something to eat?” Azriel suggests. “A break might do you some good, and Cass and I were going to head over to Ritas.” 

A hot waffle and a large milkshake sounds absolutely superb right now, to be honest.

You stare at the paper before you. You really should stay and put in a few more hours of work, but at the same time you can’t stand to stare at it any longer. 

Two more days. You still have two more days.

“Yeah, I could use a snack,” you agree, picking up your pencil box from the floor and tossing your sticks of chalk into it. “Give me a few minutes to pack up.” You stand from your art horse, eyeing the mess of black. “You should too, Cassian. You’re covered in clay.”

He only grins and you—once again—regret saying anything to him. “The ladies like it dirty, (Y/N). But you know a little something about that, don't you?”

You try to force the warmth from your cheeks as you think of just how thorough Azriel had been the last time he drew you. How up close and personal he’d gotten with his stick of charcoal, how up close and personal he let you get with some paints you’d bought. 

Sometimes you love being an artist.

“Fuck off, Cass,” Azriel gripes, flipping your large sketchpad shut. He helps you pack your things while Cassian snickers, and his eyes are hot when you rub your hands together, trying to dispel the dust from them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and your sketchpad under his arm while you dart off to wash your hands before Azriel can get any ideas. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is…bustling for a Friday night. 

It looks completely different from when you’d been here last. No sign of the irritable waitress, no sign of anything really, you’re unable to see through the mass of the crowd, stuffed in booths and gyrating in whatever open space is left.

The lights are low. A colorful disco ball spins in the center of the diner that you hadn’t even noticed your first time here. Spots of color percolate around the room, seeming to guide the students on the little dancefloor as they sway their bodies, the tables lined up against the walls for this purpose.

“Rhys and Feyre are on their way,” Cassian says, reading a message on his phone before swiping at the screen. You don’t see the way that his eyes darken at whatever notification pops up because Azriel’s tugging you through the crowd.

The air is hot with bodies and laughter and as you make your way through the throng of people, you’re glad Azriel had talked you into a quick pit stop at the apartment to put your things away, as if he had known the diner would look like this tonight. He must spend more time here than you thought because he eases through the crowd, shoulders lax, letting the clubby music pouring from the jukebox wash over him.

“Are you sure this is Rita’s?” you call over Azriel’s shoulder, genuinely confused to how the dingy daytime diner has turned into this delightful nighttime dance party.

He tosses you a smile over his shoulder that makes your heart flutter.

“It’s where all of the cool kids go before and after the bars,” Cassian teases when Azriel finally finds an empty spot for the three of you to stand. He’s scouring the restaurant as if he’s looking for someone and returns his hazel gaze to you with a lazy grin. “C’mon, (Y/N), it’s like you don’t even go here.”

You roll your eyes, grumbling a little as Azriel pulls you to his front, settling his hands on your hips. The music is surprisingly loud but it’s good, causing you to roll your hips a little with the rhythm. Your boyfriend’s grip tightens, pulling you closer, and you can feel the interested bulge in his pants as his breathing turns heavier with your motions. 

“Spent most of my time at house parties last year,” you answer, shouting over the volume of the bar. “I’m hardly of drinking age, lest you forget.” You lean towards Cassian so he can hear you, pressing your ass further into Azriel’s cock. His thumb sneaks under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine. 

As if he isn’t the one that brought you here, he seems to have changed his mind fairly quickly.

“In that case, allow me to buy you a drink, my lady,” Cassian bows a little, taking his time eyeing the lower region of a girl that passes by. “What are you having?” 

You shrug, no longer in the mood for a milkshake. You scan the crowd, flickering over everyone on the dancefloor as you mull it over. “Something with rum,” you answer, and you don’t even think he’s listening anymore as the girl gives him a salacious smile over her shoulder and he starts chasing tail. 

“Think he’s coming back?” you ask over your shoulder. Your squeal is eaten up by the changing of songs as your boyfriend spins you abruptly in his arms, plastering his hips against yours in a slow grind that matches the heavy bass that makes the crowd cheer in excitement. 

“Don’t care,” he breathes into the shell of your ear. He follows his words with a nip at your lobe and you bite your lip, winding your arms around his neck. 

“Azriel,” you tut, but you can’t stop looking at his lips. His stare is hot and his hold is demanding, keeping you glued to his front as you grind your hips against his teasingly. “Cassian is your friend.”

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name on your lips right now, princess,” Azriel all but growls, golden eyes igniting. 

“What do you want?” you ask breathlessly, your nipples tightening into pebbles beneath your shirt. 

You’re thankful no one’s eyes are on you right now, all lost in their own conversations or dances with their partners. You don’t think it would matter if they were looking anyway, because you’re so focused on Azriel and the way his body reacts to a simply press of your body against his, warmth flooding you the way it always does when he’s around, that you might need that drink poured over you to pull your attention from him. 

“First, I want to take you home,” his hand strokes a long line up your spine and he buries it in the hair at the nape of your neck. You gasp at his firm hold, arousal dripping to your core when Azriel uses that hand to guide your head away from him to suck at your neck. You arch into him, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Then, I’m going to strip you of all of these clothes,” his free hand grabs a handful of your ass and your approving hum sounds more like a moan. “And I’m going to ask you to ride me, princess. I want you to guide my cock into your tight, drenched pussy and take what you want, because you’re my needy girl, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” your nails rake down the back of his shirt.

“And when you’re cumming on my cock, squeezing me tight, I want you to—”

“Your drinks,” Cassian says gruffly, shoving a cup between you and Azriel. It forces him to stand straight, glaring absolute daggers at his best friend but it seems to bound off of Cassian’s shoulders easily, because he looks just as pissed.

You’re still a bit dazed, so it takes you a moment or two to figure out what’s going on. Azriel won’t let you leave your position, can’t let you leave your position because his boner if full on fucking raging right now, but he does allow you to turn around again, taking the drink from Cassian to quickly take a sip, trying to quench your parched throat.

“Thanks,” you say but Cassian hardly acknowledges it, passing a beer over to Azriel. He had two still clenched firmly in his free hand but he takes one and slams it back quickly, emptying its contents before Azriel’s even had a sip of his own. 

“You okay, Cass?” Azriel asks, his hand sliding protectively over your hip. There’s no need to protect you from Cassian, but even you can admit as you shift from one foot to the other, that it’s weird seeing him like this. Not as carefree as he normally is. 

“Fucking dandy,” Cassian grunts, hazel eyes grazing down where you and Azriel are still pressed tightly together. He looks away just as quickly and you think you see his lip curl a little.

Azriel stiffens behind you.

What the hell is going on with him?

Before you have the chance to ask or Azriel has the chance to bait him, Feyre’s pushing through the crowd, towing Rhys behind her. One girl glares at her as she passes but Feyre doesn’t seem to notice, eyes lit with happiness when they finally reach your little group, unaware of the clouds of tension bubbling around the three of you.

Cassian makes an effort not to choke down his entire second beer but it’s all too tempting. He takes a deep sip so he doesn’t have to speak.

“Hey,” she greets, cheeks a little flushed already. Rhysand and she must have been drinking before they came out. Or had sex. 

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep your grip on your cup relaxed. Cassian is acting strange. You glance up at him again but he’s avoiding eye contact with everyone right now, glaring into the mass of people. Yup, definitely avoiding looking at any of you.

“Rhys,” you hear Feyre say as you share a confused look with Azriel. His brows are pulled tight as he examines one of his best friends. He’d seemed fine back at the art building, his normal cheery and cheeky attitude threatening to drive him up the wall, so what happened between then and now? “Will you go get me a drink, please?” 

“Of course, Feyre darling,” he agrees, but Cassian’s already shoving past him, muttering how he’ll get them drinks. Rhysand’s mouth parts but Cassian has already disappeared into the crowd. Well, as much as any six-foot-five man can disappear. “What’s his problem?” 

Azriel shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “If we only knew.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

[fawnpires]

AMORAL SILHOUETTES — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

༉‧₊˚ ┊ PART 2.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: infatuations with older men were morally wrong, but never applying to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: afab!reader, manhandling, breeding kink, pet-names, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), size difference, creampies, reader is in her 20's, ghost is a single dad, touch-starved, domesticity, squirting.

You've seen him around the neighborhood before — towering in height, bulging biceps, and a skull balaclava sheltering the structure of whatever laid under, the structure of his concealed face. It was a known fact that you bear an attraction to him, but you just couldn't own up to it, feeling a little too shamed to be conscious about a little school-girl crush on a man much older than you. A man who was a hard-working, ex-military, single father who paid no attention to girls in the same line that you found yourself in — but was it hard not to steal a view glances whenever he was seen around the neighborhood whether it was for a few minutes or seconds despite his lack of ability to communicate with others, though it was obvious he chose not to be around others for a good waste of his time excluding his children.

So when he came strolling up the slope of your driveway and a gloved fist beating at your front door, you had thought you were in another one of your trances — molded daydreams of him; minor fantasies of Simon Riley in that same balaclava giving you all of his affection, kissing you, treating you as if you were his pretty wife — a life that you could never make a single complaint about.

Ghost — his more preferred name used on other's tongues — stands eerily underneath the giving-out light of your porch, with nothing but a set of dusky eyes and a whole lot of muscle beneath the puny fabric of a black v-neck. You, stand on the opposite side of the door and impassively stare, nonetheless avoiding the eye contact when he gapes at you for longer than intended.

"I'm assuming you're the daughter." he said, reserved, dull.

"Sure am, did you need something?"

He clears his throat. "Well, this might be a strange thing to ask — and a bit sudden," He brought his hands to tuck in his pockets. "But would you mind looking after my kids for a while? I'll pay you for every hour, just a couple days of the week."

His offer was the last thing on the brink of your mind when he happened to show up, asking you for a favor — being in his house, where he lived, with his presence ghosting around. It sounded creepy. A bit stalker-ish to think of it like that — but you played it off as an innocent favor he asks of his neighbor, just a few hours of your day taken off to go kid-watching for the man who you admired the most.

"A couple days of the week?" You repeat his words back to him.

"I'm certain."

"I mean, sure, I'll take the offer, but when do you want me to start?"

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow evening is fine, around six."

You bit your lip. "Got it. Have a good-night, Mr. Riley."

"Knew I could rely on you, thanks, doll."

A single wave was managed. No verbal good-bye, just a wave from the hand that was freed from the confines of his pocket — and a pet-name taken straight to the pinpoint of your heart. You watch as he turns his back and finds himself across the street to where he coincidentally had lived — watching as he outstretched his arms and embraced a young girl with no emotion that had intentionally been shown to the public. Doll. It was unknown if his label for you was something he did purposely or had just slipped from his masked lips.

Either way, it made you feel like cherished like never before, his doll.

The day in which Ghost's favor was asked of you passed by quickly into the day the favor was actually supposed to be performed, straight at six, right in the center of where the sky was going through modifications of warmth to a bitter cold. Much like him with more anxiousness residing in your chest, you were across the street and bound to his porch, a dress shrouding your figure up to the bottoms of your thighs. Dressing and dolling yourself up made you look like you were going more on a night-out rather than a baby-sitting shift. Unintentional was the word for it. Unintentional to be all formal when in the same proximity. You half-recover from your birthing nervousness and thump on the door gently.

"Mr. Riley, it's me." you blatantly said, the door still closed.

With your words blurted out the door seemed to open on command — aggressively, as if it were going to be discharged from the hinges. Rather than a giant of a man in the doorframe there stood a girl half the size of it, lightly-shaded blonde hair up in pigtails with a cherubic face, staring right up at you as she titled her head. Honestly, you weren't good with children, but kindness was fundamental as of that. You give her a forced smile pressed up into the corners of your mouth as if held at gunpoint, whispering a small greeting and a wave. How maternal of you.

From further into the house came footsteps, blaring footsteps, and the little girl was no longer stood two feet on the surface of the ground but lifted into her father's arms with a brief giggle. You weren't going to stand here and be blamed a liar if that didn't advance an adoration for him in the moment.

"Thank you so much for coming and apologies, it's my fault for letting you in late," he said. "Make yourself at home."

"Don't worry about it." you reassure.

Ghost's house was clean and neutral, but gave off a decent interior of a past lieutenant's home well. There were a few toys littered around, a locked exhibition cabinet of ex-military trinkets, piled-up envelopes, and one other silhouette of a little girl bearing similarities to the one in his arms. Nothing in his house gave off a girlish ambience, besides two daughters, but it was masculine; like an adequate, suburban variety of a old-fashioned farmhouse with rifles and deer heads on display replaced with military collections.

There was a microscopic chance of danger with a bunch of firearms and artillery gear laying around but as someone as wise as himself, of course he kept a lock on it. Chain, even, if he wanted to get that far into territory.

"Bedtime's at eight, food is already ordered, and you have the entire house to yourself past the eight-o-clock mark." Ghost said. He provided you with a spare key, his bared fingers brushing against yours as he placed it in the middle of your hand. "So you have plenty of time to, you know, relax."

"When will you be home?"

"Around ten, but wait up on me — I'll give your pay up before you leave."

"So I stay until ten?"

"Sure do."

"You can trust me, for sure."

"I know I do." he said.

His eyes trail over you for a minute longer before bending his knees and and allowing his daughter to be freed from his grasp, legs straightening up again as he pat your shoulder. "Thanks, kid, I'll see you later."

All of these nicknames were blurted from his mouth like nothing — first it was doll, now kid, and it just left you anticipated for what he would grant you next with. That though stuck to your mind like a nail screwed by a hammer, watching as he took his jacket and folded it in his arms, swearing that he gave you one last glance before he unlatched the door and shut it behind him — leaving you to bathe in the first touch he acted on you, his effortless terms of endearment, and the two resembling daughters he relied to be cared of.

Spiraling. You had to be spiraling.

Your hours spent with the children were calm. They had warmed up to you pretty fast and had dragged you nearly to every spot of their home. Up the stairs where their shared bedroom stood at the hall, a couple of bathrooms downstairs, a storage closet, the showcase of weaponry, and even Ghost's bedroom. They declared his room was some kind of secretive hideout, only being in there a limited amount of times, but urging you to take them in there along you. It was going to be difficult to get out of the pressuring so, having your own fun, you let them explore around his room — like you were a cool older sister, or mother, to them.

The title "Mother" exclaimed from one of the girls, ultimately leading into them repeatedly a series of them calling you variations of mom, mommy, mother, throughout the night instead of the name you had given them to call you. You weren't extremely irritated with it, you actually found it slightly adorable considering that they didn't even have a mother and latched onto you as some sort of female parent never obtained, nonetheless it was practically harmless and brought no harm down on you.

Baking cookies, some sort of role-playing they convinced you to star in, doing their hair in all sorts of girly ribbons and accessories almost made you feel like you were a little girl again — it had drained them out pretty easily but gave them a sense of girlhood, giving no offense to Ghost. A vision crossed your mind, eventually spearing your mind, that you were the real mother to these girls. A female figure to look up to and issue them a full family with a packed set of two parents. It had been drilled to you the other half of the the night, you kept a close eye on them as they had gotten ready for bed and prepared themselves under the covers.

With a deportation of reading a shabby bedtime story and a few ruffles to both of their heads, you finally had his home to yourself. Anything you wanted to do was accessible, easy-to-do, but with no danger of waking up the girls. Exhaustion was present, though, with all of your lone ideas to-do in mind you ended up on the couch. Your head tilted in one palm as you legs crossed under the skirt of your dress, the illuminations of late-night talk shows on television glowing your face in shades of dissimilar hues.

Staying up and waiting for Ghost to walk right through the front door was starting to become a challenge. Blaming his daughters for putting you in a state of pure fatigue was never the right thing to do, although it was easy to admit. Your eyelids were heavy with one more glance at the clock, which read a quarter to nine, meaning that this night could come to its finale and you could see that face of his — physically, up-close, like you did three hours ago.

As you were right at your breaking point into a slumber the doorknob trembling and echoing into the room where you were buzzed you awake. Stretching over the arm of the sofa and sloping your head to where the door was visible, knob had stopped with the commotion, the door silently opening a crack before blew open. To your relief and satisfaction it's the man who've you longed for the entire day, like a depressed stay-at-home housewife. His jacket is thrown on a nearby table as he could only stare at your laid figure over the couch, eyes squinting.

"Welcome home."

"Appreciate it. Are the girls upstairs?" Ghost asked with a finger pointing to the floor above.

"All knocked out."

"Jesus, what did all of you do?"

"Just a little girl-fun, that's all, baking — stuff like that." you said with a no-teeth grin.

"I could only thank you again for that," he sighs and pulls out a couple dollar bills stuffed in the jean of his pocket. "You don't have any idea how hard it is to get those two asleep."

"Really? They're like little angels, they loved me."

"I bet they did," he said while setting your pay on the coffee table. "Here, an entire hundred stack."

"Hundred?"

"You deserve it, do you not?"

"I'm only a part-time babysitter, Mr. Riley, not a full time worker."

"Yes, but you're a good girl, are you not? Going through all the trouble to make time for me and my kids — so I can assure you this is my pay for you, think of it as a prize."

"God, well, thank you." you said, processing his terms of good girl, heat rising to your face. "You really love those girls, don't you?"

"They're my pride and soul." he said while taking a seat next to your half-laid body, dipping the cushion of the couch. "I only want the best for them, that's why I chose you to look after them."

"Me, why?"

"It's difficult to explain, and a bit strange but — you've always reminded me of my past wife, kind and loved her kids, soft spot even for the people she didn't really know."

"I didn't know I could resemble someone so much." you said, mouth going dry.

Ghost laughs. "Yeah, she was quite beautiful too, like you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Hell, love, you've got the looks any man you could fall for.

His hand comes to gently rest on your thigh and you look up at him through droopy eyelids, this didn't feel real. This couldn't be real, right? It couldn't be proved as false when his calloused fingers started rubbing tender circles into your skin, eyes of his own half-lidded and crinkling around with the tar-like paint staining skin. You and him were playing a dangerous game, pent-up tension right in here in his living room, a man by all means older and more mature than you've ever been — it was so easy to give into him so fast.

"You like that, huh?" he keeps his voice low and continues the strokes on your thigh. "You ever been touched like this, dollface?"

"No, sir."

"Mm. I liked the way you called me sir, honey. Come here, sit-up."

You balance yourself on twitching elbows and Ghost moves in between your thighs, his body weight heavy compared to your smaller physique as he lifts the cloth-edge of his balaclava for you, revealing a light stubble peppering the anatomy of his face and somewhat coarse lips that pressed up against yours. Your hands hoist to caress his face, kneading into his sinking cheekbones with each move to intensify the kiss. His pink muscle of a tongue forces your lips open and laps at every crevice of your mouth — your arms linking around his head, his fingers once at your thighs now under your skirt and massaging in circular motions at your fabric-clothed cunt. Small whimpers of shame leak into the kiss, evolving into moans, his massaging enhancing with every finished motion.

Ecstasy ran through your veins, pulsing with adrenaline and contentment. Your legs are fragile, trembling, alongside your cunt flourishing a moistness in its fiber confinement. The man of your daydreams no longer is just a fragment of your delusional head, but right where you've longed for him to be, taking and compelling you to be obedient for him. Only him, always him.

The ministrations on your veiled cunt withdraws and drags a moan from the depths of your throat. One of his hands instead crawl underneath your pushed-together legs and the other supports your back. You dive into his lips with a hunger once more and he manhandles you so delicately despite the tough behavior, you're drunk on the taste of Ghost as he works through the house up the stairs, through the hallway, and brings you into his room where you once stood earlier — the click of the lock confirms your status, you're safe as long as you're with him.

His hands pressing into the flesh of your body is loosened up as he lays you gently on the mattress as if you were created of porcelain — which did have some sense in it bearing in mind that you, essentially, were his doll of a girl by his own words. Defines of his eyes stream your body up and down, towering over you in height, yourself much more reduced and small. Fingers assist you with stripping your dress, leaving you in an arrangement of panties and bra complimenting every curve and bow of your figure. He curses mutely under his breath, huge palms cupping and kneading at your breasts, his knees resting on the bed.

Your whimpers are more pristine and clear to his naked ear. Looking through your languid-like eyes, a bulge is positioned right at his jeans, and his shirt had been ripped off of him — possibly during the time where your eyes had been closed to immerse in his touch.

"Such pretty tits, love." He said with a grunt. A deep guttural grunt.

"They're all for you, mister, always have been."

"Not mister, not even Ghost — Simon to you, and it's going to be Simon when I'm pounding into this tight little cunt of yours."

His words add on to the wet arousal staining your panties, swearing a second heartbeat could be felt, a throbbing and senseless feeling.

"You like this pair?" Ghost asks, nudging at your panties.

"Not important." you reply through short, cut breaths.

With your consent, he takes both of his hands, ripping the fabric in half. A gasp delivers from your open mouth — both at the cold air's impact on your exposed entrance and the material ripping apart. He has a look in his eyes that resembles a feral animal, one that is undomesticated and always in a repetitive state of hunger. Ghost backs you up to lay against his pillows to allow more space for him to climb on the mattress with you. He wastes no time with leaning himself down and hooking your bare legs in a hold around both arms, resting right at his broad shoulders. Those same eyes of hunger peer up at you with the bottom half still exposed from the bruising make-out session.

You feel a mushy lick bumping at your clit, causing your back to arch to the ceiling with a high-pitched moan, who knew such a motion could make you so submissive in a short span of time. The palm of your hand is instantly cupped around your mouth like a guard as Ghost continued his ministrations on your lips — no longer kitten licks but long, dragged out ones that had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull and struggling to muffle such sexual noises deprived from your mouth for the sake of his daughters fast-asleep down the hall.

"You taste like heaven," he grunts. "You're such an angel, making those sweet noises all for a guy like me."

"Only you, fuck, you feel so good." you whined, fisting the bedsheets at your sides.

"That's my girl."

The slant of his nose stimulates your clit while he proceeds with his longer, stroking tongue advances reaching deep inside your cunt. Your surroundings are heated with an addition of pure wetness, sweat, and mess clogging your brain up. His tongue provides you with a pleasure even your own fingers couldn't drive out of you, drool pools at a corner of your mouth while his grip on your legs hardens, strokes of his tongue becoming more aggressive — driving you quicker over an edge, your stomach in knots and oversensitivity. Your vision starts to blur out once you realize you can't control the sounds that he forces out of you, his tongue again and again savoring you as if you were his last meal on death row — he was desperate and willing to lap up your juices staining his face and your inner-thighs, Ghost was just as deprived as you were for him.

A thick sensation adjoins his tongue and nose, overwhelming sparks of emotion possessing you. The palm around your mouth is useless at this point, it lays flat and abandoned as a fist clutching at the sheets, moans chased out humiliatingly. You needed to come, come for him, for your own sake — but that was hard to think about when Ghost was mouth-fucking and finger-fucking you at the same exact time, much like some pornographic type video. A cliche one.

You were squeezing around whatever he stuck in you next — his tongue, his fingers, his tongue, or an combination, you were with no doubt tight and squeezed around any of his body parts.

"Fuck, you gonna come, sweetheart?" he asked, muffled with your clit puckered between his lips. "It's okay, come for me, just like that."

"Baby! Oh my go-"

Your back arches to an impossibly high rate when the knot in your stomach unties itself willingly, a wave of arousal gushing in streams on his face. Audible whines fall from your lips as you fall back right in contact with the plush of the bed. Sweat and the scent of sex reeks around you and Ghost, your chest rising with each hefty breath that is fished from your lungs. Your blurred vision is somewhat returned to its original shape, enough to make out Ghost — with his bare chest and your arousal at his face, tongue used to make said arousal transpire licking around at it, and his inked forearm. He was sticky and sweaty, a little tired, but obtained the right amount of stamina to be right inside you, just like he had wanted.

"Simon." you heaved out below, his fingers pressing into your hips. "Fuck me, please. I need you so bad, needed you ever since you've first moved here."

Ghost releases a low grunt and within a few seconds, he's messing with his belt — shakily unbuckling it and shrugging his pants to the floor. His boxers are no place of concealment, the prominent outline of his bulge protruding beyond the fabric, the sight provoking you to press your thighs together and rev-up that weakness present in your knees. He tugs at the waistband and slowly, painfully, lowers the border bordering item down — his cock almost immediately coming to press against his lower abs, at his lower stomach, really giving you the idea of how big he was. His balaclava is fully suited back on his face as the he leans down to give a final stream of soft kisses at your stomach through the mask, a hand pumping from the base of his cock to the tip.

"You want this, angel?" he groans with his pumps before he releases himself from his hand, positioning the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your swollen cunt as he provided a pre-fuck with only his tip. "Want my cock deep inside your pussy, pounding you into the mattress?"

"Oh god, I do, want you to fuck me as if I'm your wife, your pretty little housewife."

With one unforeseen jolt of his hips, he slams into you, your tight walls fondling him as if you were made for him. Your arms link around his torso as he moves his hips slowly, nails etching into the muscles of his back.

"Fucking hell, I can feel you squeezin' around me, love," he pants out, thrusts developing into a more faster pace. "This pussy is so good to me..."

"You're so fucking big, fuck."

Ghost jackhammers his cock into you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, your legs squeezing around his waist. Your mouth widens with each moan and whimper he could drain you of — he pounds into you, fucking you like an animal rabid, sinking fully inside with each thrust of his hips. There's a composure and steady rhythm he keeps, allowing him to punctuate each of his plunges with his cock kissing at your cervix, his hand moving down to your clit. His thumb rolls over the bud and correlates it with how he fucks you, your nails digging at the skin of his back.

"Want to put a baby in you," he groans as his hips rock faster, nearly knocking the breath out of you, his fingers ghosting over the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach. "We'll have a perfect lil' family together, such a pretty little mother to my kids. You would let me do that, yeah?"

He's pistoning his hips in-and-out of you, your cunt naturally squeezing around him as your whines grew in pitch. His words held so much meaning — an entire family with him? Spending a lifetime with the older man you've adored from across the street? It had sounded more like paradise, anything that you've ever wished for in life. He knew he loved you so much, and you knew you loved him as equally, so much that he could imagine your cunt all full of his seed — stomach swelling with his child.

You nod as an agreement and he grunts, thrilled at the idea of you and him birthing something so intimate with each other. A family, your family, his family. It was a scheme he never thought he would be overly-obsessing, despite his disagreement with it during his time serving the army. But he dropped it, as long as he had you, and a devoted life.

"Want that so bad-" you squeal out, the sensation of a knot in your stomach on its last support heels, each of his drilling thrusts pulling you nearly to a climax. "Wanna have your baby, yours forever." Your phrase comes out slurred as the knot is broken of the last support it was on, sending you back into another session of short paradise.

"You're so beautiful. Going to breed this pussy with all my cum, honey." He sinks into you more erratic as he feels the walls of your cunt grasp abnormally tightly around him, his head going bare and distorted, the only initial thought in-tact was to keep the flow of thrusts he had fabricated — though, said flow was quickly dismembering.

His fingers of projecting veins running up his knuckles that were conveniently gripping your hips with such a pressure molded your skin into his contact easily. Your moans coming from a thrown back head against his cologne-scented pillows merged with Ghost's persistent heavier grunts — it's almost like a choir, using two valid voices, and delivering some sort of out-of-tune melody but with a hint of great profound beauty behind it.

The sensitive nipples of your breasts rub up right against his sweat-sheen chest in company with the dog tags strewn around his neck swaying in your face. He's leaning into you and has you caged in with no escape, his flow of thrusts gone, both of you desperate for a release. His muted breathing is irregular and heavy, your legs trembling and weak encircling his waist. His name is on your tongue and it leaks into the air, chanting it like your life was depending on it at the moment — depending on him. The lewd squelching of the head of his cock kissing your cervix, his noises combined with yours, the slapping of skin-on-skin — all of it was such an erotic sight to the human eye.

His head is back resting in the expanse between your head and shoulder, balaclava raised to expose the area of his lips once again, the warmth of those lips stamping sloppy, wet kisses into your neck; you squeal out as you're driven to your breaking point, a rush of arousal pressuring from your cunt and spraying onto his lower abs while he douses his cum deep into your swollen cunt. His own high-point doesn't stop him from sneaking a few more smaller thrusts for a bit, assuring all of his seed stays remains inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters, voice breaking off, his knuckles are ghosting a shade paler than white while he keeps purchase on both sides of your hips. He's stuttering over breaths as he tries to catch up with them, eyes falling to your immobile self. Your mouth is vaguely unfastened with breaths taken, eyes nearly closed, body slightly shuddering with the collisions of his cock still felt up inside of you — leaving your filled cunt fluttering around nothing.

"Too rough on you, sweetheart?" He asks, raspy.

"I think I'm okay, besides —you made my night even better."

He chuckles, a rare vision coming from a man like himself. "I'm happy to assist with that."

"Also," you imposed a dopey grin on your lips. "You should ask me for favors more often."

[adoresia]

✦˚₊ TRUST ME I GOT NOTHING FOR YOU OTHER THAN LOVE…

Pairing : E42 Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Miles finds it hard to open up to you about whats going on in his life, after a little persuading he finally tells you about whats bothering him so much.

Sierra speaks : FIRST OF ALL… thank you guys so much for all the love on my last fic it means so much to me🫶🏾🥹 it took so long for me to build up the courage to start posting… Here is another fic i had in my notes to make you guys happy! I litterally have a bunch of fics and fic ideas stored for myself and now..im sharing them with you!🥳 enjoy!! also this is a little longer than i had planned…

Warnings ❕: Miles almost crying 🥹, rubbish spanish, heavly suggestive (oops), kissing, cussing, teasing???.

Listen too’s :

YALL BETTER LISTEN TO THE SONGS I PAIR WITH THESE FICS ISTG.

You leaned on the railing on your balcony, eyes fixated on Miles’s tall figure walking back and forth outside your apartment complex.

It was well pass midnight and the street lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness of your Brooklyn neighbourhood.

He was by himself smoking a blunt. He knew you hated when he smoked so he attempted to keep it from you, however this time he couldn’t really hold himself back.

Life was dragging him through the dirt right now, with the passing of his father and the pressure of being prowler on his back, you could almost mistake Miles for being mute. A part of his life had been ripped away.

And you couldn’t blame him.

It was a struggle for him to open up to you, and despite being together for almost a year, he still struggled to talk to you, to fully open up to you. And even though you welcomed him into your life with open arms, he still did not feel complete. Nothing could replace what he had lost.

Before Miles had found himself outside the both of you were cuddling. With Miles laid between both of your legs, his head rested on your chest while you massaged his scalp with your nails.

Since his arrival he had not uttered a word to you apart from :

“hey baby, ima just stay here from a bit if thats okay.”

He hugged you tight, even tighter than ever before. You could tell something was up, but you let him go at his own pace, weather he wanted to tell you about it or not he knew you would always be there for him.

So here you both lay in silence on your bed, your sheets draped over the both of you. It was like that for an hour. Miles fiddling with the hem of your bra staring at your desk chair.

He blinked like 20 times in the last hour, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He looked so over it, and it pained you that there was nothing you could do to help him liven up a little. You kept assuring yourself that it would be temporary. Seeing Miles sad made you sad.

But as the minuted went by Miles stay lost in his sunken thoughts. You couldn’t bare watch him in this state for any longer, even if it meant you had to push him a little.

“What’s wrong hermoso? i’ve never seen you so…down.”

“Nada, Mami. just... thinking.”

“About what papa? sabes que puedes decirme cualquier cosa.”

Miles responded with a hum, not bothering to open his mouth again as it was smushed against your cleavage. The familiar sound of silence re-entered the room, theres nothing else you could say.

“Ima go outside for a bit baby, ill be back.”

He lifted himself off of you so suddenly, sliding on his shoes and giving you a peck on the top of your head without even giving you time to process.

“Where are you going? do you want me to come with-“

“No. I’ll only be a few seconds chiquita.”

“but.”

There were no ‘buts’ he had already shut your door before you could bombard him with questions. Instead your mind filled with them.

Did you push him away? Did you ask too much? say, too much?

Thats how you found yourself staring down at him in the middle of the night, worried. His puffer jacket stay thrown on your desk chair, he had not even thought about bringing it with him, knowing it was quite cold outside. Was he really that desperate to leave? to leave you?

You took a deep breath and decided it was about time you went down for him. You picked up your hoodie, or rather his hoodie; one you stole from him when you went over to his place, sliding into it like a huge blanket.

You put on your slides and grabbed his puffer jacket. Leaving your phone behind.

Pressing on the exit button of your apartment complex you stepped outside. Making sure to put a block on the door so it wouldn’t close, trapping you outside.

You walked towards him almost tip toeing so he couldn’t hear you. You came to a stop behind him watching the smoke blow away with the wind while he brought his arm down beside him, blunt in hand.

“I know your there ma.”

“…”

he laughed looking over his shoulder, you smiled handing him his puffer.

“Its so cold out here even this hoodie isn’t doing me justice, put your jacket on Milo.”

He took his jacket from your hands holding it to his side, seemingly unfazed by your words and the cold.

“Not as an accessory, miles. Put it on. Please.”

“You’re shivering ma, you look like you need it more than i do.”

And instead he places each of the arm holes over your shoulder. You gave up, there was no point in convincing him, and anyways you were still cold even with his giant hoodie on. Goosebumps laddered on your thighs because of your extra short- shorts.

“Hand me the blunt at least. You know i don’t like when you smoke.”

You held your hand out so he could replace the cold air blowing over your palm with the wrapped blunt.

“Yeah im sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything if your not gonna change.”

“I know ma. I promise I’ll try.”

“Good.” You stood in-front of him, squinting your eyes.

“Where yo glasses?”

“Inside.”

“Why didn’t you bring them?”

“Because i wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Which actually beings me to why i’m here. I’m worried about you, Miles. You won’t talk to me and if you let these feelings bottle up inside you it won’t…end well.”

“What your gonna break up with me if i dont talk?”

“No… i meant-“

“Then i don’t need to talk. As long as i have you with me theres no need to worry.”

Silence filled the atmosphere between you two again. Miles could sense your disappointment. He let a moment go by watching you huff as you gave up trying to figure out whats wrong with him. You started to make your way back to your apartment before he stopped you with his words.

“Its Ma.”

You spun yourself around to face his back.

“mhmmm.” you signalled for him to continue, walking towards him.

“I aint never seen her this down since dad passed. Her job is taking every single ounce of energy and happiness out of her, she leaves at like 6 in the morning to come home at God knows what time during the night and falls asleep on the couch. She doesn’t have time to even get anything to eat before she has to get up again the next morning to go to work. I can count on my fingers the amount of words she’s said to me this whole week. And last night…”

He came to an abrupt stop, bringing his pointer finger and thumb up to the inner part of his eyes trying to stop himself from crying in front of you.

He let his bottom lip fall letting out a sigh.

“Its okay Milo, you don’t have to finish the rest if you don’t want to. It’s just you and me bonito you can cry, déjalo salir.”

Still with your reassurance he refused to let you see him in this state, but was unable to control the single tear that threatened to drop.

You wiped both his eyes with the pads of your thumb until there was no tears left on his face or his waterline.

“Milo, you don’t have to act all big nd tuff around me. Everyone cries yknow?” you looked up at him while wrapping your arms around him.

“You are so good to me mi amor, ion deserve you.”

“Corny. But i know.” you smiled closing your eyes in his embrace.

he laughed breathily before giving you a kiss to your forehead.

He held your hand turning his head signaling for you both to go back inside.

“It’s low-key getting a bit cold now. I think the only thing keeping me warm was that weed.”

He looked at the now smushed up ball what remained from his blunt. Before eyeing you up and down.

“Cmon lets go, not even these two layers are keeping me warm.”

You pulled on his arm directing him back inside the apartment complex.

Once you got to your door you scrambled everywhere for your keys. Your short pockets, Jacket pockets, hoodie pockets, shit you even checked your afro. Before you thought back to when you grabbed Miles’s jacket and left the room while your keys sat still on your desk.

“Fuck. were locked out.”

“You for real?”

“Nah im just pretending i left the keys inside so we can stay out here in the cold.” you rolled your eyes, thinking maybe that wouldn’t he a bad idea as long as you were with Miles.

He leaned against the wall next to your apartment door pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, the beat of his heart ringing in your ears.

His lips hovered over your head before placing gentle kisses on your scalp.

“How many kisses are you gonna give me Milo.”

“You want me to stop?”

“No..” You smiled to yourself.

“Then stop complaining.”

Lifting his hand from your waist Miles cupped your chin lifting it up so that your eyes would lay on his. His pupil fell to your lips and then back to your eyes. You knew what was up.

“No.”

“Fuck you mean ‘No’.”

Miles mimicked you while you laughed at him, he looked at you unamused.

“Im joking Milo, kiss me.”

“No.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN NO?”

Now it was Miles’s turn to laugh, although you didn’t find it funny a smile still crept up on your face as you narrowed your eyes at him and pondered.

His laugh reminded you of him 2 years ago, when he had a softer personality, happily striding to you or anyone around him with a proud smile on his face, you missed it. And you know he did too.

You stood up still leaning on him but on the tip of your toes. You wrapped your hand around his nape and pulled him in for a well anticipated kiss.

Your lips locked with his, coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. For a moment you envisioned kissing Miles for the first time a year ago, how he didn’t see you coming when you pecked him on the lips. And how he pulled you back kissing you desperately with deep desire.

You lifted up your other arm and wrapped it around his neck while you played with the tip of his braids. Miles wondered his hands down from underneath your shirt to just under your ass. His fingers pushed gently against your skin shooting tingles throughout your body.

At this point your knees were getting weak as your head swayed against his, your mind went into a haze as the heat from the kiss sent you into a bliss. You felt Miles tug on your bottom lip granting himself access to your mouth.

Both your heads sped up the pace bobbing over eachother in sync, Miles feeling insatiable lifted you up to sit on his hips as he turned you both around. You now leaned back on the wall while he rubbed the bottom of your thighs still insatiably kissing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed with pleasure until he pulled away, you both stared into eachothers narrowed eyes breathing heavily.

“Fuck if we were inside right now, the things i’d do to you mami.”

“Break down the door if your that desperate.”

His head fell into your chest as he chuckled. You laid your head on top of his for a while before he let you down.

You both sat outside your apartment door, you on top of miles in a fetal position. Your coat draped over the two of you (barley) as he stroked your forehead with his thumb.

“Te quiero mucho ma, hasta la luna y de regreso.”

He whispered before placing another kiss on your forehead.

“hmm? whatchu say Milo?”

“Nada mami, cierra tus ojos.”

Extrs :

— Yeah your keys were inside, but so were your parents😭 so when your mom opened the door that morning to head of to work the both of you lay there snoring, with your arms wrapped around eachother.

— When you took Miles’s blunt you tried a little yourself 🤫

“Ma.. what are you-”

*heavy coughing*

“so im not allowed but you are-?”

“sh. i was just seeing what the hype was all about *cough* I-I feel like im dying”

Miles just laughs at you.

© All rights reserved to @444morales on tumblr.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platforms.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)

Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Next part

-

The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.

You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh. 

But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.

[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.

[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?

You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.

[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?

As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.

[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆

You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.

[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.

Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.

[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.

Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.

[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?

Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?

Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.

It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.

[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂

You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text. 

And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.

-

[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.

-

As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter. 

It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.

And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.

So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a  simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.

[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌

You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.

[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?

Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.

-

You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.

Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”

Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny. 

Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you. 

She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”

You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.

Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”

“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.

Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”

Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.

“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.

“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly. 

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.

“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.

“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”

“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in. 

“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.

“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”

You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”

“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”

“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just meet someone.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”

-

Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her. 

So, she does what she does best: Pretend.

Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.

Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to. 

Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.

And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.

She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.

Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.

Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.

[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.

Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.

[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.

Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?

As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.

[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️

It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.

[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.

[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊

Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.

-

Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him. 

Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.

Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.

And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend. 

-

The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home. 

They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.

“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.

Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”

“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”

If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away. 

“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.

“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly. 

Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.

“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.

“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.

“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”

Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.

“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?” 

Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?

Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?

But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.

“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.

“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal. 

Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.

“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”

- 

Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.

Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood: 

“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”

Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.

A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?

Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.

She's with Danny now.

-

Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.

It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.

When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.

Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.

It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.

-

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.

She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.

“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.

“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.

“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.

“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”

“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”

Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.

“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.

“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”

You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”

“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.

“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place. 

You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.

“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.

Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.

Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?

And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny Meet Ugly

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.

Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Word Count: 14.5K

Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.

Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.

“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.

It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.

The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.

It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.

It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.

Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.

“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.

“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”

“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”

“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”

“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.

“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.

Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.

It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.

You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.

The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.

You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.

The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.

“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.

Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.

“Evening, Officer…”

“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.

“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.

“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”

“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”

You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.

“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”

He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.

You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.

Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.

You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.

“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.

“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”

“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.

He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.

The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.

“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.

"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.

"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”

"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”

"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.

You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.

The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”

“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”

“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.

“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”

“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”

“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”

“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”

The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.

No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.

The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.

Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.

“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.

“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”

“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”

Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.

You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.

“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.

“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”

“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.

“Thanks Maggie.”

You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.

He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.

Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.

Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.

Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.

The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.

You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.

Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.

He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.

“This happen often?” You asked him.

“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.

You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.

It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.

One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.

He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.

His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.

Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.

You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.

Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.

You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.

With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.

You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.

Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.

“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”

So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.

“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.

He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.

“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.

You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.

You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.

“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.

“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.

You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”

“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”

“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”

“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.

“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.

“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.

“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.

You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.

“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.

“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.

“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.

He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.

“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”

He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.

He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.

You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.

Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.

You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.

You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.

He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.

Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.

He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.

He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.

He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.

He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.

It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.

The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.

Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.

Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.

Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.

You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.

The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.

“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”

He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.

“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.

“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”

“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.

He shook his head and watched you go.

“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?

The following week he seemed to be everywhere.

He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.

A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.

The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.

You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.

“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.

He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.

You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”

“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.

He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.

“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”

“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.

“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”

“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.

You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.

As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”

You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.

“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.

“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.

“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”

“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.

“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”

“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”

“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.

“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?” You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?

“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.

He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.

“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”

You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.

“And you think you're just the man for the job?”

“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.

Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.

“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.

His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.

“Have a good night, Deputy.”

You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.

Two weeks.

Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.

Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.

You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.

“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.

He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.

It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.

It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.

Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.

Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.

Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.

Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.

“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.

His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?

“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.

His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.

“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”

He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”

“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.

“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.

“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.

“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.

“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”

He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.

He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.

“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”

“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.

He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.

He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.

There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.

He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.

“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.

There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.

“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”

That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”

You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.

Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.

You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.

You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.

“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.

He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.

He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.

He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.

“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.

“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.

“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.

“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.

“What? What are you…”

“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”

The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”

He sat quietly for another moment.

“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”

You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.

“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.

He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.

“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.

He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.

Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.

It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.

“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”

He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.

He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.

You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.

He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.

His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.

He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.

His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.

Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.

You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.

It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.

He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.

You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.

“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.

“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.

His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?

As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.

He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.

You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.

He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.

You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.

He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.

You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.

“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.

“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”

This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.

“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”

You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.

He pulled back slightly to look down at you.

“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”

His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.

Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.

His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.

You were positively soaked, glistening before him.

Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.

He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.

“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.

He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.

You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.

“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.

“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.

“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.

You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.

“Please what baby?”

You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.

“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.

He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.

He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.

He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.

Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.

He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.

You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.

“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.

He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.

He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.

Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.

He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.

Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.

“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”

Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.

The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.

Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.

He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”

Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.

“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”

He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.

His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.

He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.

“You good?” He finally asks.

There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.

You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.

He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.

“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.

“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.

He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.

“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.

“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”

You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”

You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.

“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.

He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.

“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.

“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.

“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.

He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.

At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.

“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”

You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.

“Ok big boy, let's go.”

The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.

“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.

“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.

“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.

“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.

You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.

You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.

“I know it's not much,” you began.

“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.

He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.

He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.

For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.

As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.

You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.

Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.

“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.

You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.

Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.

“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.

You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.

He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.

His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.

He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.

“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.

“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.

You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.

“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.

You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.

His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.

You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.

You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.

You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.

As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.

“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.

It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.

“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”

“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.

“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.

You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.

You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.

He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.

You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.

You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.

“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.

He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.

“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.

He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.

“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.

“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.

He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.

He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.

The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.

You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.

You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.

“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.

His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.

“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.

His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.

“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.

“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.

Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.

He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.

Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.

He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.

He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.

“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.

You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”

His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.

The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.

He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.

“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.

“You sure?”

“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”

He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.

“What are you…?”

“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”

You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.

“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.

He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.

You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.

“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”

You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.

His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.

“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”

“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.

He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.

When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.

He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.

He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”

“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.

You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.

“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.

“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.

He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.

“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”

He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.

“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.

“Yes! Cum in me!”

“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”

His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.

He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.

He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.

Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.

“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.

“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.

His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.

“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”

He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.

He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.

“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”

It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.

“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.

You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.

When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.

Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.

Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.

The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.

You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.

You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.

Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.

He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.

He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.

Where the fuck are you?

He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.

He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.

Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.

He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.

He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.

He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.

You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.

You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.

Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.

You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.

You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.

You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.

Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.

Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.

One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.

He had responded to your text later that day with:

Sure bunny. you free tonite?

You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.

It had been like that most nights since.

There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.

Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.

You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.

And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.

You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.

He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.

His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.

He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.

“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.

Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.

“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.

“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.

He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.

You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.

The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.

You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.

After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.

He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.

“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.

“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.

“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.

“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.

“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.

Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.

It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.

A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.

It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.

It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.

The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.

You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.

Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.

You still in town?

Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.

Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.

Can we talk?

I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?

Hello?

You groaned, sitting up.

Finally relenting and typing out a reply.

You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.

It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.

You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.

You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.

“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.

Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.

“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.

“Move Gator.” You hissed.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.

“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”

You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.

“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.

Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”

“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”

“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.

If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.

If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?

“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.

He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.

You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.

“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”

You brought a finger to his lips.

“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.

“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”

You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?

You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.

His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.

Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.

He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”

“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.

“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.

He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.

“Fuck, so wet.”

“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.

He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.

Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”

Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.

He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.

You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.

He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.

“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.

Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.

The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.

“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”

“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”

You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.

Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.

“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”

He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.

He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.

“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.

Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.

“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”

You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.

“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.

He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”

“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.

“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.

“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.

You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.

He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.

He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.

It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.

After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.

The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.

He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.

You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.

He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.

The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.

As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.

You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.

“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.

“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.

“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”

“I haven't thought about it.”

He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”

He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.

“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”

He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.

“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”

Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.

You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.

He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.

“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.

“You'll see. C'mon.”

You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.

“Whose house is this?”

“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.

It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.

“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.

“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.

“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”

“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.

"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”

"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.

"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."

"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”

You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.

“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.

“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.

No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.

Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.

[izvmimi]

there was a time where oliver aiku used to love discussing his love life in interviews. for some people all press is good press, and the reputation of being a ladies' man, called anything from a casanova to playboy to straight up rake, rarely upset him. in fact he reveled in it, delight in his mismatched eyes whenever reporters would tease out the details of his most recent rendezvous. models, actresses, the occasional influencer who gave him what she marketed on only fans for free...

he loved to discuss all of it. after all, what egotistical man shies away from discussing his conquests?

but this time, once the subject comes up of who he's been last seen in the media with, all he can think of is you, and your smile, and the loving way you've wrapped your arms around the second-highest grossing actor this year. once lauding his success and status over you, you're far out of his reach, cavorting with stars that out-league him.

he should have seen this coming. he always knew that you were beautiful, after all. even when you cried as he dumped you for easily accessible pussy, expecting that your crush on him since childhood would last for the rest of your life.

oliver breaks hearts, he doesn't get his heart broken.

"so, it seems like you continue to live up to your reputation, with no less than six prominent characters you've been entangled with recently. can you tell us what the rumors are?"

oliver smiles, palm scratching at the scruff on his chin. he remembers that you'd once told him he needed a cleaner image and that possibly started with considering at least shaving for interviews. he hasn't done that today - in fact, he hasn't done anything for you, has he?

"no comment," he jokes. "i don't kiss and tell."

the reporter, a man this time, grins in the way that men who size each other up by how wide they manspread or how big their dick is or how much money is in their pocket does. but oliver's grip on the armrests of his chair tightens. he's begging internally for the topic to change, any way to avoid digging himself into a bigger pit than he already is.

the last time he saw you in person, you were breathtaking. was it revenge that made you truly blossom or is the regret of the fact that he can no longer have you transformative?

"fuck off," you'd said, promptly, the moment you saw him standing at your door in the middle of the night. there was a time, when you were high-schoolers that you only spoke to him softly; there was a time, in your early 20s, where he could simply smile sheepishly at you, pushing shaggy hair back and you'd believe anything he said.

"aren't you happy i came to you first this time?" he'd been quick to answer. the joke doesn't land, and for the first time in forever, you don't even crack a smile.

he remembers telling you he had options, and realizing that in truth, you were always the one who could aim higher.

"you can do better," you remind him of his own words. your face is still made up, you're back from a photoshoot. your career soars and his stays stagnant. he's trying his best, he's not lacking in skill, but for now your star shines far brighter.

he didn't tell you then, couldn't bring his mouth to utter the words, but it's not true.

he cannot do better than you.

oliver grins, and pushes the thought of you out of his mind.

oliver, the man who cannot fall in love, gives the public what they want.

[peterparkersnose]

You Over Anyone

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: jealousy, angst, relationship awkwardness, assault (physical), reader gets cut by a knife, description of assault and defense, blood, din takes care of you, allusions to sex

a/n 97 days until the mandalorian returns !!!! somewhat angsty. there isnt quite enough angst on tumblr that doesnt end up with sex. dont get me wrong, i love a good smut, but sometimes i just need some yelling and frustration. longer fic woohoo!!! wrote it in one night too. i missed din djarin. 

bonus at the end for you guys :)

summary Y/N gets upset when another girl comes around and questions where her relationship stands with Din

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read time: 9 mins 29 seconds

3 days, 12 hours, and 30 ish minutes. That was the last time Din kissed you, but you totally weren’t counting. How long has it been since he’s touched you? Hugged you? Acknowledged you for anything other than the bare minimum? Your anxious thoughts flew through your mind as you tied up your boots. He had become more and more distant each day since you had found Natalie.

About a week ago you were in the forest looking for a frog to sneak to Grogu. He had listened to you all day and deserved a treat for being a good boy. That is when you came upon a girl, no older than 20. She was almost nude, shivering, and covered in dirt. And drop dead gorgeous.

Against your better judgement you took her back to the crest. Din had basically done the same for you when he found you, why not return the favor?

Natalie showed up in the middle of an awkward time in you and Din’s relationship. Sure, flirty banter has been there ever since you’ve known him. But the last few months you two have been together- sort of. It was confirmed by mutual feelings but never said out loud. You two were everything but girlfriend and boyfriend. I mean, you could have sworn Grogu said ‘mama’ last week. You were raising a child as well as taking the risk of making a new one. He had shown you his face. You had to be something. There was no way you weren’t- right?

Shaking your head and grabbing your weapon, you followed the sound of giggling from outside.

“He does tricks?” Natalie asked, head cocked perfectly in Din’s direction. Her ponytail flew perfectly in the breeze.

“Well, sometimes. Grogu- where’s your ball? Did you leave it on the crest?” Din playfully asked his son, tickling his stomach. All he got and expected as a response was a ‘coo’ from the child.

Taking in the sight of your… Din and Grogu and her made you sick. I mean, she was even wearing your clothes. How much more sick could this get?

“Ready?” you asked, approaching the two hanging your blaster from your belt.

“Actually, I think Natalie and I are going to stay back. I promised her I would teach her how to shoot and…” Din said, the tone in his voice weary.

He saw the way your face dropped, but it flew completely over his head. Your mouth was slightly agape. You stared at him. Then her. Then him.

“Y/N?” Din coughed, breaking you from your haze. “Yeah sure. I’ll take Grogu into town with me.” you said flatly. Without hesitating, you reached for Grogu sitting in his pouch on Din’s waist (god that tiny waste drove you nuts) and secured him in your scarves.

Walking to the speeder, you watched as Din brought Natalie over to the hill the crest was parked on, letting her aim his blaster. His blaster, the one you were forbidden to touch. The pit in your stomach kept growing larger and larger and falling deeper and deeper.

Grogu cooed, noticing his mother was upset. “I’m alright, kid.” you said, smiling putting on a strong face for him. Of course, he could sense everything that was wrong and your phony smile couldn’t fool him. A sad sigh exhaled from the child as he placed his forehead and a tiny green hand on your chest where he sat tightly.

At least someone still wanted you.

Jiggling through the lanyard that was attached to your waist looking for the speeder key, you heard a shout from behind you.

“Y/N!” Din yelled, waving his hand with a slight run towards you.

Your face perked up. A slight smile came on your lips. He was coming back to give you a goodbye kiss, you just knew it.

“Hey,” he said, slightly out of breathe as he reached the speeder. You were ready. Leaning over the speeder towards him, your eyes met through his viser.

“Don’t forget those to buy those special nuts I like. The ones with dragon berry? Remember?”

Your perfect moment was crushed.

“Yup,” is all you could manage out. Your hand had grasped the right key and you sped off, leaving a trail of dust behind you.

***

It was now midday. The hot sun beat down on the two of you. Your scarves were draped over your head, shielding the sun from your eyes.

You felt a tiny scratch on your chest. “Yes, yes. Calm down, we’re going to the Cantina for some food.”

One more sale and it was lunch. The bag of credits in your sleeve pocket was still heavy. You were skimming the blaster modifications when you heard a squeal.

“Is that her, Din?” you heard Natalie say from feet away. “Shh!” he hushed her.

He told her his name. Not Mando anymore. Din.

“Y/N!” Natalie yelled from across the market. You grinded your teeth and took a deep breathe, abandoning any interest in the parts.

“Hi!” you said with the fakest smile you had ever had on your face. “How did you two get here without a speeder?” you asked, a pissed tone silently rode off your lips as your eyes stabbed into his beskar helmet.

“We walked! It was such a nice time in the forest. An hour goes by really fast when your having fun.” Natalie smiled aimlessly at you.

As you couldn’t see, Din was behind his mask with the most tired eyes and annoyed face known to man.

You swallowed.

“I’m starving. Could you get me some food Din?” she said again using his name. “Mando.” he corrected her. “Oh right. We’re using our made up names.” she whispered, giggling heading towards the Cantina.

He stood there for a second, looking you up and down. You knew him well enough behind the mask to notice what he was doing. “Don’t fucking even,” you scoffed, following the bubbly girl into the Cantina. “Don’t what?” he asked, following you confused into the loud bar.

You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes. Making your way to the bathroom, you shook Din’s hand off of yours trying to gain your attention. “Please,” you yelled a little too loudly, yanking your hand away and making a bee line towards the restroom.

You slammed the stall door shut and waited for the heavy beskar boots to follow you in. He wasn’t the type to leave you. Ever. You waited.

And waited.

And waited. And they never came.

Sitting on the toilet sobbing, you barely remembered Grogu was there. Another scratch on your chest reminded you that he was hungry.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” you sniffled, wiping your eyes and attempting to clean up your red face.

Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror felt stupid. You had so much pity for yourself. Your braid has become more loose than it was this morning. Strands of loose hair rested next to your face. Your boots had mud on them. Now was not the time to be critiquing yourself but you couldn’t help it. How could you not? Natalie was beautiful, more pretty than you’d ever be. Right?

This time Grogu let out a small growl and you gave in. Turning the corner, you were grabbed near the exit and thrown back into the bathroom.

Laying on the floor confused, you looked up at your attacker. A giant creature with blue horns stared down at you with a smirk on his face.

“I saw that pretty bag of coins on your wrist, ma’am.” he scowled, pointing his long knife down at you. “I would appreciate if we did this the easy way.” he said cracking his neck in both directions.

The blade rested on the middle of your chest. Grogu, being the curious creature he is poked his head out of your swaddle you had made him.

“Well well well, what is this?” he asked, moving the knife to bump the scarf you had around your chest. “I think I will be taking both.” he smiled, revealing his yellow crooked teeth.

Panic flashed your mind as you rolled over, shielding Grogu from his grasp. He let out a loud yell in anger and didn’t hesitate to swipe his dagger at your shoulder, leaving a pretty nasty cut.

“Fuck!” you yelled out in pain, holding the open wound.

Grogu being the good boy he is (he deserves another frog) rolled out of your grasp and waved his tiny hand in the air. The dagger flew from the attackers hand and right into your grasp.

“Good boy,” you whispered as you didn’t hesitate to stab the man near his groin. He cried out in pain as you twisted the knife, then pulled it out. It was covered in purple blood.

You scooped up Grogu and made your way back into the crowded Cantina. You spotted Din with his elbow resting comfortably on the counter talking to Natalie.

“… and then Greef started to complain about-”

“We need to go.” you said in a low voice, grabbing his hand and pulling in the opposite direction. “What?” he asked. “What’s that?” Natalie asked loudly, pointing at the dripping dagger in your hand.

“Shut it for once, won’t you?” you yelled at her. A wave of concern flew over Natalie’s face. “Hey!” Din yelled, sticking his finger in your face. You had to ignore the intrusive thought to bite it.

A large roar came from the Cantina bathroom exit. Everyone’s eyes turned to the creature. “You little bitch!” the man yelled, meeting your eyes in the crowd.

“We need to go.” you ordered, slipping out of the entrance. Looking behind you and gripping Grogu close, you ran to the speeder. Din quickly followed without Natalie on his tail.

You straddled the speeder as you heard your attacker’s yells from behind you. He was a few feet behind Din. At that point, Natalie began to stumble out of the Cantina.

Din held up his hand, signaling for you to start the speeder. The wound on your arm throbbed. With one hand cradling a sleeping Grogu and the other on the speeder handle, you prepared for the worst.

Din made it just in time. “Go go!” he yelled, grabbing your waist tightly as you sped off. That man and Natalie were left in the dust.

The speeder tumbled as you reached the crest. You meant to get fuel on your way back, but that obviously didn’t get to happen.

As the two of you finally stopped, you sat for a moment in silence.

Finally, you flipped around. You handed Din a sleeping Grogu and turned to go back in the crest. Your face was stone cold.

“Are you okay?” Din asked wearily. He was most definitely not getting a response. You walked through the hatch and made it to the medical cabinet. It was funny, you had forgot you had put on a white shirt today and not a crimson one.

“Is that blood?” he asked, removing his helmet and setting Grogu inside of it. He liked to nap there sometimes, it was warm and smelt of his father.

“Why do you care? I’m surprised your not back on your speeder going to find Natalie.” you hissed, cutting your sleeve off to reveal the wound.

“Fuck!” you yelled as the bloody sleeve rolled down your arm. “What? Cy’are what happened?” Din asked, rushing to your aid. “Get away from me.” you hissed back at him, struggling to see straight. “Let me help.” he demanded. “Go ffffucking find her.” you slurred.

Blood was definitely lost.

“Sit for gods sake.” he yelled, pulling up a chair behind you. He pulled out the bacta cream and bandages. “You b-better not fucking touch me Din Djarin,” you yawned.

Ignoring you, he wiped the blood away from the wound. It wouldn’t need stitches, but it would leave a nasty scar. He applied the cream and wrapped your arm up. “Too tight?” he asked, his eyes peering into yours.

“I don’t know why your so worried about me when we left Natalie out there.” you bitched. “Seriously Y/N, too tight or not.” he said ignoring your comment.

“You told her your name?” you slurred, the blood loss just beginning to regenerate.

“What? No. She heard you call me it last night.”

“Oh.”

“Why were you all over her? You could barely even speak to me. It’s obvious that you were just going to leave me somewhere and take her instead.” you mumbled, staring at your muddy and now bloodied boots.

“What?” Din asked, astonished. “What are you talking about, Cy’are?”

He bent down in front of you, his hands on both of your thighs. “Don’t lie,” you said, turning your head away from his. Tears began forming in your eyes.

“Your in love with her Din.”

Din wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your thighs. “You are dreaming, my love.”

“Then why did you-”

“I stayed with her because I thought you couldn’t stand her. I thought I was doing you a favor.” he explained.

I mean he wasn’t wrong.

“But what about-”

“Shh,” he shushed you. “I’m horrible but I’m glad we left her at the Cantina. I didn’t know how much longer I could have gone with her constantly at my hip. I couldn’t be with you, I was starting to loose my mind.”

You carefully grabbed a handful of his brown curly hair. You always forgot how soft it was, never being able to touch it under all that beskar.

“Really?” you sniffled, using your other hand to wipe the tear away.

“We have about another 45 minutes to get off this planet.” he hummed into your jeans, kissing your thigh before returning upright.

“I can’t believe you thought I liked her better,” Din scoffed, now towering over you.

“You let her use your blaster?” you questioned. “She grabbed it.” he sighed, laughing at your question. “So am I allowed to touch it now?” “Absolutely not.”

“But why did you ignore me then? Not even anything. No good morning kiss or sleeping in the same bed or…” “Oh.” he sighed. “I thought you wanted to keep it quiet? Not let her know. I’m sorry,”

“I’d let the whole galaxy see you touch me,” you mumbled. A smile rose to Din’s lips.

His hand turned to your cheek, cupping it ever so lightly. His thumb brushed over your lips. He bent down, giving you a soft kiss on your tear stained lips.

“You over anyone, cy’arika. How I’ve missed you.”

•

yes don’t worry grogu was fed he is well taken care of don’t call cps trust me he got all the frogs and eggs he wanted after that day

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @salliebley @peeta-is-useless @bubsonnobx @kirsteng42

bonus:

You lay in his warm grasp for the first time in over a week. His warm skin rested on yours. The hum of the open galaxy surrounding the ship filled your ears. Din’s messy hair sat on him well. His arms ran across your bare chest, holding you with ever such ease. His breaths became more shallow with each second.

“Hey,” he whispered groggily in your ear, pulling you closer. “Mhm,” you replied, pushing yourself into his embrace. You were expecting an ‘I love you’ or ‘I missed your body’ or something romantic.

“Did you remember my nuts? The dragon berry ones?”

“God dammit Din,” you sighed, closing your eyes.

“Did you remember?” he asked, sitting up in bed and peering down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“No Din. I forgot your fucking nuts.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for refusing to help my friend out financially after they got a new dog even though they need financial help often and are currently in debt?

Everyone is this story is mid to late 20s.

I have a friend in America who is on social benefits. So I know they don't have a lot of money. I'm also not rich but I earn minimum wage in my country and can afford to pitch in a little sometimes which I don't mind doing generally. I'm also not a big spender at all and I'm able to save up something every month.

In the past I've helped them with buying groceries and even gave them some so they could buy a laptop for art commissions and some games. I don't mind doing that at all. When their old dog got sick I helped out as well. Since I figure some people are going to want to know, in the last 5 years I have given maybe about 2000 dollars.

They got a new dog after the old one passed, which I get. A dog can be a good companion. I did find it a little irresponsible to get a new puppy when they at the time needed several hundred dollars for rent. I told them it might be better to wait until they where no longer in debt with their landlord before getting a new dog. They told me they understood my concern but they got the puppy for free from a friend so it would not be a big deal and they would be able to feed the puppy.

I did tell them puppies can get sick and end up costing a lot more than anticipated but they told me they were willing to take that risk and I decided to not push any further. I had given my opinion and there is not much else I can do. I did tell them not to count on my help financially especially since I had some things of my own that needed fixing and they told me they understood and not to worry.

But then a few weeks later the puppy ate their medicinal weed, which for some reason was within reach of a puppy, and had to get it's stomach pumped and stay overnight at the vet clinic for a few nights.

They came to me and asked if I could help out with the bill and how they would pay me back in part. The bill was over 4000 dollars. I told them sorry but no I can't. First of all, I don't even have that much, I'd have to take out a loan. Second, I warned them this could happen and that I would not be able to help out financially. They seemed a little pissed at that but I just thought it was because of the stress of the situation. They said they would try and get the funds elsewhere and asked me to share it around, which I did.

Unfortunately they didn't manage to get enough to pay the vet and ended up having to give the puppy to a shelter. It's a cute and calm pup so I have no doubt it will be adopted out quickly but it's still sad and I do feel for my friend. But now I'm being blamed for it. I've been getting several angry messages from mutual friends about how I'm the reason my friend lost their emotional support and how I'm the reason they are having a breakdown and suicidal thoughts.

I feel really badly for my friend but I also don't think it's fair to put the blame on me. The reaction from my online friend group makes me feel like I'm missing something that does make me the asshole.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 20

Part 19

There was no other way to describe it, Eddie thought as he literally watched Steve sitting under a tree with Robin, laughing at something she said. Spring had not only come to this land, but to the prince as well. Like a flower in bloom, he was open and inviting. And everyone longed to be like the sun, having that flower turn to face them. At least, that was the thought that crossed Eddie’s mind and surely everyone else felt the same way.

He teased the kids more, ruffling their hair, and even allowing himself to be the but of the joke at times. He and Robin turned out to be thick as thieves, which Eddie could have never predicted. All this because he had been allowed to roam the town.

Yesterday, Eddie happened to spy a hickey peeking from the top of Steve’s collar and could deny it no longer. He had found a lover. Steve had found a lover. Perhaps even more than one. After all, there was no reason to limit himself to just one. The fact remained though that someone was making him glow with their affections. 

Someone out there was kissing him, whispering sweet things in his ear, telling him how lovely he was-SNAP

Eddie looked down to the broken quill in his hand. 

“Something on your mind?”, Gareth asked, returning a book on one of his shelves.

Eddie wriggled his fingers and brushed the broken quill away, careful not to smudge what he had just been writing. “No. Nothing at all”, he lied. 

Gareth waited patiently for him to continue, knowing he would. In the meantime, he grabbed another book and sat on the other side of Eddie’s desk.

“Steve has been going out often, hasn’t he?”

“About every other night, yes. Are you regretting giving him that freedom?”

“Well…”, Eddie struggled for only a second to think of a reason. “What if Nancy’s right?” He pushed off from his desk and stood, going to the window behind him. Thankfully Nancy was in a neighboring town, otherwise he’d fear she would actually materialize out of thin air.

“About the prince conspiring with townsfolk?”

“Or a spy. Anyone really. We just don’t know.”

Gareth sighed. “Time to put on my ‘Nancy hat’. Why don’t you send someone to follow him and see?”

The last thing Eddie wanted to see was Steve actually in the middle of the deed. But going along just far enough to make sure no other liaisons were happening was just his duty as a king, wasn’t it? He had to protect his people. And if Steve was only just meeting lovers, well he should feel confident enough to bring them back to the castle to introduce to everyone, shouldn’t he? If they weren’t conspirators anyway.

Eddie found the resolution to do so just a few nights later. He and Robin were relaxing in a sitting room, sipping together after having sent the kids to bed a couple hours ago. That was when Steve came in and draped himself on the couch Robin was sitting on with a dreamy sigh.

“Let me guess”, she said. “The woodcarver’s son?”

“You know me a little too well for how short we’ve known each other”, Steve said, bringing his head to her lap.

Eddie was sitting on the couch opposite them, leg propped up on the armrest. He didn’t like the way Steve didn’t even seem to notice he was there.

“You’re late”, he said, sitting up.

Steve turned just his head to look at him. “I know, I’m sorry. But it’s not always easy to get away.”

Robin snorted. “You mean clean up takes forever?”

“Don’t be crass”, Steve scolded lightly. “And I’ll have you know, Jason is the perfect gentleman. He always helps me clean up afterward.”

Eddie knew of Jason, the son of a woodcarver. Diligent in his work, a leader among the youth in town. His face was…fine, Eddie had to admit. He certainly wasn’t plotting to take Eddie’s kingdom down, that was for sure. Born and raised here, Jason only stirred up trouble a couple of times the way kids typically did. He had no reason to mistrust him.

And yet…

As the night went on, Steve and Robin continued to talk about him. Apparently Jason first saw him at the festival when he competed in the games. They talked a lot about athletic pursuits. Wood carving wasn’t for the soft of hands after all. Robin asked about others Steve had met with. Faith, Gabriella, Harris, but it always came back to Jason. 

He must be Steve’s favorite. Which meant that Eddie had to see what the big deal was about. On top of all the other reasons he’d come up with before too, of course. Steve didn’t go out the next night or the one after. But the third night, he did and Eddie followed. He traveled in the shadows until they got to town, then shifted to a bird. His usual form would have been instantly recognizable at this point, so he went with a starling appearance tonight.

Steve tied his horse to a post and went into a tavern. Eddie perched on a window just long enough to see Steve immediately sit down with a young woman. So not Jason. He waited by the door for someone to go through and flew in, staying aloft in the rafters and close to the edges of the ceiling. He got right above their table to listen in. She seemed a sweet lady, but looks could be deceiving.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight”, Steve said. “I thought your family needed help at home this week?”

“I was able to get away”, she said. “Are you…disappointed?”

Steve reached out and touched her cheek. “How could I be when I am gifted with your presence?”

She melted in his touch and Eddie had seen enough. There was nothing shady going on, so he had no reason to stay. He went back home, but spent about an hour, pacing about in his room, trying to find explanation for why he was so agitated. Steve hadn’t lied. Hadn’t gone against them. Which meant he got to say ‘I told you so’ to Nancy when she got back. The night after that, Eddie sat down in his chair, ready for story time but was off most of the evening. El was the one to point it out.

“Why do you keep looking at the door? Are you expecting someone?”

“This late?”, Lucas asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of twitchy all night”, Dustin added.

“No I haven’t, and it’s fine”, Eddie brushed them off. He knew it was because of Steve. If these kids knew, they wouldn’t stop until they got to the bottom of why. And Eddie wasn’t ready to face the why. 

It wasn’t until Robin spoke up later, once the children were sent off that he got the kick in the pants to find out the truth.

“They’re right you know. You were twitchy.”

“You know I can’t stand still for more than a minute”, Eddie said in his defense.

“Yeah, but this is different. It’s like…”, then she snapped her fingers. “How Mike gets when Will would rather spend time with Lucas.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. They had been teasing Mike about his not so secret crush for a while now. To be compared to that…

The only way to prove he wasn’t jealous was to see Steve actually be with someone and have no problem with it, right? He had walked in on more than one of his servants entangled with each other. It was a big castle, places for secret rendezvous were numerous. He’d even happened on Dustin stealing a kiss from a girl in town once. He felt nothing when watching others share their affections. So Steve shouldn’t be any different. 

Eddie hadn’t disciplined Steve when he came back late, so he got more bold with his curfew. He always returned to lay his head in the castle, Eddie noticed, but he didn’t rush back as the sun set either. One day he left as the sun was dipping low, giving the last bits of light as he traveled on the path from here to town. 

Eddie followed, in his raven form this time as pitch black wings were better for camouflage in the night. And Steve may recognize this form, but even if he saw him, surely he wouldn’t put two and two together. There was more than one raven in the world, they couldn’t all be Eddie. When Steve dismounted, the tavern was just a quick stop. He tied the horse to a post and then went across the street. 

He watched the prince chat up a candlemaker, seemingly having just a nice conversation before leaving to go somewhere else. Eddie was about to follow when his bird’s eye view allowed him to see a child sitting in an alley, legs hugged to their chest. He flew down and pecked at their shoe to get their attention.

A nice shoe, not an orphan, probably just lost. The kid seemed down on themselves and after Eddie played around to get their spirits up (making funny bird noises, puffing his feathers up, tugging at their hair) he was able to lead them out of the alley. Feeling less hopeless, the child called out for their parents and Eddie helped to get attention by squawking from their shoulder.

A man ran up and scooped up the kid, grateful for having found him. Eddie took his leave then, but had unfortunately lost Steve. He knew he wasn’t at the pub, so his only lead was the woodcarver’s. That was where he flew and sure enough, when he perched on the roof, he heard something from behind it.

A soft sound, just a low ‘mmf’ that anyone else still on the street or in their homes wouldn’t be able to pick up. He walked across the roof and the posterior of the shop was lit by just a single lantern hung from a rung. He peered down, almost hanging upside down to see Steve, legs wrapped around Jason while he was sat upon some crates. Steve let out another quiet moan and Jason gave him a gentle shush.

“It’s the evening hour, you’ll wake everyone up if you’re too loud”, Jason smiled while continuing to thrust into him.

Steve pressed his lips together to keep from making too much noise. His eyes were unfocused as they looked up, suddenly gaining focus and gasping when he noticed the bird watching them. Eddie remained frozen. If he left now that he’d been spotted it would practically confirm his identity. Steve tightened his hold on Jason. His panting picked up as he got closer and Jason stuck two fingers into his mouth.

The prince groaned and for just a moment, Eddie imagined what wonders Steve was doing with his mouth. Was he simply sucking or did his tongue lick between the digits? Eddie knew he should leave, it was only decent. But Steve’s gaze kept him tethered to where he was. His eyes only closed when he started to cum, Jason pushing and pulling a few more times before he did as well. 

Steve was floating. Jason pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his shirt. He was saying something as Steve came back into himself but he wasn’t sure what. The bird had flown away.

Part 21

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[artificialbreezy]

hehehehehehe

Hi 🥺

Today is 4/20... Some Folio's smutty smutty thoughts related to this?

Idk if you're comfortable writting about this stuff... If you don't feel like it just ignore this and I'm sorry 🥺

happy 420 to those who celebrate! now i KNOW Noah won the blurb vote but please enjoy the first blurb of the weekend. (sorry if this is extra rambly i am in fact zooted)

CW: drug use (just weed)

NSFW under the cut ◡̈

idk dude i am convinced Nick gets extra talkative when he’s high and he knows you love when he talks you through it. so like maybe everyone’s hanging out the afternoon of 420 and you’re starting to feel needy after the second joint Nick gave you in the last 2 hours but you can’t interrupt, no no. you’re too shy and inside your head to bring it up to your boyfriend. he knows though, he can read you like a book. he sees your eyes linger on him longer than usual, he notices how you watch his hands when he lights the bowl on the bong, he notices your legs crossing a little harder than normal when he watches you.

fast forward everyone’s half asleep on the couch and Nick comes up behind you, leans down and whispers. “head to our room, i have something for you.” you obviously excuse yourself from the group, claiming your head feels too heavy and you just wanna lay down. no one questions when Nick follows behind you. they all assume he’s being an attentive partner.

what they don’t know is as soon as that bedroom door closes, Nicks on you in seconds. his hands are all over you, his tongue is exploring your mouth and he’s backing you up until you hit the bed. he pulls your pants off in a swift movement and groans when he sees the wet mark on your panties.

“need it, Nick..”

“you need it, huh?” his tones laced with mock sympathy before it darkens. "you're such a whore. but only for me, right? just need me to fill you up huh?”

a mix of lust and shame rushes through you, all through your veins and burning you on the inside. because, he’s right: you are a whore, getting so hot and bothered in front of all his friends and all but begging him to fuck you while they’re all outside the room, at any time could walk in.

"cmon, honey, tell me," he demands, his voice is low, just above a whisper and that makes your pussy flutter around nothing. his fingers threatening to push into your aching hole. his expression doesn’t change, but you know he likes that he can get you dumb before he’s even inside you.

“uh huh, your whore Nicky.” your brain all but crying.

his finger finally pushing inside of you. “thats right," he says, pulling his finger almost fully out. “my good, little whore.”

[stars1997]

Lover Boy - Part 1

Warnings: None

Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?

________________________________________________

“Hey guys today’s media day as you know, we gotta get our roster shots. We have a new photographer so do me a favor, be nice to her, she’s ullmarks sister.” I heard Brad Marchand say from inside the locker room. A series of cat-call whistles went off in the locker room before I heard my brother clear his throat. I roll my eyes. Here we go, I think to myself. “Completely off limits to every single one of you. Don’t even think about it.” He says. The whistles continue and I let out a laugh a little louder than needed. The locker room went silent. “I guess I’ll come in now,” I said, stifling the giggles from seconds ago. “As you guys know I’m Y/n Ullmark, your new media girl. So if you guys could suit up and head out to the hallway in 20 that would be great!” I say, and just before walking fully out of the locker room, I saw someone I recognized, Swayman. The last time I saw him was when he first got signed and became best friends with my brother. He looks a little older now. We locked eyes, he gave a smile and a wave which was returned before I headed to the hallway to set up. I set up my camera stand, the lights, and the background as the guys were lining up. A few of the boys jokingly hit on me, but I took it lightly. I could tell I was going to love this job. I was down to the last two guys which were Pasta and Sway. After photoing Pasta it was just me and Sway in the hallway. “Y/n, it’s been so long. How was school?” He asked. “Ah, he speaks. School was awesome but it definitely had its ups and downs. I’ve been keeping up with stats, you guys have been doing really well. Are you excited to be in net for the rangers game tomorrow? I hear they’ve got a new bruiser, Matt something?” I asked while fixing the lighting for his photo. “Matt Rempe, yeah I’ve heard of the kid. Make sure you get my good side tomorrow. No bad angles.” He joked. I laughed and playfully pushed him into position for the photo. I snapped a few good headshots for the roster and some full body for the Instagram, which I now run. Most of the photos weren’t usable since he kept making silly faces at the camera but those were the photos I knew the fans would adore. After taking his pictures he walked back to the locker room and I started putting away the lights and backdrops. This took longer than I thought it would. Almost all of the boys had left by the time I was almost done putting it all away. “Hey, Y/n do you need any help with all of that?” Sway asked from down the hallway, walking out of the locker room in jeans and a flannel, while putting on his hat, flipping so it's backwards. “Oh no its okay, I’m almost finished.” I responded with a smile. “Are you sure, its really no bother.” He said. “Y/n, is this guy bothering you?” My brother asked, stifling a chuckle as he walked down the hallway towards us. “Hey Bubba, Sway asked me to go get drinks with him, would you mind putting the lights and tripod in the closet?” I asked my brother sweetly, watching Jer’s face drop into a puzzled expression out of the corner of my eye. “Wait, what I-“ My brother started. “Thank youuuu.” I interrupted, grabbing Sway's hand and pulling him toward the exit. I turned around to see my brother still standing there shocked. “No need to worry bubba its just as friends, promise.” Once we walked about of the arena I let go of his hand. “Alright tendy, where are you taking me for drinks?” I asked as we make the short walk over to his truck. “Well, since I don’t have much of a choice I was thinking Brock’s bar. Have you ever been?” He asked unlocking the doors and opening his own. I opened mine and grabbed the handle at the top to pull myself in. “Oh come on Jer don’t act like you don’t love my company. I’ve been once or twice but I don’t really remember those nights honestly.” I joked, and we both laughed at the hard truth while he started the truck.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Rooster, angst, sand and “Who did this?”💕

Ooooh I loved this one SO much. I may just have to revisit it in the future..

Hope you like it!

----

warnings: angst, physical violence against women, gross men

One Call Away

Bradley throws open the door to the Bronco, nearly tripping over himself as he jumps out of the vehicle. He’s taking off out of the parking lot and down the hill to where you said you were before the door is even done slamming behind him. You had texted him an SOS along with a pin of your location nearly 20 minutes ago, and hadn’t answered your phone when he had called you almost immediately after receiving it. You hadn’t responded to any of his follow up texts either, and he had broken every speed limit on the way here. He didn’t know what was going on, but you needed him, so he had to get to you. You had been his best friend for longer than you hadn’t, and he had been in love with you for nearly just as long, even if you were oblivious to that. He would always come when you called. 

The beach is dark and empty of other people, but he spots your figure near the shore line almost instantly; he never had issues finding you, even in the most crowded of rooms. You’re sitting with your arms wrapped around your drawn up knees and Bradley doesn’t slow down until he’s close enough to hear you crying and see that you’re trembling. You're in nothing but a thinly strapped dress and while it’s not cold, the ocean air isn’t as warm as it could be, either. He’s slipping his Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and settling it over yours without a second thought. 

“Hey,” he says softly. Your shoulders tense in a way they never really have due to his presence alone, and Bradley is immediately on edge again. He sits down beside you in the sand slowly, so as not to startle you. He’s not oblivious to the fact that you haven’t looked at him yet. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” 

You borrow your face further into your knees. Bradley scoots a little bit closer, his body near flush against yours. “Can you look at me? Please?” 

Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, you raise your head to fulfill his request and look at him. Finally seeing your pretty eyes eases some of the tension he had been feeling at first, but then it returns tenfold. 

Bradley feels bile in his throat and fury immediately flood his veins when he sees the cut on your lip and bruise on your eye. But he can see how shattered you look, how scared and small you feel, and he does his best to keep his anger masked. He raises a hand slowly, making sure you can track every movement, and gently lays a hand on your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. Who did this to you?” 

“I had a date tonight,” you tell him. You wince as you try to send him a sarcastic smile. “It…didn’t go very well.” 

“A guy did this to you?” he asks. A tear slips down your cheek when you nod. 

“I told him I wanted to leave,” you say, whimpering when he ghosts his thumb over the darkening bruise at your eye, checking to make sure nothing was broken. He apologizes immediately. “And he got handsy. He paid for dinner, so I ‘owed’ him.” 

Several feelings go through him at once, each one worse than the last. He swallows past the lump forming in his throat, knowing he needs to ask. “Did he…did he go any further?” 

You understand what he’s asking and he lets out a sigh of relief when you shake your head. When you tell him you kneed him in the crotch and punched him back and made a run for it before he could take it any further, he feels pride swell through him. That’s his girl. 

“I just kind of ran. Then I realized how far away from home I was. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to call an uber or something because I had already met my quota of creepy men for the night, and I-” your voice cracks, and it’s like the emotions you had been pushing down, however futilly, bubble out of you. Sobs wrack your body and Bradley is pulling you close to him, enclosing you in his arms. Some of the tension he had been holding falls away when you don’t flinch or hesitate to wrap your arms tight around him. He lets you cry against him for as long as you need. When you apologize for disrupting his night, he’s shushing you immediately. 

“I’ll always come when you call me,” he promises with a kiss to your hair. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. I could be across the damn ocean, but I don’t care. I will always be here when you call. Okay?” 

You nod, and for a few minutes you simply exist together sitting in the cold sand, your cheek pressed to his chest and his resting against the top of your head. 

“I need his name, sweetheart,” he tells you, and when you go to protest, he shakes his head. “No man gets to put his hands on you and get away with it. His name. Please.” 

With a sigh, you utter a first and a last name. Bradley tenses for a moment when it’s one he recognizes from Top Gun. A steely determination fills him and he files it away, pressing another kiss to your hair. 

“I’ll take care of it. Come on, let’s get you home, okay?”

word count: 920

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 19: ‘Cause You’re The Reason Love Comes Easy

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

A/N: Chapter title is from the song Nights Like This by St. Lundi

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: a little hurt/comfort, flirty Jake (yes that is a warning), it’s mostly fluff this week, but lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 5.0k

Masterlist >> Part 18 >> Part 20

===

The recovery from the pain inflicted was long and arduous, and there were days where Bear was 10 seconds away from just saying ‘fuck it’ and quitting. But Jake was always there, offering both a steady presence and a shoulder for her to cry on in the midst of her frustration. He never judged her, and despite everything she did to try and push him away from her so that Jake, her Jake, didn’t see her like this, he wouldn’t budge from her side.

“Why are you still next to me?” She had asked him, eyes welling with tears as she struggled to take in another deep breath. “Why haven’t you given up on me?” Her voice was cracking under the strain it took her to try and draw a full breath and the weight of her feelings of failure. Walking for longer than an hour was too much of a strain on her lungs, and forget running. Her lungs burned at the thought and she was so close to bursting into tears, if only she could catch her breath.

It broke Jake’s heart to see her this way, this insanely strong woman reduced down to the foundation of her character, sitting amongst the rubble that was her life. He loved her. Every fiber of his being was drawn to her, had been since they had met, and now, watching her struggle physically hurt. “I haven’t given up because I love you,” he replied, wiping her tears away. “Because you went through all of this because of me, so I am here. And I will be here until you tell me to leave.”

Bear had nodded, grimacing as she took his offered hand and grunted when Jake pulled her to her feet. “I would do it again.” Her eyes were full of the same conviction that was clear in her voice, and Jake could help but smile sadly.

“In a perfect world darlin’, none o’ this would’ve happened,” he told her, holding her close, savoring her nearness in the privacy of the gym at 0200. “We’d already be together, you would kick my ass all the time and I’d love you more for it. Maybe we’d be on a date right now,” he mused aloud, smiling at his thoughts.

“Yeah? Where would you take me?” Bear glanced up, catching the tenderness shining in the green eyes above her. She could feel the love radiating from Jake, could feel it just as she felt the warmth of his body against hers, felt his arms wrapped around her waist and lower back.

Jake hummed, smiling at Bear. “You can never go wrong with the classics right? Movie then dinner, maybe a walk if we weren’t ready for the night to end just yet. That sound about right?” His heart hammered in his chest, just hoping he hadn’t read her wrong. “Maybe I’d kiss you for the first time too?”

But he hadn’t and if Jake hadn’t been holding her up, Bear’s legs might have given out on her. “It sounds perfect,” she admitted, grinning up at him. A hand wound its way up to cup the back of Jake’s head, pulling him close. “I love it. Definitely would have won you some points, Flyboy.” Bear knew that she had a wide grin on her face, mirroring the one Jake was giving her, and she couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him fiercely.

She felt Jake’s smile against her lips as he kissed her back, his arms tightening around her, like he feared she’d slip away from him if he didn’t keep her close. But unfortunately, the tight hold shot pain up her ribs, making Bear gasp, teeth coming down hard on his bottom lip. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Jake had immediately loosened his hold and would have completely stepped away if Bear didn’t place her hand on his jaw, steadying him and keeping him close.

“Jake, honey I’m okay. I promise,” Bear assured him gently. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but Jake didn’t look convinced. “Yeah.”

But his eyes were looking everywhere, falling on everything but her eyes. “Honey…” she trailed off when she caught sight of the tears on his cheeks and the evident pain rippling in the green eyes Bear had come to adore. “Talk to me.”

Jake swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. “You don’t need to deal with this. You have enough to work through.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence,” Bear’s tone was adamant, full of barely contained anger and softened considerably when she gently turned his face to look at her. “Jake, please. You’ve been here for me for a while now. Let me be there for you too.”

“I-I’m both relieved and terrified that you’re here,” he whispered, ducking his head to stare at the Navy logo on the sweaty t-shirt Bear wore. “I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t think I could handle that again.”

Bear closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion that slammed into her as she listened to his confessed words. “I fought to come back to you,” she told him softly. “I hope you know that, Jake. I thought about you the whole time they had me. I crawled into the memories of us while all of this,” she gestured up and down her body, “went on. I love you too much to let you go ever again.”

He chuckled, the sound wet but it was a chuckle nonetheless. “I know you love me. Those were the first words you said to me when you woke up, I never doubted that for a second.”

“Good.” Bear paused, taking the time to cradle his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs over his stubble-covered cheeks. When he leaned into her touch, she smiled, pressing a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because out of everything that happened, that is the most important thing. Not what happened to me. Not what that son of a bitch did. None of it. Just that we were finally ready to confess our love. Okay?” She held his gaze, eyes firm but glimmering with kindness and love for the man that had wrapped himself around her.

“Okay,” Jake finally replied, his voice hoarse and eyes so full of love that it was a miracle Bear was still standing. “But you have to admit darlin’, I did a damn fine job beatin’ him up.” His drawl was thicker now from the emotion waltzing through his head and heart, and Bear had never heard anything better.

She grinned, and it looked like a shark’s, all toothy and wide. “You did, Honey. You gave him the beating I wanted to give him but couldn’t.” Pressing a quick kiss to his nose, Bear’s smile softened considerably. “You are my… everything, Jake. Remember that.”

Jake took a shuddering breath, burying his face in her neck as he held her close. He had waited so long for a mere confirmation that the depth of Bear’s feelings matched his, and now? Now it felt like he could see the light through the darkness that had surrounded them both. He felt unstoppable, something he hadn’t felt since before he had met the woman in his arms. “God, I really can’t win, can I? I said I’d love you through it all, and here you are, promisin’ me your everythin’.”

Her answering words fell on his deafened ears as Jake just let himself savor the feeling of Bear in his arms. “You’re my everything too,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“I know,” Bear murmured, running a hand up and down his back. “God forbid I ever forget that.”

Jake pulled back, catching the glimmer in her eyes as she watched him. His heart always beat like crazy when he was around her, so afraid of ruining this little piece of solitude for themselves. Right now? Now it was calm, knowing deep down, even if his brain didn’t, that Bear was just as much his as he was hers. Being around her now, being held by her, was a balm for a wound he didn’t know existed, a candle in darkness. Bear was his salvation. “I know you won’t. Because I never plan on being away from you long enough for you to forget.”

His words pulled Bear from the depths of her mind, forcing her to inhale sharply. She had been so worried for him, for how she had affected him, that she never stopped moving long enough to realize how much he had affected every piece of her. ‘Bewitched her body and soul’ as Jane Austen had once written, and heaven help the person that ever tried to break them apart. “Jake…” she breathed. “You smooth fucker.”

A boyish grin shot back in her direction made her shake her head. “Gotta keep you on your toes huh, Teddy?”

“Doesn’t mean you need to pull the rug out from under me everytime,” Bear shot back, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Well how else am I gonna justify this?” She looked confused until she found herself up in his arms, bridal style in a sudden swoop. “You’re a serious lady, Teddy. Someone’s gotta make sure you have fun sometimes.” His smirk set butterflies racing through her stomach and all Bear could do in that moment was smack his chest and laugh when he stumbled back in feigned pain.

“Tease,” she replied, laughing. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hmm…” Jake pretended to think, as he carried her down the deserted halls. “Take me to bed and love me forever?”

Bear smacked him again, giggling. “Well considering that I am having trouble walking for longer than an hour, and we can forget about running, the first option isn’t really an option right now.”

“Shame,” Jake replied, lowering his voice to a near growl, the Southern drawl more prominent than it had ever been. It made him grin when he felt the shiver that raced down Bear’s spine, his chuckle sounding from deep within his chest. “Seems I have plans for later then.”

“Asshole,” Bear grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to will her blush away. “Why do I put up with you?”

Jake hummed. “Because I’m your everything and you love me?”

“Yeah. I did say that.”

===

Somehow, through the banter and teasing, Jake managed to carry her back down the halls to her room without being seen. Which was a feat in and of itself because Jake kept making Bear laugh, her giggles bouncing off the walls in a sharp turn around from how she had been feeling earlier that night. “Jake,” Bear whispered, eyes shining with mirth. “Just put me down.”

“Nope. Not until we are in your room.”

“Come on, someone could be coming around the corner at any time.” Bear was almost pleading, but it wasn’t in a bad way. She really just wanted to avoid more awkward questions from Bug about how Jake was affecting her. They had discussed at length Bear’s next steps while she was still recuperating in the medical bay, including talking through the email Bear would send to Admiral Harris informing him of her threat. He had merely replied with a meeting time, telling her that he wished to speak with her as soon as she was able. Bear wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be anything other than a recommendation that she take a leave from the Navy, maybe a session or two with a psychologist. The thought made her stomach lurch but that was for future Bear to deal with. Present Bear had to convince Jake to put her down. “Honey please.”

“Fine,” Jake grumbled, begrudgingly placing her feet back on the ground. But his hands shot out seconds later to catch her when Bear wobbled slightly. “I’m not judging if you need help, Teddy.”

“I know. But I need to learn to do this on my own. Those bastards won’t take my life away from me, Jake,” she told him, sending him a soft look. “But I appreciate you helping me.” She pushed her door open, motioning for him to follow her.

And he did. Because if there was any word to describe Jake near Bear, it was soft. Bear brought out a gentler side of him, which was strange, given how he’d nearly beaten a man to death for her, but that was besides the point. “It’s not a problem. You’d do the same for me.” Jake had flicked the light on after he’d shut the door, allowing him to see the room he had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. “Besides, it means I get to spend more time with you.”

She smiled at him, tossing him the sweatpants he’d tucked under her bag the morning before, and laughing as they hit his chest and landed on the floor. “Come on Flyboy, you already have me. You don’t need to keep using the lines,” Bear teased, as she rifled around for her own pyjamas.

“But what if I like using the lines?” Jake tossed back, swiftly changing out of the uniform he’d been wearing for most of the day and into the sweats that now lay on the floor. “You blush such a pretty pink when I do.” He was shamelessly checking her out now as Bear stepped out of her basketball shorts and into her sleep shorts.

True to his words, Bear’s face was hot and a brilliant pink. “Shut it,” she grumbled, clearly embarrassed by her reaction. She had been struggling with her shirt for the last few weeks, finding it hard to lift her arms over her head. “A little help?” She asked, turning around to face Jake. “This fucking shirt is clinging to me.”

Jake grinned, stepping closer. “Well now, we can’t have that, can we? That’s my job.” He was teasing her again, unable to resist the joy it brought him to see her fumble over her words.

“Jerk.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.” Bear was smiling at him again, her whole being seeming softer in the yellow light of the desk lamp Jake had turned on. “Now can you please help me with my shirt?”

His hands pulled her closer by her hips, before slowly slipping under the hem of her compression shirt. Jake took special care to guide her right arm out through the sleeve first before moving to the injured left side, pressing a gentle kiss to each shoulder as the material was removed. “You okay?” He asked, grabbing the oversized t-shirt that she slept in.

“I’m fine Jake,” Bear told him in exasperation. “I just want to sleep. My everything hurts.” Her eyes flickered over the furrow of Jake’s brow, before slowly lifting her tired arm up to smooth away the creases. “I promise I’d tell you if you hurt me.”

Standing before him half-clothed made her stomach swoop and Bear bit her lip as her shirt slipped over her head, gentle hands guiding it down her body. Jake’s touch left a trail of goosebumps in their wake and she shook her head at him, placing a hand on his bare chest to stop his movements. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jake told her, resting his hand over hers. “I don’t think I've ever been better.” He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own, grinning against her lips.

Bear sighed into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed at the mere press of his mouth on hers. She nearly whimpered when he pulled back, chasing his lips to kiss him again. “It’s late,” she whispered. “Come on Flyboy.”

He followed her lead, letting her settle into the bed before slipping in after her, curling almost protectively around her as they lay facing one another. “You’ve got me stuck, Teddy. Ain’t never wanted to stay stuck on something ‘til I met you,” Jake mumbled, shuffling closer and pulling her to him. He’d rolled over at some point, letting Bear mold herself to his side as she rested her head on his broad chest, his hand combing through her loose hair absentmindedly.

“You sap.” Bear cuddled closer to Jake, reveling in the warmth that just radiated off of him. “But you’re lucky I love saps.”

Jake hummed low in his throat, grinning as he felt Bear smile at the vibration rippling under her ear. In the darkness of her room, Jake let himself mumble “I did get lucky. You gave me a second glance.”

And if he drifted off first, leaving Bear to swallow back the lump in her throat, she wouldn’t tell a soul. He loved her, and she loved him with a ferocity not unlike that in which she fought to return to him. “Of course I looked twice. I saw you,” Bear whispered into the darkness, sleep nipping at her heels and finally pulling her under its wake.

===

The next morning, Bear woke up with an arm slung over her waist, her back against something solid, and the feeling of someone breathing against the back of her neck. Her eyes had just blinked open, adjusting to the light in the room, and she shifted back, her head bonking into the one behind her. “Shit,” Bear whispered, turning slowly to face Jake. “God I hope I’m not hallucinating again. I can’t handle it if this isn’t real.”

“Hmmm?” Jake mumbled, pulling Bear closer and burying his head against her shoulder. “What time isssit?” In just a short breath, he’d dispelled every fear she’d had about waking up alone. Simply because she wasn’t alone, and Jake was here.

Bear grinned, running a hand through his blonde hair and messing it up even more as she watched his eyes flutter under her gesture. “Too damn early,” she whispered back.

“Then why’re you awake?”

“I don’t know.” Blame the Navy for making it so she could never sleep in, but if she woke up to this sight every morning, she’d gladly wake up early every morning. Jake’s hair was fluffy and askew, flattened on one side from the pillow, and standing on end on the other. It was enough to make Bear giggle quietly as she took in the sleepy smile he gave her as she continued to comb her fingers along his scalp, watching as he sunk deeper into the bed. “But I’m not mad about it.”

Fingers that had snuck up her shirt tightened their grip, pulling her even closer so their chests were pressed together. “Me…. Neither,” he yawned. Green eyes met brown and her heart soared at how a mere glance made it seem like everything was and would be okay. “You’re starin’, Teddy.”

“Can you blame me? You’re pretty in the morning.”

“Only in the mornin’?” His voice was a deep, rasping thing and it sent sparks racing through her blood. “Darlin’ don’t tease.”

“‘M not teasing,” Bear replied, a yawn nearly splitting her head in two.

“I think you are,” Jake shot back, a smirk wiping the sleepiness from his face. “You’re a real minx, Teddy, ya know that?” He’d rolled from his side to his back, chuckling at the gasp Bear let out at the position change now that she sat straddling his hips.

“Jake!”

“What? Always knew you’d be pretty from down here,” Jake continued, hands bracketing her hips, holding her still.

Bear was stuck in a state of shock at just how suddenly he’d moved her. How it had taken next to no effort for him to shift positions. “This fucking rib,” Bear thought angrily, “If it weren’t for this, we have have done something by now.” But she swallowed that thought and leaned down, bracing her hands on either side of his head. “Did you now? You think about that a lot, Flyboy?”

“Oh darlin’, if you only knew,” he answered honestly, watching the light flicker in her eyes that were oh so close. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Bear’s face went pink again. “Shut it.”

“Nope. And if I were a betting man, I’d wager that you do the same.”

“Confident, are we?” He was right, of course, but Jake didn’t need to know that.

He hummed in agreement, a hand leaving her hip to gently caress her cheek, pulling her down for a sweet kiss that had Bear sighing against his mouth. Everything about the kiss was lazy, no one fought for dominance, there was none. Just pure love filling both of them, slipping through their blood in a way that made two hearts sing as one. It was simple, and it was innocent, but it was just them. Just Bear and Jake savoring the moment of peace that they had.

Pulling back, Jake watched Bear’s eyes blink open, smiling at the brief haziness of them before she pressed another kiss to his mouth. “I heard what you said when you woke up, about hoping this wasn’t a dream.”

Her face fell, as the hazy memories of her hallucinations spun through her mind. The infection of her wounds had ravaged her body, creating delusions that included moments like this one, but those weren’t real. She’d woken up alone on the cold and dingy floor of a compound that was hundreds of miles from where Jake was with a sinking feeling in her chest.

This, however, couldn’t be more different. Jake was warm and solid under her, his calloused hand cupping her cheek and winding into her hair. She could feel the rise and fall of his bare chest under a hand that skated over the exposed skin. “You did?” She whispered, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I did.” Jake didn’t know what she had seen, what she had gone through, or what she had done to get back to him, but it didn’t matter to him. He was here and would continue to be there for her whether she chose to tell him what happened or not. “But,” he paused to press a kiss to her forehead, “I’m here. Ain’t leavin’ without a fight.”

Bear nodded, eyes welling up with tears at his silent understanding of her pain. “I know.”

“Come here, darlin’. I need to cuddle my girl.”

===

The only surprise that came while still in Riyadh was the announcement that Chip had confessed to working with Hazard. The man had come with her to save Jake, to bring him home, and he had betrayed them. Bear had been furious at Chip for not only throwing everything for his family away, but also for herself and Jake.

While he hadn’t been among her Lieutenants, she had still trusted the man. How could she not have? He had been loyal through everything, one of the few men who remembered their old CO and supported her in her bid to become the new Commander of Seal Team 3. It cut her deep, deeper than the still-healing gashes in her skin that would leave permanent reminders of the acts committed with stolen information. Permanent reminders of the betrayal that had rotted out the very soul of her team.

But worse still, was the news that Hazard had threatened Chip’s family, his wife and daughter, in order to gain his cooperation. He had been collateral damage, sought after only for his technical knowledge and then forced to keep silent lest Hazard alert the men that were supposedly watching his home and family.

All of it had hurt her.

While she was glad that some of the information had been deciphered and uncovered, Bear hated the results. It was all too much and she didn’t know how much more of it she could take.

If it weren’t for Jake beside her, Bear would have descended on Hazard herself and ripped him limb from limb, committing an action befalling her callsign to the highest degree. Bear would have killed him, but Jake was able to sway her with gentle words and promises that the violence unleashed would not help her healing, that it would only make her pain worse.

And god fucking damnit he was right. So Bear wrote and wrote, filling page after page with her angry thoughts before setting them alight and watching the ashes spiral away and be carried through the Arabian night air. In the end, Chip had tried to protect his family, but it had resulted in him betraying his team. The realization was stunning and Bear found herself hating Hazard for far more than just what he had done to her. She hated him for threatening a now guilty man’s family to get him to comply with their demands. Hated him for being able to pull the rug over her eyes so easily.

Bear hated that she hadn’t known about any of this.

But Jake. Sweet, gentle, compassionate Jake had stayed by her side the whole time, held and consoled her through her angry tears and listened quietly and patiently as she ranted and raved about how she should have known. He never once made her feel like she was to blame, refuting every claim of the sort that she dared try to make.

He put her back together over and over through nightmares and panic attacks and so gently too that Bear was always afraid that if she touched him, that he would disappear in a cloud of smoke. But he never did and she thanked him at every chance she got, returning the favor when his own nightmares threatened to steal her away in the dark of the night. Yet, just like Jake and his immovable love for her, Bear remained there, soothing his fears just as he had done with her own.

===

The days passed quickly. Bear was slowly gaining strength, only letting her weakness be seen by Jake, and refusing to even entertain the idea of taking back her position as team leader. What she had done, regardless if it was warranted or not, and she knew it was, her actions were enough to warrant removal from her position or possibly discharge from the Navy.

But that would be worked out later. For now, she and Jake were locked in yet another mindless conversation that they were both taking entirely too seriously for the subject matter. “No!” Jake yelled from the floor of the gym. “They are not the same bird!”

Bear just stared at him. “They look identical! Why can’t they be the same bird?” She was just saying these things to wind him up, and while that may not normally be the smartest thing to do, it was just too much fun to resist. “A dove is just a fancy pigeon.”

Jake groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If they were the same, they’d have the same name! Just because one looks like the other doesn’t mean that-” he cut himself off, eyes narrowing at Bear, who was doing a terrible job at hiding her laughter. “You’re winding me up!”

“I’m sorry!” Bear wheezed out, having doubled over laughing after he’d called her out. “It’s too easy!”

Jake just shook his head, grinning. Bear was healing, laughing not causing her much pain anymore and the sight always made his heart swell. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I am.”

“Now who’s the sap?”

“Still you.” Bear watched him approach, kissing her gently. “Still always going to be you.”

Jake nodded. “Fair enough. I was meaning to ask. What are we?”

“What do you mean?” Bear asked, head tilting to the side. She had been under the impression that they were dating. Ever since she’d woken up, Bear had been calling him her boyfriend in her head, but if he didn’t… No, they needed to talk about that before she spiraled. “I thought that we were dating.”

“And I thought we weren’t quite there yet because of your job and how you’re still technically my boss.”

She nodded, heart sinking a little at his words. “Did you not… want us to be…?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean… Yes, I want us to be together. But I thought that we were waiting until we were stateside for that,” Jake explained, eyes wide in panic at the thought of Bear even coming up with the idea that he didn’t want her.

Bear visibly sagged in relief. “I was worried,” she admitted. “I hoped that we were thinking the same thing but I didn’t want to assume.”

“We are, Teddy. I promise.” And Jake meant every word of that promise. Bear was everything to him. “Why don’t we put a pin in defining this for now? We can talk about it when the logistics aren’t so complicated, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. God I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Honey.”

===

Two days later, Bear was overseeing her team’s transit from Riyadh back to the Abraham Lincoln at Jebel Ali. She’d arrived first, relying on Bug back at the Air Base for her information and watched the Daggers land from her place in the ship’s bridge for the moment. Jake had hitched a ride in the same helicopter as her, and was down on the deck helping out Phoenix and Bob in securing their jet.

She watched his blonde hair get tossed around by the wind through the port and took a breath. “This would be a challenge,” she thought. “Getting through this journey home without being attached at the hip.” But if they had managed on the way here, they could manage on the way back. Of that, she was certain.

Only when all the Seals had landed and were disappearing below deck, Hazard being thrown in a special guarded area of the ship, did Bear leave the bridge, running smack into Jake amid the hustle and bustle. It was her first day back in her uniform since her capture and Jake couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful she looked. “I’d really like to kiss you,” he mumbled as he moved to step past her down the narrow hallway.

Bear grabbed his wrist, squeezing it lightly. “We can’t. I’m still your boss, Flyboy. Just a bit longer, and then we can give this a go, okay?”

He nodded, sending her a small smile before slipping off down the hallway to his quarters, leaving Bear to find her own.

God damn this would be a long trip home.

===

A/N: 🥹 I will admit that this was my face while writing this beast of a chapter. Bug, big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 and @sarahsmi13s because I might have made one or two of them cry with this one. And I can’t forget @dakotakazansky for her help in ensuring that my underlying plot line is in place and still running strong.

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter seven: a conversation stuck in your throat

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir & ma’am), feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, likely poor spanish grammar, pining joel, DIRTY. TALK., sexting, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, POSSESSIVE!JOEL, lil splash of size kink, overstimulation (crying), consensual somno, praise kink up the wazoo, this chapter really speaks to the duality of man

6:00 AM

FROM: Joel 

Morning, mi Mariposa

I thought about you last night.

6:20 AM

Any chance you would come over early for me, sweetheart?

I really missed you when you were away.

Promise you can nap later.

In my bed.

6:23 AM

You could even sleep right away if you wanted.

Would you let me touch you while you were sleeping, darling?

Make you dream about me, and then when you wake up I’d be right there making you come.

Sounds nice, yeah?

6:45 AM

Mariposa

Sweet girl

Please wake up beautiful, I miss you.

I want you.

7:02 AM

Darling, I’m about this close to somehow climbing in your window and waking you up myself.

I’m aching for you, pretty girl. I keep hearing those sweet little sounds you make. You moaning my name or calling me sir.

I’m fucking leaking through my boxers at the thought of you.

7:20 AM

Mariposa, are you awake yet?

I don’t think I can wait any longer, sweetheart.

I need you so bad, mi diablita. I want to fuck you hard into my mattress. I want to fill you up, and then you can come on my cock after you ask me like the good girl I know you are.

You woke up a few minutes ago, your alarm blaring at 7:30 AM. Way earlier than you normally set it for, if you even set it during the summer, but you knew that Joel would be upset if you wasted a rare morning that he has alone.

When you picked up your phone and saw all the unread messages from him, the notifications made you smile. Scrolling through his messages, your smile turned into a smirk, satisfied with the way this man was on the verge of begging for you. It was a moment to savor — you knew as soon as you walked in his door that he would be making you plead for it. For his fingers, for his mouth, for his cock. Joel Miller loved to tease you, get you all worked up before he finally gave you what you wanted.

He always gave in, in the end.

7:34 AM

Joel, it’s Sunday morning.

The Lord’s Day.

And you’re sending me a bunch of dirty messages?

Scandalous!

7:34 AM

It’s my day to have you.

That proceeds any fucking guy in the sky.

7:35 AM

Soooo you’re gonna be mad if I tell you I’m getting ready for church?

7:35 AM

Mariposa, if you get over here right now I’ll make you see God.

No need for church.

Let me worship you, cielito.

Ten minutes later, you’re walking up to Joel’s door.

Your parents left for church early this morning, getting the first mass in so they could make it to the airport to pick up your brother. You sent your mom some excuse about hanging out with friends — something vague enough to not endure questioning but reason enough for your car to be home without you there.

Before your lifted hand can knock against the wooden door, it swings open to reveal Joel waiting with bated breath on the other side. It pulls a quiet giggle from your lips, the frantic look in his eyes, and the impatient tap of his foot.

“Were you waiting at the door this whole time, Joel?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrows, a grin pulling at your lips.

“No, ‘course not. I was keeping an eye on your front door from the couch. Just ran over when you were crossing the lawns,” Joel shrugs and brushes off the next look you give him, one that crinkles your eyes and spills a laugh from you.

“Adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Alright, enough laughin’ at me. Pretty sure that smug look is gonna be wiped off your face soon.” He smirks this time, taking one step to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you inside, closing and locking the door as he presses you up against it.

One hand holds you there at your hip, digging his thumb into the bone while the rest of his fingers bruise your skin from their tight grip. The other hand comes to rest against the wood next to your head, boxing you in. Looking down at you, he bends his head to trace his nose against yours, matching up your lips and hovering over the spot. Both of your mouths are slightly open, breathing slow exhales of warm air to each other.

It isn’t the first time he’s going to kiss you since you’ve seen him again. That was yesterday. But this moment feels different. Something stirs in your gut, as if it’s awakening from laying dormant while you were away from him.

“Been thinking of you all morning, darlin’,” his lips trail his humid breath across your cheek, his plush bottom lip grazing the skin at certain points. He settles next to your ear, speaking again with his voice with a low, syrupy, caramelly inflection, “Y’know, had a dream about you last night. Woke up so fucking hard. But I didn’t touch myself. Was waiting for the real thing.”

Teeth against the pulse point under your ear make you whimper, your legs buckling slightly from keeping them locked. Joel’s hand on your hip steadies you, his full body pressing against you and weighing you against the door.

“You gonna let me have it, sweetheart? Gonna be my good girl and let me take you over and over and over again until I’ve fucking spent everything I’ve been saving for you? Hm?”

 All you manage in response is a quiet moan, feeling his hard cock pressing into your stomach. You wiggle in his hold, another whimper that sounds more like a frustrated whine tumbling from your lips as you attempt to feel more of him.

“Nuh-uh. Gotta answer me, sweet girl. Are you gonna let me do that to you? Fuck you hard and rough and fill you up with me until it’s spilling out of you? You want that, mi diablita?”

“Yes yes yes, Joel. I want that. I want you, want your fingers, and-and your mouth. Fuck, I want your cock,” your head falls back with a thud on the surface behind you, eyes screwing shut as you try to calm yourself down from Joel’s thwarting.

“Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. What did I teach about manners last year? Gotta be polite if you want something.”

Your eyes snap open to be faced with Joel’s, darkened to a sable black. One corner of his mouth is lifted, the hand that was once resting on the wood moves to wrap around the front of your neck, using his thumb to tilt your chin up.

“Yes, sir. I want that, a lot. Please and thank you.” The last word comes out as a gasp muffled into Joel’s mouth as he kisses you deeply, immediately coaxing your mouth open and melting his tongue against yours. A moan strains from your throat as Joel grinds his bulge into you, boxers that he slept in tenting with a wet spot around his tip.

His hand at your hip shifts position, dragging up the curve of your side and taking the fabric of your shirt up with it. Under the wrinkles of material, his palm covers your breast, kiss paused for him to question you.

“Did ya wear somethin’ special for me, sweetheart? Feels like something real fancy here,” he punctuates with a squeeze of your breast, rough-working skin perking your nipple and causing you to keen with your head falling forward into the loose grip he has around your neck. He works to move your head up, meeting your eyes as he holds your chin up with an expectant look.

“Yes, sir. Wanted—” You are cut off with another squeeze to your breast, a leg of his pushing between your thighs and up against your center, “Wanted to look pretty for you. Since I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Joel’s grinning like a madman, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips that contrasts the dominating stance.

“Too good to me, Mariposa,” another kiss, “And you know you’re beautiful to me in anything you wear.” His tone is sincere — thoughtful and all heart. It sends a rush to that constant swirling in your stomach, raising that feeling to sit in the middle of your throat. He leaves you no space to respond, capturing your mouth in another heady kiss, pulling you away from the door with his arms circling around to rest one at your back on the band of your bra and the other at the nape of your neck.

“Upstairs,” he manages to get out once the two of you separate for a breath, guiding you back to the stairs. He unravels from you after a quiet huff of protest, encouraging push to your waist to turn around and climb the stairs. You move ahead of him, stumbling when he reaches out halfway up the staircase to grab at your thighs and stall you long enough to sink his teeth into the swell of your ass through the linen skirt you slipped on minutes ago in your bedroom.

“Joel! Christ, gonna make us fall down the stairs and get concussed,” you reach a hand back to swat him away, a whimper crawling out of your chest when he bites you again.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles as he finally lets you go completely, following you into his bedroom.

It’s a scramble of hands and limbs lifting and tugging to strip both of you down, Joel still in his boxers and you standing in the mesh cupped bra dotted with floral appliques and matching panties — both in a soft shade of Joel’s favorite color, purple. He steps back from you, hungry eyes canvassing your body in the lingerie before they flick up to your face and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Really was for me, huh? Got something in my favorite color?” He walks you back to the edge of his bed, your knees bending to sit when the creases of them hit the mattress,  a wide smile on his face with no hint of teasing, “You are my sweet girl. Always thinkin’ of others. Can I show you how much I appreciate you, Mariposa? How much I missed you when you were away?”

“Yes please,” you gasp when his hand reaches between your legs, pressing slow-moving circles into your clit through the wet fabric sticking to your cunt. He bends forward to kiss you as his fingers slip under the mesh material, coating themselves with your arousal and pressing them into your entrance one knuckle deep before pulling out.

“Joel—”

“Patience, darlin’. Just need to get you onto the bed more,” he chuckles against your lips before he pushes on the backs of your thighs to coax you further toward the center of his mattress. He climbs onto it over you, spreading your legs and peeling your panties from your legs. He discards them at the end of the bed, the careless toss landing them on the corner of the frame.

“Did you like my messages, sweetheart?”

“Yes—yes, I did.”

He hums as he takes you in, strong eye contact as he asks you, “Did you like the idea of me waking you up by making you come?”

You nod quickly, gasping when his thumbs brush your nipples through your bra.

“I did, I really liked it. You could do it — I want you to do it. I trust you.”

His hand finds itself back at your center, the same two fingers running through your folds and pushing slowly into you to fill you up. Your eyes shut in response, breath hitching when he curls them up to press into your walls.

“Fuck, Joel…Missed this so much—missed you so much.”

“Mm, I know what you mean, sweetheart. Couldn’t ever get you out of my head. No one else has been in this bed since you, mi cielito. No quería a nadie más cuando todo lo que necesitaba eras a ti (I didn't want anyone else when all I needed was you).”

You think back to that handful of hookups you had, immediately feeling guilty that Joel had waited and you, well, you hadn’t. Granted, every time you ended up imagining it was Joel, closing your eyes and seeing him above you or below you. Imagining it was his hands on you.

But that does nothing to lessen the way you get choked up, unable to say anything both from the physical response of your body to Joel’s touch again, his fingers moving in and out of you at a perfect pace, and the emotional spiral you’re going through in your head.

If he expected a response, he says nothing, shifting to lie down on the bed between your legs and giving your inner thighs nips before he kisses your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub and drawing louder moans from you.

“Mm, fucking Christ, taste even sweeter than I remember, darlin’.”

His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flattening his tongue against you while his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling up to find that spot he knew well. It all comes barreling over you at once, pleasure erupting over your body suddenly. You clench around Joel’s fingers, flooding between your thighs and around his mouth. Your brain short circuits in one second, spilling your thoughts that were fighting to keep inside.

“I didn’t wait — I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t—” Your hands grip the sheets, quick breaths in and out as you catch up to your quickened heart rate.

“Hey, sweet girl, it’s okay. Don’t need to wait for me to tell you every time you come,” he supports himself on an elbow and you can feel him looking at you as your eyes turn away, unable to face him as you make your confession clear.

“No, no — I mean, I didn’t…I slept with other people.”

Silence falls between the two of you, your eyes fixed on the nail of your left index finger scratching against the material of his bedsheets.

Joel’s hand gingerly grabs your chin, turning your head to face him and forcing your eyes to follow.

“Who?” His voice is low, vibrating in your ears.

“W-What?”

“Who was it?” Unwavering timbre.

“Um, just like a kid from one of my classes. A couple of guys I met at some parties throughout the year. Random. They were just random hookups.”

Joel hums as he stays between your legs, one finger pushing inside you as he speaks again.

“Ever hooked up with any of them more than once?”

His finger moves slowly, another added to stretch you more when you’re quiet. A moan falls from your lips, his other hand still holding your chin to look at him.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart…Did you see any of them more than once?”

His fingers curl into that one spot that makes your head dig back into the mattress, shaking your head wildly back and forth.

“No, no never. One time with each of them.”

You whimper when his hand moves faster, biting your bottom lip between your teeth and attempting to focus on him when he speaks.

“What were they like?”

His thumb on your face coaxes your lip from your teeth, eyes burning into yours as he awaits you answer. Thick fingers fill you up, his thumb of the same hand finding your clit and circling it in pace.

“T-They were just guys, I dunno. Didn’t really know them that well…” you interrupt yourself with a whine, feeling the rope in your stomach pulling taut as Joel fucks you with his hand.

“Had to have known a little bit about them to fuck ‘em, darlin’. Were they nice to you?”

“I-I guess so, yeah.”

Joel hums and curls his fingers with the next uptick, pressing against that spot inside a few times before resuming his movements.

“Were they nice to you in bed? Made you come?”

“They were nice. Some of them made—made me come. A couple didn’t.”

You gasp out another moan when he starts to fuck his fingers into you even faster.

“Yeah? Those guys that made you come, did they fuck you like me?”

“N-No, no they never did. I thought about you. Every time it was somebody else, even my hand.”

“That so, sweet girl? Missed me so much you imagined all those other guys’ cocks were mine?”

“Yes! Fuck — yes, Joel!”

“Any of ‘em as big as me? Fill you up like I do?”

“No, not even fucking close.”

“Any of them come inside you?”

“No. Only you.”

“Mm, that’s right. This pussy’s mine, isn’t it, Mariposa?”

All you can do is nod, choked up by the pleasure building inside you.

“Dime, mi chica dulce. Dime. (Tell me, my sweet girl. Tell me.)”

“It’s yours, Joel. My pussy’s only yours. Only ever yours.”

The rope is fraying inside of you, on the verge of snapping as the squelching sound of your arousal around his fingers fills the room, whimpers of his name the only words spoken.

“Then fucking come for me. I wanna feel my pussy come on my hand.”

The words break the final threads, pleasure flooding across your body and stilling you body under him as you grab at his shoulders to anchor yourself. Your loud, wanton moans fill the space, egged on by Joel’s soft encouragements.

Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s laying between your legs again. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, darlin’? You said it was mine, didn’t you?” He challenges and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head back between your thighs.

He pulls two consecutive orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain feels like mush, limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed. Your eyes are closed as you feel Joel get onto his knees after stripping his boxers, one hand tapping the outside of your thigh.

“Flip over onto your stomach, baby. Not finished with you yet.”

“J-Joel, I don’t think I can move.” You huff out a breath, opening your eyes to see him staring down at you with insatiable eyes.

“You can. Now do it, sweetheart.”

You take a few more slow breaths before flipping yourself over, shaky arms giving out when you attempt to hold yourself up. Joel’s hands find your hips pulling up so you rest your weight on your knees and your torso angles down to where your head and arms rest on one of his pillows.

“Bet none of those guys treated you right, mi cielito. No one knows how to really take care of you, huh? ‘Sides me. I know just how you like, baby, and that’s how ‘m gonna give it to you, yeah?”

“Please, Joel. Need your cock. Thought about it all the time, missed it so much. Missed you.”

You whine when he grabs at one of your asscheeks, squeezing harshly as he moves his knees to the outside of yours, hooking his ankles over yours to lock you in the position. Without warning, he lines himself up and presses the thick head of his cock inside you. A loud moan sounds from your mouth, unable to hold back anything with the way your mind is lagging. Fingers tangle into the sheets, mouth staying open as you choke out sounds while his cock slowly fills you with an agonizing movement of his hips.

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, fits me just right, don’t you?”

All you manage is a nod when he’s balls deep, grinding your hips back onto him in small circles. He quickly pulls out nearly all the way before beginning a punishing pace.

The sounds of skin against skin cut through your wild, borderline pornographic moans, Joel’s name slipping from your tongue over and over with each pounding of his hips into you.

“Aguantarla, mi chica malo. Take it, baby, fucking take it.”

If it weren’t for Joel’s vice grip on your body, he would surely have fucked you off of the mattress at this point, the power behind his hips nudging the tip of him into your cervix at this angle.

“Who does your little pussy belong to, mi cielito? Dime.”

“You-you, Joel. Fuck, it’s yours!” Your voice pitches up with a particularly hard thrust, choking out his name as he keeps up the speed and force of his hips.

His grunt melts into the sounds of your wetness around his cock, skin on skin of your thighs. Fingertips bruise into your sides, knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets tighter.

Tears form in your eyes, slowly falling as you hear Joel’s voice but can’t quite make out the words. When you don’t respond to him, one arm wraps around your waist, the other holding your chin to support your head as he handles you like a rag doll, pulling you up to sit back flush to his chest, hips unrelenting.

The drops from your eyes fall quicker now, pleasure filling every crevice of your insides that it makes you feel as if you’re going to implode. It’s never gotten to this point with Joel or anyone else, and your brain can’t think of anything besides chasing that inevitable high.

The hand from your chin moves slightly, wiping the tears cascading down your cheeks and Joel’s voice filling your ear at the side of your head.

“Yeah, feels good, don’t it?”

You try to agree, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper, more droplets spilling from your eyes the longer you sit at the edge. His hand finds your chin again, turning your head to face his at your side, a smirk happily on his lips as he chuckles low and satisfied.

“Guess I fucked all the words out of your head. It’s okay, pretty girl, you just talk to me with those little sounds I love.”

At that point, you whine with every thrust, his cock drilling the sounds out of you. With one, two, three more hits of his head at your cervix, you tense up in his arms, head falling back on his shoulder with your loudest moan of the morning. Your mind is completely wiped, only sensation being the jittery tingle that rushes over your body and turns your limbs to jelly. Joel holds your weight as he fucks you through it, grunting in your ear as he finishes inside of you, spilling his come for what feels like minutes. His warm spend fills you to the brim, squeezing and dripping out around his cock buried inside of you.

His sheets will need to be changed, but there is no part of you that feels like it could move your body from this bed.

Joel carefully pulls out of you, a sharp hiss involuntary from your lips as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He guides you to lie down, slipping a second pillow under your head like he knows you like.

After cleaning you with a warm washcloth he retrieved from the bathroom, he climbs into bed behind you, wrapping you up in his arms as the little spoon. One hand strokes your hair, pulling it out of your face and behind your ear while he presses soft kisses to your head and shoulder.

“Did so good for me, Mariposa. My sweet girl.”

Your eyes flutter close, body melting into the mattress and into his chest. His gentle voice vibrates in your ear as you drift off completely.

“You know I don’t care who you’ve slept with or how many times or anything like that, right baby? I want you ‘cause you’re you. Mi diablita. My sweetheart. Mi Mariposa. Don’t wanna let you go again.”

His heart hasn’t slowed down.

He tried to sleep next to you, but he couldn’t calm down enough to actually turn off his brain. Instead, he watched the rise and fall of your chest, his lips pressed into your hair as he kept breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

A fucking angel. That’s what you have to be.

Your soft features, slightly parted lips. He wants to press a kiss to your Cupid’s bow, the tip of your nose.

You must be an angel or some sort of entity to be this perfect. To be that genuinely kind-hearted. To find a way to forgive him, or at least forget what he did to you for this month.

How is he deserving of you?

Well, he can answer that. He isn’t.

His fingertips skim over your skin, across your stomach and over your breasts. Trailing down to your thighs.

The silky, pliable feeling of you draws his blood to his cock, swelling him to halfway. He adjusts his position next to you, kissing your shoulder as he palms himself with his hips tilted away. His slow strokes get him fully hard, whimpering muffled against your skin as he works his hand up and down his length.

The conversation you two had earlier, talking about him waking you up on the edge of coming, replays in his mind. His eyes fall down to your ass stuck out behind you in your curled sleeping position, swallowing his saliva down his throat.

His movements are languid as he wraps an arm around your stomach again, shifting down the bed a few inches to line himself up with where your thighs meet your center.

Gradually, he pushes his cock between your fleshy inner thighs, holding a groan in his throat at the feeling.

His heart rate thumps quickly, the added challenge of keeping you asleep as long as possible turning him on even more.

“Fuck, darlin’. Such a sweet girl to let me do this to you. My dirty girl.”

He moans a bit louder, biting his tongue as his hips drag back and forth. You adjust in your sleep, and he stills, waiting for you to settle before moving again.

It’s getting him close, but it’s not enough for him. Just as he grazes his teeth on your shoulder, your eyes flutter open, your sleepy voice speaking groggily.

“Joel? You need something?”

He grunts, nodding his head on your shoulder.

“Please, darlin’. Jus’ wanna put it in, please.”

You nod lazily, lifting your leg and resting it on his thigh behind you to spread you open for him. He huffs out a desperate breath, coating himself in your wetness still there from before, more dripping from your cunt as he slips his cock into you. You whimper and hiss quietly and Joel attempts to soothe you with candied kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“So good to me, mi cielito…Such a special girl. Think you were made for me. Exactly what I was wishing for. How’d I get so lucky?”

Your breath hitches with the leisurely hang of his hips; a hand moves to your front, finding your clit and rubbing it in heavy circles. A hand of yours grips his wrist, the other reaching up and back to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. You’re shaking your head as you beg.

“Please, Joel, I can’t…”

His chin hooks over her shoulder, lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “You can. Such a good fucking girl, taking it so well for me, huh?”

He nips at your ear before continuing, “C’mon, mi Mariposa, just one more for me. One more time, you can do it. ‘S gonna feel real good.”

Rapid breaths compress and expand your chest, eyes squeezing shut as you whine, his name falling from your lips in a quiet puff as you reach that last gentle peak he’s brought you too. Less intense than the others but still clouding your brain with dopamine.

His hand rubbing your clit crawls up your front, grabbing your chin gently and turning your head up to the ceiling. A kiss is pressed to the corner of your mouth, his hips fucking you through the tender orgasm and working to his own, “That’s my girl. So perfect — feels good like I said it would, right? Jus’ a little bit more for me sweetheart, can you you do that?”

You nod as quickly as you body will let you, eyes dragging to the side to try to look at him. 

One moan of his name from you, so delicate and syrupy, brings him to his high, spilling with slow, hard hits as he whines in your ear.

Your leg stays over his, holding him inside as you already drift off to sleep again. A quiet, incoherent mumble makes him smile, “Stay like this, please. Feels good having you this close…”

After you’re knocked out, he whispers in your ear, “Don’t deserve you, Mariposa.”

He complies with your request, softening inside you as he finally manages to drift off for a nap himself.

A soft knock comes from the front door, followed by about three rapid rings of the doorbell. You stand up from the couch, turning off the TV and smoothing down the skirt of your sundress as you walk to answer the door. The deadbolt clicks undone and when the door opens, there is seemingly no one there.

“Posey! You’re home!”

A smile stretches across your face as you look down at the smallest Miller, laughing softly and bending down to be at eye level with her.

“Hey there, Sare-Bear! What’s brought you over here today?”

She swishes the skirt of her own sundress as she twists back and forth, a grin on her face as she looks over her shoulder. Your eyes follow her head, seeing Joel standing at the side of his truck and waving to you. A short wave is sent back to him from both you and Sarah, the eight-year-old facing you again.

“Daddy’s taking me to that one farm that’s got berries to pick and that big thing with all the butterflies in it. He thought maybe you would want to do it too, so I ran over here to see if you were home and to ask you if you wanted to come with us! Pretty please, Posey, it will be so much funner if you come!”

The invitation makes you laugh happily, nodding your head and brushing some curls from Sarah’s face, “I would love to join, sweet pea, that sounds like so much fun. I need to just get some shoes on and get my purse, why don’t you head back to your daddy’s car and I will be right out?”

“Okay, but don’t take too long! I don’t want all the good berries to get picked by other people,” Sarah says seriously before turning around and running down the stairs of your porch and across the grass. You laugh at her antics, standing up and quickly stepping inside to slip your Chuck Taylors onto your feet and lace them up, grabbing your crossbody and throwing it over your shoulder.

After locking up the house, you walk over to meet Joel at the passenger side of his truck, Sarah secured in her booster seat in the back row. There’s a cheeky grin on his face as you step closer to him, a smirk on your face.

“Using your cute kid to invite me out is quite a move, Miller.”

“It’s called usin’ your resources, Mariposa. Guarantees me a ‘yes’,” he winks and opens the car door for you, stepping back to let you climb in. He offers a hand to help balance you as you climb up, looking at you with an affectionate smile before he closes the door and jogs around the front.

His fingers tap anxiously against the steering wheel as the three of them sit at the last light before their turn, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror to see Sarah staring out the window.

Light’s still red.

His lips press into a line, that airy feeling in his stomach kicking up when he takes a second to look at you in the passenger seat, your own eyes trained to the side before flicking over when you must feel his stare. A shy look is shared between the two of you before the light turns green, his foot easing off the brake and turning his signal on at the next right turn.

The truck cruises down the gravel road leading back to the farm, one that he even visited as a kid with his family. It’s part working farm and part nature reserve, the family that owns it sells their harvests as well as welcomes the public in to enjoy some berry picking, hiking along the trails throughout their land, and maintaining a pretty stellar butterfly garden with well-kept plants sprawling throughout it. It’s one of his and Sarah’s favorite spots during the summer; this year, he reckons it wouldn’t have felt as fun for Sarah or him without you there.

At that thought, warmth oozes into his heart as he parks the truck, cutting the engine and looking over at you.

Have you forgiven him? For pushing you away?

Or is this month just something fun before you leave for good?

Maybe he’s barking up the wrong tree, trying to win you back, but he can’t be damned to care. It feels good to be with you. Better than he’s felt in a long time.

“Joel? You there?” you question, and Sarah’s giggle fully pulls him out of his thoughts, sending both of you a playfully scolding look.

“I’m here, spaced out a second. Let’s go, you two. Before you both start scheming against me.”

The three of you make your way to the small welcome center to buy your baskets to fill with berries and pick up a small map with all of the activities marked on it. Sarah walks between Joel and you, her small hand in his to keep her tethered. He looks down as she reaches for your hand silently, connecting Joel to you in a chain.

Maybe you all look like a family.

The thought itches his skin with a tingle, his free hand gripping the strap of the backpack he brought filled with snacks and water, a rain jacket for Sarah in case of a change in weather. His shoulders roll to loosen the tightness in his back, a sigh relaxing him as you all walk into the air-conditioned building.

“Y’all stay here, I’ll go get the baskets and a map for us.”

“Oh wait, Joel! I think I have some cash to give you for it, hold on,” you keep Sarah’s hand in yours and use the other to rifle through your bag. Joel shakes his head and laughs softly, turning to walk away again.

“No chance, Mariposa. Your money’s no good with me,” he waves you off as he walks away and smiles to himself when he hears Sarah pull you over to the gift shop area.

The three of you have combed through about four rows of strawberry bushes, Sarah about ten feet ahead of you and Joel as she searches for the “best berries” even though Joel isn’t quite sure what that means to her. You and him trail back, walking slowly on either side of the row of harvestable fruit. Joel watches you more than he picks berries to fill the small package in his hand, catching himself and throwing a handful of strawberries in before going back to watching you.

Sunlight kisses your skin, a mild sheen of sweat on your chest. With the slight breeze that passes through occasionally, your sundress rustles at the hem against your thighs. One stronger gust lifts in a couple of inches, exposing more of the soft skin that his fingers twitch to reach out and touch. His tongue wets his lips, wiping his hands on his jeans before he crouches down to pick a few more pieces of ripened fruit. Every so often, your eyes follow Sarah, a smile crossing your face at her excited over finding another “perfect berry” and adding it to her basket.

It’s been a slow conversation between both of you, questions passed back and forth about the last few months and about your move at the end of this month. Joel tells you all about the business growing, getting a glowing recommendation passed around one of the wealthy neighborhoods and getting hired on six jobs in the same two week period. He’s hired more of a crew, and now is at a point where he has to turn down jobs every so often to keep time for Sarah. You tell him you’re nervous to move, but excited to start the new job. He reassures you after you mentioning feeling like an imposter in the field, praising the way you have talked about what you want to do with such care and dedication. He not-so-subtly interrogates you about your living situation — you have two roommates that you haven’t met before but have been emailing with, they both work at the same company you were hired to, neither of them is a guy (his jealousy reared it’s head a bit there), and it is in a relatively safe area. Your answer to his last question was filled with hesitation, and he makes a mental note to look up the neighborhood and it’s crime stats when he gets home later.

When the conversation dies down, he goes back to watching you silently. The care in your eyes when you look at his daughter gives him a feeling that lightens his chest and squeezes around his rib cage, words caught in his throat as he fights to speak to you, but his mind is unsure of what exactly his body is wanting him to say.

You have so much love in your heart.

And he selfishly wants some of it to go to him.

You said that to him — that you loved him. And he said nothing in response. Pretended he was asleep, or didn’t hear it. You never brought it up again.

He really wishes you would.

Do you still feel that way? Or did he give up any chance at that with you when he asked you to forget about him for the year?

Even if you didn’t want anything romantically with him again, he is desperate to receive love from you, even as a friend. The way you love is unabashed, unjaded by insecurity of rejection.

Fuck, did he ruin that for you? Did he make you hold back by ignoring your feelings?

What a dick. Thinking he was doing the right thing, forcing you to make your decisions based solely on yourself and not around him, and here he was, pleading internally for any love from you.

“Daddy?”

His head snaps to the sound of his daughter’s voice, a few feet ahead of him.

“Yeah, mija? What’s going on?”

“C’mere! Posey, too! I wanna show you something,” she crouches down to the crowd, staring into one of the strawberry bushes. Joel looks over at you, nodding his head in her direction.

“We’ve been summoned.”

“Guess so,” you grin at him, taking the hand he offers you to step over the short plants separating the two of you. The touch sends a jolt up his arm, spreading across the back of his neck and down his spine. It’s a cooling sensation under the Texas heat.

The feeling of your skin against his slips away in the next instance, his small window of opportunity to keep your hand in his gone as you lead the two of you toward Sarah’s spot. His daughter points to caterpillar slowly crawling across one of the berries, giggling at the look of it’s fuzzy skin. He reaches his hand out and lets the insect crawl onto his finger, bring it out and closer to Sarah.

Joel laughs as she backs away, hiding behind you. You laugh as Sarah yells to Joel from around you, “Daddy, stop! I don’t want him on me, stop!”

He steps closer, as if he’s going to move around you and Sarah bolts, sending both of you two into a fit of laughter at her dramatics.

“Okay, okay, enough tormenting your daughter. That little caterpillar doesn’t want to be a part of this family squabble,” you scold him with a grin on your face, holding out your hands cupped together to take the fuzzy bug from him.

He can’t ignore the way his heart rate picks up after he hears you say ‘family’. Nearly double time, he calms down his laughter and passes the insect over to your hands, watching you gingerly release it to the same plant it came from.

“It’s not tormenting. It’s exposure therapy; don’t think she realizes that her favorite butterflies in the greenhouse come from caterpillars. I am trying to educate.” He attempts to hold a poker face, faux seriousness laced in his voice.

You stand again and send him a look, shaking your head as you hold back a smirk.

“God, how do you ever get away with a lie? Can see your lip twitching, cowboy. Major tell.”

“Guess then you’ll know if I’m ever lying to you, sweetheart.”

“Hm, might come in handy in the future,” you say off-handedly as you start towards Sarah at the end of the field, leaving Joel to stand there and quickly press a hand to his chest to attempt to slow his racing heart with steady pressure. A fluttering in his stomach is going wild, his limbs feeling like they're filled with helium.

The future.

The future, with him.

Joel’s t-shirt sticks to his upper back in the hot, humid air of the butterfly house. The three of you are walking together, Sarah tethering you together in a chain as she holds both your hand and Joel’s. His daughter skips between you two and giggles excitedly at the butterflies fluttering around her.

An older couple walks past, Joel stepping aside behind Sarah to allow them more room on the path. The man gives him an appreciative nod, his wife smiling widely down at Sarah and then looking between you and him.

“Beautiful little girl you two got. Pretty as a peach.”

You open your mouth to correct her but Joel cuts in, a charmed smile on his face as he gives her a nod in acknowledgment.

“Thank you very much, ma’am. ‘M a lucky man,” he looks over at you, affection radiating from him as you grin sheepishly, nodding and waving to the couple as they continue on.

You say nothing about the way Joel didn’t bother to correct the woman; he was grateful, relishing in that little moment that made his cup feel full to the point of overflowing. Made him feel that constant swish in his stomach, heart swelling with a tinge of pain from how much he’s feeling.

What that feeling is, he can’t quite explain.

Sarah lets go of his hand, tugging you along with her as she moves to catch up to a butterfly she locked her gaze on. His fingers brush against your back as you get pulled ahead, looking over your shoulder with a coy smile. He lingers back, slow-moving steps as he takes in all the greenery, exotic ferns growing happily in the greenhouse. Butterflies zip around his head, eyes following one that flies over your heads, his stare dropping to the two of you kneeling in front of a blue butterfly perched on a large leaf.

From afar, he watches as your hand hovers carefully around the bug, pointing out its features to Sarah who is completely entranced. He smiles to himself, watching as a different butterfly lands on your hand, Sarah giggling as it slowly crawls along your forearm.

You pass the butterfly to her, laughing with her as she giggles more, squealing in excitement when it flutters its wings. The two of you follow the insect with your heads as it flies higher and higher. 

That’s what it feels like when he’s around you. That feeling in his stomach starts with flapping of wings, rising into his chest, lightening his heart and his limbs as the affection he feels for you filters into his brain, darting around and landing on the small quirks you have, how he feels about your smile, how you are with Sarah.

A calmness washes over him as he puts words to the feelings, a physical representation of how he could explain it to you. 

If he ever shares it.

Sarah leans into your side when you two stand again in front of the fountain, and Joel slowly comes up behind you both, hand resting on your lower back with his thumb brushing back and forth. You turn over your shoulder, closer to his chest, and a warm smile stretched across your face with what looks like devotion behind your eyes.

He really wants to kiss you.

Desperately wants to just say fuck it and dive head first into the deep end with you.

Instead, he just smiles, looking between you and Sarah before speaking up.

“My girls ready to keep moving? Lots of other things to see. Heard from one of the workers that there were gonna be some butterflies hatching on the side. Wanna go check it out?”

Sarah eagerly agrees, running ahead as Joel calls after her with a chuckle.

“Alright, mija, hold your horses!”

Your laugh draws his attention, his smile painted across his face and imitating your softer one. Words are unspoken in the look you share, and he watches you take one step before he reaches for your hand, taking it in his and walking with you over to the other side.

Quietly, he says to you, “Eres la mariposa más hermosa para mí. Mi Mariposa. (You are the most beautiful butterfly to me. My butterfly.)”

Joel’s eyes glance at Sarah in the rearview mirror again, smiling to himself when he sees her head rolled back and eyes closed. Completely fast asleep after all of the excitement of the day.

God, his heart is nearly about to burst.

It’s quiet in the truck, the soft hum of the radio filling the air as you relax back into the leather seat. Silence percolates for a few minutes before he clears his throat, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel nervously.

“Thanks for coming, Mariposa. I know it really meant a lot to Sarah to get a day like this with you before you, y’know…” He can’t bring himself to say it. He can’t face the reality that there’s a countdown for how long you are home. How long you are fifty feet away. How long you’re still his neighbor that he’s—

“Move away?” You fill in, and he nods slowly, swallowing hard.

“Yeah…I know she’s gonna miss you.”

“I’m going to miss her, too. So, so much.”

Joel nods, eyes trained on the road as his chest tightens with emotion, tears threatening his eyes that he holds back.

“And I’m gonna miss you, Joel. Like, a fuck ton.”

He laughs, looking over at you, seeing the dampness in the corners of your eyes. His hand leaves the steering wheel, crossing the center console and reaching for yours. You slip your hand together, fingers intertwining.

“Mariposa, I—“ he chokes out, shaking his head and focusing back on the road.

“It’s okay, Joel. We don’t have to…We can save it for goodbyes, yeah? Let’s just enjoy these couple of weeks.”

You squeeze his hand and he nods, slowing to a red light and looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for goodbyes,” he sighs, bringing your hand in his up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin. You hold your hands in your lap the whole ride home, sharing a sweet kiss with him hidden in his car before saying goodnight and heading back home.

He watches you cross the lawns, slipping inside your front door.

A smile pulls at his lips, an incredulous chuckle slipping out quietly.

Did he really have to fall in love with his neighbor?

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