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punkshort · 1 year ago

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i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

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yeollie-plz · 10 months ago

Text

Light The Flame

mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Part 2

Synopsis: Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

Genre: fluff, angst, and smut! the trifecta!

Warnings: divorced parents, mentions of cheating, no Sarah, no outbreak, drinking, age gap (reader is said to be in college but Joel's exact age isn't stated), Tommy is a bit of a sleaze, kissing, 18+ content, p in v sex, protected sex!, lots of different sexual acts, cursing

Gif credits to owners!

Inspired by this post from @deathsholywaterr ! I hope I did your idea justice!!

Also this shit is long so buckle up!

It had been about three months since your parents' divorce was officially finalized. Your dad had moved out long ago and with no other ties keeping her in California, she decided to move back to her hometown in Texas. And although you would miss your friends and the life you had in LA, you couldn't shake the feeling that you needed (and deserved) a change. Plus, you had just found out your boyfriend was sleeping with your so called best friend. So, yeah, you wanted to get out as soon as possible.

All of your stuff was packed into a moving van and moved across the United States. You knew Texas would be super different, but a welcome change. Not to mention a chance to reinvent yourself. Taking college classes and finding your path in life, that was the goal. But, of course, a girl still needs to have a bit of fun and you and you had heard Texas nightlife was very fun!

That's how you found yourself, perched on a barstool, at a downtown Austin bar, listening to drunk people sing karaoke only hours after unpacking your clothes. You giggled lightly to yourself as a very drunk man hit a way too high note. Rotating the barstool around to place your now empty glass on the counter and just as you were about to motion the bar tender over to order another a man settled in next to you. He leaned against the counter, a bit closer to you than you would've liked.

"Hello gorgeous, how 'bout you let me get you a drink?" His words slurred together as the smell of the beer on his breath wafted towards you. Your nose scrunched in disgust.

"How about no?" Your tone was sweet, but your words were not as you batted your eyelashes at the man. He was cute, but you weren't exactly in the mood for flirting especially with someone as intoxicated as him.

"Come on, one drink. We don't even gotta have a conversation, just wanna know your name. I'm Tommy by the way." He held out his hand, with how close he was it almost hit you in the face. You recoiled.

That's when a different man appeared next to the two of you, he grabbed Tommy by the bicep and yanked his hand back. Then pulled his body a few feet away from you, finally giving you the space you had been wanting the whole time.

"I'm sorry about him, sugar. My brother is an idiot and I'm an idiot for thinking he'd be okay alone for five minutes." He turns to Tommy. "Can't even let me pee, without causing me problems, can you?"

Trying to hold back your smile, you flattened out your skirt, getting rid of the imaginary wrinkles in it. The brother's eyes lock onto your hands, seemingly just now taking you in. He gulps as his eyes glaze over, then clears his throat.

"I really am sorry about him. Here, let me buy you a drink." He says and you almost giggle at how badly the two brothers want to buy you alcohol.

"Don't worry about it! Sadly, I am used to drunk men coming up to me. I appreciate it though, but honestly I should get home." He looks lost in thought, like he's debating offering to drive you home. But just as he opens his mouth Tommy slips and falls, almost taking his brother down with him. Then, who you're assuming is the older one tries to get him back to his feet.

He continues to struggle to get Tommy up, as you stand from your seat after placing a few dollars onto the bar for tip. Tommy drops to the floor again and he sighs. Ruffling through his pocket he pulls out his card and hands it to you.

With a quick, "If you ever want that drink." Before getting Tommy to his feet and pushing him back to where they must have been sitting. You glance at the card wanting to know his name.

Joel

A few days later, you found yourself at the grocery store. You wandered aimlessly through the aisles. Half in an attempt to orientate yourself with the new areas and half just looking for what sounded good. You wanted snacks, just weren't sure what exactly. As you pushed your now pretty full cart down the wine aisle, you saw a familiar face at the other end.

You tracked him with your eyes for a second before his met yours. A smile graced his lips, eyebrows raising in surprise. Honestly you were surprised yourself. Not only did he recognize you, but he was happy to see you.

Making his way towards you, he offered you a small wave, which you returned. Your cheeks heated up slightly, you remembered he was attractive, but now in the bright florescence it showed even more. Glancing down at your outfit, you cursed yourself for not putting in just a bit more effort this morning.

"Hello again." Joel said when he finally made it over to you.

"Hello again," You mirrored his words, "Wasn't sure you would recognize me just now." You cursed yourself at the words you let slip out. Insecurities on full display.

"Of course I would recognize that beautiful face again." He says nonchalantly, like he didn't just openly call you beautiful. Like he didn't just openly flirt with you!

Cheeks flushed, you cleared your throat, "Did...uh...did you and Tommy get home alright?" He smiles like you've said something funny.

"We did, you?" Awkwardly, you shift your weight.

"I did."

He looks at you with the same smile from before, something mischievous now playing in his eyes. Cocking his head at you, he looks like he is trying to get you to say more.

"You never called, don't want that drink, sugar?" Now you are adorning a playful look back. He was scared you weren't going to call him?

"I was getting to it." You say, simply. Not wanting to come off too desperate, but also not letting his hopes get dashed.

"I was really looking forward to seeing you again." Joel takes a step closer to you.

"I might be at the bar sometime this weekend, maybe you will." At your words his eyes darken slightly. He knows you are toying with him.

Taking one more step towards you he leans down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, "Maybe I will." And he's trying to play back. He smirks at you before offering you another wave and walking off into the depths of the store.

You are left there, blinking and blushing at his retreating figure.

That weekend, you were doing your makeup oh so precisely. The dress you had picked out hugged your figure perfectly. You wore your best heels. Your hair was meticulous. Now to just hope Joel showed.

It's not like the two of you picked a specific day or time so what if he wasn't there? You couldn't think like that, you could only hope for the best and look your best too.

As you pushed open the door of the same bar you had first met Joel at the cool air washed over you, causing you to shiver. That's when your eyes met with his. It was almost like he had his eyes trained onto the door, just waiting for you to arrive. It looked like he chuckled at your shiver as he stood and made his way over to you.

"Cold princess?" His head cocked at you in amusement.

You crossed your arms, "Actually I'm just fine." And with a nod you saunter past him and towards the bar to order a drink.

He follows closely behind him and you just know he's smirking at your response. Joel lets you attempt, and fail, to gain the bartenders attention. Before he places a hand lightly on your shoulder and nods as if to say "watch this".

Bringing his fingers to his lips he blows out a loud whistle, your eyes widen in shock. He smirks down at you before making eye contact with the bar tender who is now staring incredulously at Joel.

"Joe, think you can get my girl here a drink?" My girl? He didn't mean it like that, he couldn't have.

"Only since she's so pretty. But you? I've told you about doing that, Miller. So annoying." The bartender, Joe, mumbles the last part more to himself but both you and Joel hear it. Joel laughs behind you, you feel the rumble of his chest against your back. A shiver runs down your spine.

He leans down, talking into your ear, "Sure you aren't cold?"

You roll your eyes, he knows what he's doing. Actually, he's doing it on purpose. Letting out a scoff, you readjust your position on the stool allowing your body to graze against Joel's a bit more. His hand reaches out to grip the edge of the bar. You can feel his eyes boring into you, his knuckles are turning white. Yep, you know what you're doing as well.

And just as Joel was about to say something else to you, Joe comes back with two drinks in hand. He passes a smaller glass to Joel, with what you assume is scotch in it. Then he passes a taller glass with a mixed drink in it to you. Its the same drink you got the other night you came in and you wonder how Joe remembered. But you brush it off as good customer service and take a sip of your fruity drink.

Joel smirks down at you as you are obviously enjoying your drink ad sips his as well. The ice clinks in his glass when he sits down the half empty vessel next to you.

Once again, he speaks into your ear, "Why don't we find a booth?" Nodding in response, he holds his hand out to you to help you off of the stool. You can't help the blush that rises to your cheeks at how much of a gentleman he is.

The two of you sat and talked for hours. Subtle flirts, learning about each other, anything and everything. Although you weren't sure you were ready for a relationship after the train wreck that was your last one, you enjoyed Joel's company and it seemed like he enjoyed yours. Plus, it didn't hurt to just have a strictly physical relationship, did it?

Thats how you found yourself agreeing to another date with Joel. Thats how you found yourself moving your hips into his on the dance floor. And thats how you found yourself in his bed later that night.

Currently he was sitting on the edge of the bed, your legs straddling his as you kissed fervently. Your hips moved seemingly on their own, grinding your clothed core down onto his jean clad member. He groans into your mouth when you grind down even rougher. Big hands grip onto your hips, stilling your movements.

"Careful princess." His voice is deep as he mutters into your lips before catching them in a deep kiss again. This causes you to now let out a moan. Damnit if you weren't the most turned on you've ever been.

Joel seems to catch onto the faster movements of your hips, knowing you need more. His lips trial down your neck to the juncture of your shoulder, he bits you lightly before licking over the marks. You gasp, bucking your hips forward at the feeling. He smirks against your skin and moves his lips down your exposed chest. Silently thanking yourself for wearing such a low cut top.

Lips ghost against the skin of your breast before he pulls your shirt aside to let one boob out of its constraints. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and that's when you fully loose yourself into the pleasure. If you weren't fucked before, you sure were now. Well...you were going to be soon hopefully.

Pulling off of your bud, his breath fans over the sensitive skin causing a shiver to run down your spine. Something flashes in his eyes as a smirk graces his lips.

"Either you're always cold or I really have an effect on you." He says, craning his neck back towards your lips. You roll your eyes before he's meeting lips with your own and flipping you over to lay on the bed.

Your head lands all but gracefully on the plush surface, his lips never leaving yours. The hands that were on your hips, now explored your body leaving goosebumps in their wake. One massaged your still covered breast, the other slowly made its way up the inside of your thigh. His fingers tentatively crossed over your core and up to the buttons of your pants. Your need to have him inside of you grew stronger as you lifted your hips involuntarily, trying to urge him to take of your pants.

"So desperate." Is all Joel says before he is popping open the first button. Then the next. Then the next. Slowly he unbuttons them all and pulls your pants just as slowly down your legs. The pace makes you whimper out.

He was right, you were desperate. But with how slow he was going, who wouldn't be?

"I want to taste that pretty pussy." Joel says as he finally makes eye contact with your lacy underwear.

"Please, I just want you inside me." He gives you a look at your words, like he wasn't sure you meant it. Or he wasn't sure you were that ready?

"Next time, please Joel just fuck me already."

He seems to contemplate this for a second, but ultimately agrees, "Your wish is my command."

He slips out of his own shirt and quickly slides his jeans off too. Standing there in just his underwear, you swear you could pass out from the view alone. But your head was too cloudy to say anything. Joel seemed to see the lust in your eyes and just shook his head before grabbing a condom from the nightstand.

"Take your shirt off for me, sugar." Its a bit more of a request than a command but you follow it like it was an order. You had to admit it was a bit sexy to be told what to do.

"Good girl, let me see how wet you are." He stands over you while stroking his hardening dick through his underwear. You watch in awe before following his instructions and pull your own panties off of you.

Spreading your legs, you display your pussy to him and he groans at the sight. He strokes himself a bit faster as you slide your fingers through your soaked folds. Fingers dip into your opening and you hold back your reaction, keeping your eyes locked onto his. When your fingers are thoroughly coated in your juice, you trail them up your torso to your mouth. Sucking your fingers in and licking them clean.

Darkness fills Joel's eyes as he decides this is the last straw and he is on top of you in a instant. Pulling your fingers out of your mouth he shoves them into his own, swirling his tongue around your digits.

Quickly he pushes off of you just to take off his underwear and slip the condom onto his painfully hard penis. You gulp at the sight, mouth watering like you've been in a desert for days. You make a note that next time you must also taste him.

But, these thoughts leave your head as quickly as they came because Joel is pushing his member into you. As the tip breaches your entrance, you are gasping and gripping onto his arms for support. You feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as he begrudgingly paces himself, trying to let you adjust

You almost giggle at the pained look on his face. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hook your ankles together and pull him the rest of the way inside of you. He has to catch himself from falling on top of you from both a mixture of shock and the forceful nature of your movement.

Eyes meet yours with a shocked look. You just give him a smirk and a shrug in return. Regaining his composure, he pulls out of almost completely. So painfully slowly that you almost keel over. You know its your punishment for what you had done and you were feeling the full force of your actions.

But, the punishing doesn't last long as he enters you again. He thrusts out to his tip again only quicker and rougher. Continuing this action of thrusting in and out of you picking up a tempo.

After letting out another moan when he slams into you particularly hard, you crane you neck slightly to see the look on his face. He seems to have fully lost himself in the pleasure. The teasing is all lost and he is now fully focused on getting you both to your orgasms.

Joel is now fucking into you with no more reservations. He reaches a hand between the two of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. He rubs the bud in circles, trying to work you towards your peak.

"Cum for me, princess." He says with a grunt, gripping your hips roughly. His hips snap into yours roughly.

You feel the beginnings of your orgasm. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten. Your hips buck up at the feeling, needing to orgasm.

"Joel!" You gasp out as you are pushed over the edge. You clench around his cock, pussy urging him to cum as well.

Working you through your orgasm, he continues his motions on your clit. He thrusts are getting a bit out of rhythm as he is also reaching his own peak. Leaning over you he reattaches his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

As his hips stutter into yours he is thrusting into you one last time before spilling his load into the condom. Joel moans into your mouth as he works himself through his orgasm. Hips slow down as his orgasm ends and Joel is plopping down next to you. Wrapping you in his arms as his member is still inside of you.

All that is heard in the room is heavy breathing for a minute as Joel's sweaty body surrounds yours. You look up at him and his eyes meet yours. A smile graces his lips before he is pecking your nose and bringing you even closer to him.

Eventually, he pulls out of you and ties of the condom. Moving to toss it in the en suite before returning just to wrap you back into his warm embrace.

After the first time you and Joel hooked up, the two of you hung out at least three times a week. You would go to the bar, get a few drinks, talk a bit, laugh a bit. But you would always end up back at Joel's place. In his bed. In his arms.

Your mom was also starting to catch onto something going on with you. With you coming home late, giggling on your phone, smiling randomly at the thought of Joel. Not to mention, you were acting a bit shady. Even your friend noticed a change when she called you the other day.

But it was nothing but physical, right? Right...

Pushing open the door as silently as you could, you slightly stumbled into the dark house. Still a little tipsy as well as a bit of jelly legs from your earlier activities. Slipping off your shoes and picking them up so your heels wouldn't echo, you tried to reach the stairs to your room.

The minute your hand grabbed the banister, the lights in the living room flipped on like some movie scene. Your mom sat on the couch, arms crossed staring at you.

Jumping you tried to calmly greet her, "Hey mom."

"Don't 'hey mom' me, where have you been?" She was never this serious, so it scared you slightly.

"Out, I found a bar in town and I've been hanging out there." You didn't want to mention Joel just yet. One because how did you explain to your mom that you had a fuck buddy. And two that that fuck buddy was almost twice your age.

"By yourself?" Shit, she saw right through you.

"I mean, I talk to a few people there. Made friends with the bar tender. Well sort of, he's a bit serious and-"

She held up her hand to stop your rambling. You snapped your mouth shut.

"Who drove you home?" Joel had been driving you home from his house almost every time you guys hung out. He didn't like you taking a taxi that late.

You gulped, "I got a taxi."

"I know that's not true, Y/N. You're seeing someone. I can tell. You're different since we moved here and I think it has to do with someone." Your eyebrows furrow at her confession. Was she mad at you for staying out or mad at you for keeping secrets from her?

"Okay, maybe I am. I'm an adult!" You really weren't sure what she wanted to hear at this moment.

"You are, but I just want to make sure you are responsible."

Now you were rolling your eyes and crossing your arms back at her.

"Responsible? I can assure you I am." What did she think? That you were going around sleeping with randos and not using protection?

"Good," She stood up now and made her way over to you, "I just want to make sure you're okay, sweetie. After all that happened before..." She trailed off when she saw the hurt on your face at the mention of your ex.

She continued, "Anyways, I can see you're happy, so I won't pester you much about it anymore. But, can you at least try to come home earlier. You know I worry." She places a kiss on your forehead and moves past you up the stairs a bit, only turning back to hear your reply.

"I will, I'm sorry you were worried." You smile at her, she returns that smile.

Making her way to her room she shouts back one more thing before closing herself in her room, "And I wanna meet him sometime!"

This has you gulping, breathing cut short, body rigid. How were you going to get out of this one?

The next morning as you sluggishly made your way to the kitchen, you were greeted by your overly excited mother.

"Morning sweetie!" You almost cringe at her loud voice, feeling the effects of your late night.

"Morning." You grumble out, before making your way to the pantry to find something to eat.

She's humming to herself as she cooks some eggs on the stove. At first you don't think much of it, until you notice her almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. It makes you take a pause, she was excited about something and she definitely wanted to tell you about it.

"Why are you so happy?" You ask with a smile in your voice. Leaning against the pantry door, you make eye contact with her. She blushes, smiles, and then looks back down at her eggs.

"Remember how I told you I went out with a group of friends from high school the other night?" You nod recalling how she animatedly told you about that night and all the nostalgia.

"Well, we are all hanging out again tonight. I'm just excited." Now you nod in acknowledgement. But she did seem a bit more excited than just a hang out, eh whatever.

You went back to looking for your cereal, grabbing it and a bowl. While pouring your cereal into your bowl, your mom speaks again.

"Plus, I might have a man too." Jumping slightly at her confession, you almost spill your cereal. You weren't sure you were ready for her to date again. It seemed weird after your parents had just divorced. You'd never seen either of them with anyone else, just strange.

She continues without you saying anything, "We went to school together. Used to have a bit of crush on him back then, but never worked out. Anyway, he was with us that other night and when I tell you he aged well!"

Almost laughing at how your mom was acting like one of your friends. Cute little crush and everything! You still felt a bit weird about hearing something like this from her. First of all, ew! Second of all, was she ready?

"Oh, that's nice." Is all you can manage to say, before taking a bite of your cereal, that you had just finished pouring milk into.

"'That's nice.'" She repeats, setting her spatula down and not making eye contact with you.

"Yeah, mom, that's nice. It will be nice for you, after dad..." You trail off, not sure if this is a sore subject or not. The two of you didn't talk much about the divorce anymore. So you thought it better to tread lightly.

"I think so too." She says, a bit more happier now as she resumes her eggs.

Yep, it will be nice.

After your awkward breakfast with your mom, you returned to your room to text Joel. If your mom was going out, you might as well too, right?

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message. Quickly dropping whatever you were previously doing you crashed down onto your stomach on your bed. Kicking your feet as you unlocked your phone to read the message.

Joel: Sorry, sugar but I have plans tonight. Tomorrow?

You sigh, guess everyone was busy tonight.

You: No worries! See you tomorrow!

Sighing, you flipped onto your back, staring at your ceiling trying to think of what was going to keep you occupied tonight.

You decided to take the time for a self care night. Painted your nails, did a face mask, read a bit, before ultimately ending up in the bath.

The soak felt nice and after weeks of not focusing on yourself enough, it also felt nice to just relax. Plus, if you were glowing the next time you saw Joel, he probably wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of you.

That's how you found yourself, wrapped up in your soft robe propped up at your vanity. Hair wrapped in a towel while you rubbed lotion into your legs.

Just as you were finishing up, the doorbell rang downstairs. Sighing, not really wanting an interruption, but needing to answer it nonetheless. You pushed up from your seat and made your way downstairs. Not even bothering to change out of your robe.

And you would have never expected what you were about to see on the other side of the door as you swung it open.

There stood Joel and another lady, trying to hold up your very drunk mother. Eye immediately lock onto Joel's, an apologetic look on his face as he wasn't sure what to say.

Your mother however saw you and tried to rush at you to hug you. Slurring about this and that. How much fun she had, how pretty you were, anything and everything that came to her inebriated mind.

Joel and the lady held her back, trying to keep her on her feet and off of you. After the initial shock of the moment, you finally realized they were probably trying to get you to let them inside.

"Oh! Um, come in. I'm sorry about her, uh maybe just put her on the couch?" You gesture towards the living room and move aside to let all three of them through. Joel glances back at you as you close the door, eyes also trained onto him.

They try to place your mother onto the couch as carefully as they can, but she falls to the side anyways. You are almost horrified at the situation. Joel, here. Your mom, drunk. Joel with your drunk mom.

Joel clears his throat while the lady is busying herself with your mom, "As you can see, she's a bit tipsy." He states the obvious, you bite your lip as he shuffles from foot to foot nervously.

"A bit." You conclude.

"Yeah, uh, it might have been my idea to play a drinking game. Sorry!" The lady on the couch calls over her shoulder, returning to your mom.

Your eyes never leave Joel's. As the shock subsides, you finally put some pieces together. Your mom was going to see some high school friends. Joel was one of your mom's high school friends. You were hooking up with your mom's friend. Fuck!

Joel tries to read your face, you can see how he wants to go over to you. Wants to apologize properly or explain himself. Anything to make you feel better.

"Sug-Uh, Y/N right?" He almost lets his pet name for you out. You nod, like he doesn't moan out your name nightly.

"'m Joel and that's Linda." You nod again. What then fuck is happening right now?

"Do you think we should take her upstairs?" The lady, Linda, finally turns to look at you. She scans you and you only just now realize what you are wearing. Or lack of what you are wearing. Eyes shift to Joel, who is seemingly now taking in your appearance as well. You notice his Adam's apple bob a bit as he tries to wet his now very dry mouth.

"I mean, she will probably be fine there. One night on the couch isn't so bad." You try to joke but Linda's face stays stern.

"I'll take her up, can you bring her some water?" She looks to you and you nod again, now gulping at how serious she is.

Linda grabs your mom off the couch and surprisingly easily takes your mom up the stairs.

"The door on the left." You call out, realizing you never told her. Linda grunts in acknowledgement before taking your mom into your room. The second the door closes, Joel speaks.

"Linda's a bit serious."

"A bit serious? I was gonna say scary." He laughs at your statement.

"She is, isn't she?" He laughs again, before stopping as his eyes latch onto yours.

"Baby..." He trails off, not sure what to say.

"So, you're friends with my mom?" He nods. You open your mouth once, twice, before closing it again. Also not sure what to say.

"Obviously, I didn't know until she gave me the address tonight. Then I didn't know what I was going to say to you. I couldn't act like I knew you and-" He stops his rambling as you step towards him, placing a hand on his chest.

"It's okay, I know you didn't know. I know you wouldn't keep something like that from me." His hand engulfs yours, pulling it up to his mouth to peck your palm.

"You're so good to me." Taking a step closer, his forehead rests on yours.

You giggle, "You're so good to me."

The two of you sit there in silence for a second before he speaks again.

"You look so pretty right now, angel. I wish I could kiss you."

"You could." You confirm, bringing your face closer to his.

And right as he is about to attach his lips to yours, something crashes up stairs. you jump back from Joel at the sound before the two of you rush upstairs. Just to find Linda and your mom on the floor, laughing. You sigh in relief before noticing the pile of book knocked off the bookshelf.

"What happened?" You ask.

"She fell while trying to put her pants on. Knocked over all these books and me." Linda replies in between laughs. Only a bit shocked by her switch in emotions, you sign again.

"It's okay, you guys have done enough. I'll put her to bed now and clean that up in the morning. Thank you for everything." Linda nods, stands, and dusts herself off. Before looking to Joel who just gestures for her to go first.

Joel glances back at you once last time. Almost taking a step towards you, before shaking his head and following behind Linda.

The front door closes down stairs and your attention returns to your mom who is still sitting on the floor. Her head is slumped over and her breathing is even, like she has fallen asleep just like that.

"Come on, mom, let's get you to bed." You reach under her arms to lift her up. She doesn't help but falls into another giggling fit. Trying so hard not to laugh to you push her down under her seats, tucking her in just like she used to when you were little.

"That was him." She says all of a sudden.

"That was who?" You reply, not fully listening as you pick up one of the books.

"The guy I was telling you about. The one that grew up well. He's hot right?" You stop mid movement of picking up another book. What?

But before you can even say anything else soft snores come from the bed. You stand up and place the book back onto their shelf. Leaving the room silently.

You lean against the door once you shut it, stomach tying into knots.

The guy your mom is interested in is the guy that you are currently seeing. What the fuck?

The next morning it was your mom's turn to come into the kitchen groaning. Holding her head she sits at one of the barstools at the island.

"Morning sunshine." You greet her with a laugh while sipping your coffee.

She just grunts in response, you laugh again. Turning to make her her own mug of coffee, knowing that's exactly what she wants right now.

You slide it over to her, her eyes widen for only a second before lifting the mug to her lips. As soon as the liquid touches her tongue she is smiling into the brim of it.

"Thank you." She says as she places it back onto the counter. You raise your own mug to her in a "you're welcome" gesture. She sighs.

"Did I embarrass myself last night?" Groaning again while rubbing her temples.

You laugh, "Only a little." Holding up a pinching gesture with the hand not holding your coffee.

You take a sip while your mom speaks again, "Oh! But you met Joel right? What do you think?" And that's when you choke. You were kind of hoping she didn't bring up Joel.

"That bad?" Your mom chuckles while you try to recover from your coughing fit.

"Uh...um he didn't seem too bad." You finally say as you recover just enough to let the words out.

Your mom only nods, taking your short answer as enough.

What were you going to do?

You had sent a text earlier in the day to confirm with Joel that the two of you were still on for tonight. Although, you were a bit confused by the whole situation currently. You knew how you felt about Joel and honestly you were tired of hiding it from not only yourself but also him.

Now you could only hope he felt the same. That hope, however, came fully to fruition when the you showed up to Joe's bar and Joel was standing there waiting for you, bouquet in hand. You almost teared up at the gesture.

When you crossed the bar to him, he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling your body into his. He placed a kiss on the top of your head before handing the flowers to you.

"Sorry again about last night." You hit his chest at his statement. He backs up in shock, mouth wide open. His dramatics make you laugh.

"Stop saying sorry, it isn't your fault. My mom should be apologizing to you!"

"Still I should've at least warned you we were coming." Dramatics dropped as he looks down at his feet.

"While you were driving? Joel Miller!" Now you are the one being overdramatic and it makes him laugh like it had made you laugh.

"Fine, but I still feel bad."

You sigh, "Fine, but you're not sitting in this corner all night! Dance with me!" You grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor.

When you start dancing he is only swaying his hips a bit, not fully into it. But you aren't having any of that, you grab his arms and slide his hands down your sides. Flipping around so your ass makes contact with his crotch. This seems to make him react as he grabs your hips in almost a warning.

Although, of course, this only eggs you on to continue your teasing. Grinding your hips back into his like that very first night the two of you hooked up. You spin back around, hands moving up his stomach and chest finally resting latched behind his neck. Your head is tossed back as you continue to move your hips dangerously close to his own. Neck is on full display for Joel and he takes this as an opportunity to crane down and place a soft kiss there.

His head now rests on your shoulder using his hands to help move your hips in time with his. You smile, he must be feeling a bit better now. So when he raises his head out of the crook of your neck you raise your own to meet eyes.

But you don't see lust there, you see something else. Love? It makes you gulp, goosebumps raising on your skin as he leans down to bring his lips to yours.

And when he pulls away, "I want you." He says, but it isn't in the lustful way he usually says it. Not sure how to reply, you smirk teasingly.

"Then take me."

"Not like that, baby. I-I want you. I-" Words seem to stop at the top of his throat, fearing that they will topple over.

Still unsure, you say the first thing that comes to mind, "You have me. I've been yours for a while, Joel." The look in his eyes sparks almost unnoticeably.

"You're mine?" You nod. "Promise?" Another nod.

"Come home with me?" Instead of answering, you attach your lips to him.

Waking up in Joel's arms felt so much different than all the times you had been in his bed and in his arms before. Something about the intimacy of your conversation from the night before and the intimacy of being in his bed now. You were just so serene. It felt right. There was no other way to describe it.

Obviously, after leaving Joe's you ended up at Joel's place once again. Although this time you had told your mom so she wouldn't worry and you had also, at Joel's request, told her that you weren't going to come home at all tonight.

Of course, like all the nights before Joel and you had ended up fucking, but last night felt different. It was slower, it was intimate, it was like he was making love to you. If you had asked Joel he would tell you that's exactly what he was doing.

Glancing over at Joel, you see that he is still asleep. You try to carefully let yourself out of grip to get out of bed but his strong arms keep you there.

As you try again, he just grips you tighter letting out a groan. He opens his eyes slowly.

"Don't leave me." He says while still waking up.

"I'm not leaving, Joel, I-" He cuts you off by pulling you roughly into his side.

"Joel-" you warn with a squeak as he pushes on your stomach with the heel of hi hand. "-I need to pee."

He still doesn't let you up. Just nuzzles his face into your hair. His breath tickles your neck.

"If you don't let me go, I'll end up peeing in your bed." You try to warn him again and finally he lets you go with a sigh.

But before you can make it fully into the bathroom he is calling out behind you.

"You're mine?" Your eyes roll.

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"Joel." Another warning tone.

"Promise." This time it wasn't a question.

"I promise. Now let me go pee!"

After peeing, you returned to Joel who was still sprawled out in bed. He brought you back into his arms as quickly as he could. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just bathing it each other's warmth.

Until Joel's hands started wandering. First it started with rubbing soothing circles onto your back. Then the circles moved to your thighs. The circles becoming less soothing and more whimper inducing. Then they moved to just above the waistband of your pants (boxers you had borrowed from Joel). Only for them to dip past that waistband just a second later. Now teasing your already dripping slit.

Whimpering out, Joel caught your sound with his lips. Letting his tongue taste yours. The kiss was slow, passionate. No matter how much he wanted you, he was taking it slow.

His fingers continued teasing your pussy lips, collecting your juices before slipping just the tip of fingers past your folds. Gasping, you bit down on his lip, causing him to groan into your mouth. The shock made him loose himself for a second but he recovered quickly and continued teasing you.

He did this for a minute or two never letting his lips leave yours. Bringing his fingers to your clit he rubbed the bud a few times before slipping his hand out of pants. You whined at the loss.

"I need to be inside of you. Can't wait any longer." He says before pushing you to turn around so he was now behind you.

You heard Joel rustling through his nightstand for a second before tearing open a package. Shifting away from your warmth for only a second to slide his underwear down and slip the condom on.

As quickly as he can he is returning to touching you, hand moving up under your shirt. Lips are on your neck nipping and sucking lightly at the sensitive skin.

The hand in your shirt moves up to tease your boob, massaging both of them. The other hand is moving back to the waistband of your pants, slipping them down your legs as much as he can in the position that you are in. You help him by lifting your hips a bit.

Joel slides his dick into you from behind, it being easy from till being a bit stretched out from last night. Not to mention all the teasing and the amount of wetness that is almost dripping down your thighs at this point.

You don't even need to adjust to the stretch, "Please Joel." You breath out. He continues fucking into behind and kissing at your neck.

Hand is still in your shirt, just holding onto your tit. The other is holding your hip in place, like he thinks you'll slip away from him. He is fully seated inside of you when he slowly pulls out of you to hi tip, before fucking back into all the way to the hilt.

He continues his slow and steady pace, just taking his time with your body. Needing to feel all of you. Needing you.

Thrusting his dick in and out of you. Working both of you towards your release. Morning sex with Joel was definitely different than any of the sex you've ever had with him before but you were loving it. You loved how he was taking his time. He didn't want either of you to get overstimulated.

The hand that was on your hip wrapped around to tease your clit. The strokes were as slow as his thrusts. But he strokes once particularly roughly and you are moaning, turning your head to try and meet lips with Joel. He obliges and connects your lips.

This is what sends you hurtling towards your end. The softness of the kiss, the circles on your clit, and the slow yet perfect thrusts. It crashes over you unexpectedly and has you moaning out loudly disconnecting your lips just so you can catch your breath.

And the feeling of your walls clenching onto his member has him closer to his peak quickly as well. He's usually very sensitive in the morning so he isn't very surprised. So when you seemed to have caught your breath and you no longer are jerking with your orgasm, Joel is placing his lips back on yours. Kissing you deeply as he swallows your breathy moans from the overstimulation.

This causes him to reach his peak, cumming into the condom with a throaty moan. Thrusting roughly into you a few times to work himself through his orgasm. When he is finished he is pulling out of you and using your shoulder to turn you back to face him.

He pulls your head into his chest. Breathing is still a bit labored as the two of you just feel the other person. Appreciating the comfort. Breathing in each other's scents, content.

Later that day after a shower, with Joel, he drove you back to your house to drop you off. You didn't have any clothes with you after all, so you at least had to change and because you didn't exactly want to leave Joel yet, when you didn't see your mom's car in the driveway you convinced Joel to come up with you.

He didn't protest much after you promised him your mom would not be returning any time soon. So he followed you through the house and into your room. You ushered him in and watched as he took it all in. Shutting the door behind you two, you made your way across the room to Joel.

Wrapping your arms around him from behind as he looked at some pictures on your desk. You hadn't realized until now but Joel had never seen the way you lived and it was comforting to finally have him in your space.

"That's when I was seven." You said as he picked up a picture of you with a soccer ball in hand, blue jersey hanging on your little torso. "I begged my dad to sign me up for soccer and only did it for about three weeks before I decided I hated it." You laugh at the memory.

He laughs too and places it down, now picking up a picture of you and your friend from prom.

"That feels like ages ago." You muse, "There used to be another girl in this picture but she uh she fucked my boyfriend so I cut her out." You nod into his back before disconnecting your arms and moving across the room to sit on your bed. Playing with your hands, he places the photo down and moves to sit with you.

"I'd never do that to you." He says after a beat of silence.

"Fuck my boyfriend? I hope not." You try to joke but it doesn't fully reach your voice.

Joel grabs your hands, "Cheat on you." He says the thing you weren't sure you wanted to hear. You open your mouth but aren't sure what to say.

So he speaks instead, "You deserve the world and I want you to know that I'm prepared to give it to you." You smile, finally bringing your eyes to his.

"You sound so old!" You jest as you hit his chest. He grabs your wrist using it pull you forward into him. You fall into his chest, Joel uses that as an opportunity to stable you by a hand on your hip.

"If I really was that old, I don't think I could fuck you the way I do." He tone is laced with seduction as he brings his lips to ghost yours. Breath fans over your face, causing you to shiver. He smirks almost bringing up the inside joke of you being cold all the time. But throws this away to instead attach his lips to yours.

The kiss is fiery, not like the ones from this morning that were filled with passion, this one was like he needed to prove something. Prove he would always be yours and you would always be his.

His lips and his hands have you so much in a trance that neither of you hear a car pulling into the driveway. Or the front door opening. Or your mom calling out your name. Or climbing up the stairs. Or opening your door.

But you do hear the gasp and the sound of bags dropping to the floor as your mom sees the two of you. Pulling away quickly both you and Joel jump away from each other like a fire was just lit between you. Your head snaps to look at your mom and then back to Joel and notice she is doing the same thing with the both of you.

"Mom, I-" You try to explain but loose your words and good thing too because they would be falling on deaf ears anyways. With her blinking twice and rushing out of the room, back down the stairs, out of the house, and driving away.

You look back to Joel who has a mortified look on his face, then back to the doorway your mom was just in.

"Shit."

Part 2 !!!!!!!

1K notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 6 months ago

Text

A summer with the Millers

4k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | Masterlist | series masterlist Summary: you come back to your father's house for summer vacation and want to get closer to your crush (your dad's best friend) and his brother Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon (alcohol), mfm, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy and Joel are in their late 30s, early 40s), virgin reader, eager reader, dirty talk, degradation, masturbation, oral (m/f), ball sucking

a/n: dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, love you 💕🫶

It was the beginning of summer, and you were coming back to Austin for vacation. Now you lived in the north of the country for your studies, not too far from your mother, since your parents had divorced several years ago. You hadn't been back in Texas since last summer, and you were delighted to see your father. You couldn't wait to enjoy the heat and the pool. You were about to spend several weeks here, and you had been looking forward to the holidays so much that you almost twirled around as you headed towards the airport parking lot to meet your father.

Your phone buzzed, and you saw the text message.

“Sorry, sweetie, I had a setback at work, I'm really sorry. Tommy is coming to pick you up from the airport. I'll see you home very soon. See you tonight, I can’t wait!"

You were a little disappointed not to see your father right away, but Tommy? He was your dad’s best friend, and you had known him for a long time. You’d had a big crush on him for a couple years, and your disappointment quickly gave way to a slight tightening in your heart.

You reached the parking lot where Tommy was already waiting for you, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette. He threw it away as soon as he saw you and gave you a big smile before taking you in his arms.

“Hey, darlin’! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

You pulled away from each other, and you weren't sure if your brain was playing tricks, but you felt like you caught his gaze quickly checking out your body.

“Damn, look at you all grown up!”

You smiled at his warm welcome, and your grin reached your ears when he opened the passenger door as a perfect gentleman to let you settle in. When he got behind the wheel and started off, that time you were sure, his eyes lingered for a second or two on your bare legs, which your short skirt barely covered. You smiled. It was going to be a good summer, you were sure of it.

The radio was playing a cool 70s rock song, and you leaned your head against the headrest.

“How old are you now, darlin’? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

"I'm 21. And it hasn’t been that long, I was here last summer,” you replied, laughing.

“Wow, really? Well… you seem like a whole different person now. How are your studies going?”

"Alright! I love studying classic literature. I feel good at my uni but I’m happy to be back in Texas.”

“I bet you do! How’s your mother?”

“She’s fine too. She has a new boyfriend. Well, it's been almost a year now.”

“Alright. I hope he’s not a pain in the ass to ya?”

“No, he’s ok”, you replied.

The trip continued with a really smooth conversation between the two of you. A few times, your eyes dared to linger on his hands placed on the steering wheel. His veins were prominent and his forearms muscular, and you couldn't help but wonder what his hands would feel like on you. “They’d make a perfect collar around my neck…” you giggled softly at the thought. Apparently your crush was stronger than ever. And you were hornier than ever.

You realized Tommy was talking to you and you hadn’t paid attention.

“Mmm, excuse me?” you asked.

“What was your pretty head thinking about?” he asked, looking at you a little longer than usual.

“Oh, nothing special…I’m just glad to be back.”

“I’m glad too, darlin’.” He checked out your legs when you were looking out of the window and couldn't catch him staring, before pulling into your father's driveway and wishing you a good afternoon.

You watched his car back out of the driveway, then he parked in front of his house. The house next to your dad’s. You waved Tommy goodbye when he looked at you before entering his house. You definitely didn't regret that he came to get you instead of your father.

The sun was flooding the dining room. Photos of you and your father adorned the walls. You missed him terribly every year. You called each other often, but of course it wasn't the same as seeing him every day. Like before.

Your bedroom was as you had left it. Everything in its place, every book, every photo, every memory. You lay down on your bed and stroked the soft blanket with your fingertips. For a few moments, your childhood memories came back to you. A bittersweet melancholy of a bygone time.

Quickly you thought about Tommy, and how he had checked you out in the car. It hadn’t been that long since you’d seen each other, but he seemed to like you. Differently. At least you hoped so, and you would soon check if that was indeed the case. As usual, he would often come over to your dad’s house to watch a football game, have a beer, or enjoy the pool. On Sunday, there would be the usual early summer barbecue. You couldn't wait to go through your closet and pick a dress that would make him salivate.

But first you needed to get off. Your fingers slid down your body. Running them from your neck, where you imagined Tommy’s fingers lightly gripping your skin. The warmth of his hand on you. You went down to the hollow between your breasts, brushing them very lightly, before grabbing one of them and twitching the nipple between your fingers until you felt it harden. Your other hand traveled from your navel to your skirt. You brushed against the elastic, then the fabric, until you reached the hem. Pulling your skirt up to your waist, then brushing against your sensitive folds under your panties. For a few minutes, you played with your pleasure. Brushing against your swollen clit with feather light touches. Until impatience gripped you, and you finally slip your hand into your panties. Imagining Tommy’s feverish fingers working their way to reach your soaking pussy. You ran your digits along your soaked folds to wet them, and moved up to your twitching clit, already sensitive. You moaned, softly whispering “Tommy.” Your index finger gently swirled over your little bud of nerves, applying the perfect pressure to make your orgasm build. Your other hand squeezed your breast, and you arched your back as your gasps filled the room. But you needed more. Needed to feel something in your core. Your hand left your breast and slipped into your panties, pushing your middle finger between your folds. Just in time for your pussy to clench on it, a wave hit your trembling body. Imagining Tommy inside you, his face above yours, balls deep in your cunt. His name escaped your lips one last time, with final twitches of your walls against your finger. All you could think about was Tommy, and the sensations he would give you. Sensations you could only imagine, because you were still a virgin.

Your father came back home early in the evening, and you had dinner together, chatted and laughed. You two always had a great relationship. When your parents had divorced, you all had agreed that you would live with your mother, since your father had often been away for work. But you missed him a lot, and summers with him were definitely your favorite time of the year.

Tommy came by your house a few times in the days that followed. But not once did you see his gaze on you like it had happened in his car on the way back from the airport. You were disappointed, but since your father was home every time he visited, you figured that maybe Tommy didn't want to risk something in his presence.

The barbecue day arrived, finally. You had chosen a short summer dress with white and yellow pattern, thin straps, no bra underneath. Black lace panties completed the ensemble.

You were impatiently waiting for Tommy to arrive, and you knew he would be among the first guests. You were busy setting the table when you heard your name. Tommy was approaching you and he wasn't alone. Joel, his brother, was with him. He was slightly older than Tommy, and you hadn't seen him in several years. You didn't remember him being so hot and you lost your breath when you saw him. They hugged you, and If Tommy kept a friendly attitude, Joel looked at you from head to toe and smirked, while your dad was busy with the other guests. Arousal instantly burned you from the inside out.

So you decided to go a little further. You seeped your beer while staring and smiling at Tommy or Joel, played with a lollipop redder than your lips while looking at them, or talking to them. You saw Joel readjust himself twice, and Tommy looked away a few times. But his bulge left no doubt about the effect your little game had on him.

The last guests were leaving, and you wished everyone a good evening. Saving your warmest, playful smile for the Millers. Your father had drunk a little too much, and told you he was going to bed. You walked him to his bedroom, helped him take off his shoes, and covered him with his blanket. Then you went into the garden and sat in one of the deckchairs, a beer in hand. You had drunk more than usual but you felt good, a little dizzy but not too much, and you wanted to end the evening like that, looking at the stars.

“You haven’t gone to bed, darlin’?”, you heard from the aisle. Tommy and Joel were heading back towards you.

“No, not yet, I’m still enjoying the evening,” you added, raising your beer bottle at them. “Did you forget something?”

“Yeah, my phone. There it is,” Tommy added.

“Wanna join me for another beer?”

“Yeah, sure”, said Joel. They took beers from the cooler, then brought two deck chairs closer to yours. Conversation was easy with them. Both were quite talkative.

As for you, you laughed even more than usual, thanks to the beers you had drunk. The effect of the alcohol seemed much less stronger on Tommy and Joel.

“It’s getting late, I'm gonna put away the leftovers”, you said, getting up.

“Let us help you, sweetheart,” offered Joel.

You took the salad bowls and went down to the basement to put them in the fridge. You found yourself really close to Joel as you walked through the door, and he clung to you wholeheartedly.

“So, baby... what was that little game all evening?”

“You liked it?” you asked, shamelessly.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re gettin’ into?”

“What are you doin’, Joel?” asked Tommy.

“Just what she wants. Come on, she’s been hitting on us all day.”

“Her father’s here, Joel. He’s… He’s my best friend.”

“Drank way too much. We heard him snoring from the dining room. And she can fuck whoever she wants, it’s not her father’s problem. She’s 21.”

“I… I don’t know man.. I’ve known her since… forever.”

"Jesus. She's an adult. You wanna have fun, baby?”

“Yes! Yes, please. Come on, Tommy, I wanna play with you too”, you added, flirting openly.

Tommy's remorse quickly dissipated, you weren’t sure if you had to thank the beers for that or not. The two brothers' bodies pressed against yours two seconds later. Tommy's lips sought yours, while Joel's covered your neck with kisses. The four hands caressed your waist and breasts, and you felt their hard cocks pushing against you. Virility and masculinity emanated from them. Strength, too. They were men, not boys or young men, and had a totally different energy than the guys you had dated so far. And even though your desire for the two brothers was soaking your panties, you started to fear that maybe you wouldn’t be able to manage what was going to happen next.

“Wait, wait”, you breathed out suddenly, while your hands were lost in Tommy’s wavy hair. They pulled away from you slightly at the same time, respecting your uncertainty.

“What is it, darlin’?” Tommy asked you gently.

“I… uh. Fuck.” You looked at him with a mixture of different emotions in the eyes. Joel stood in front of you, side by side with his brother.

“I…damn. I’m a virgin”, you finally confessed, looking down at the ground.

“What the…” Joel said with raised eyebrows, pulling away from you and taking a few steps into the basement, hands on hips.

“Well… I played with dildos but… not real dicks.”

“Christ, darlin’ we can't… We can’t do that” said Tommy, shaking his head.

“You’re a virgin? How is it even possible? I mean… You’re screaming for our cocks and you never took one?” added Joel.

“I just… I dated guys but they were jerks. I never wanted to fuck one of them. Plus…”

“Plus what?” asked Joel.

Alcohol gave you some courage, or unconsciousness, and you murmured “I couldn’t get Tommy out of my head.”

“No shit”, chuckled Joel, “my little bro is a crush of his best friend's daughter…”

“Shut up, Joel. Darlin’, what are you talking-”

“Oh come on, Tommy. You saw how I looked at you. And I saw how you looked at me. I’m an adult. And… you’re hot. Both of you. We can have fun, right? I guess you don't fuck virgins every day. I just need you to go slow."

“No. No way. We can’t do that. Not here, not now… we can’t do that Joel. It was one thing to fuck her. But having her first time with us here? With her father upstairs? No way.”

“Alright, alright. What if… We’d do other things?”

“What things?”

“Using our hands and mouths. We could play with her mouth too.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. And she drank too much to think clearly”, said Tommy.

“She wasn’t drunk when she was teasing us as soon as we arrived. You want this, baby?” Joel asked, looking at you.

“Yes”, you answered firmly.

“Both of us?”

“Yes.”

Joel moved closer to you, took off your dress, and whistled before looking at his brother.

“We have fun. But we don’t fuck her. Not with our cocks, at least.”

“That’s twisted, Joel”, Tommy murmured, but without being able to take his eyes off your body.

“That’s hot as fuck.”

“Fuck… Ok. Ok...”

A few seconds later, you found yourself on the couch in that basement with Tommy’s shoulders between your thighs.

“Your panties’re soaked, baby, jesus…” he said.

“Told you I wanted it…” you flirted.

“Fuck”, he said, caressing your folds through the fabric, before removing them and spreading your thighs slightly to reveal your pussy. “Damn, look at that, Joel…”

Joel moved closer and Tommy spread you further, so his brother had a perfect view of your bare, dripping pussy.

“What a juicy cunt… Already all swollen up. Can’t wait to taste it. But you go first, man.”

“Yeah”, Tommy breathed out just before he licked a long stripe from your folds to your clit.

You were already moaning at this new sensation. So different from the one you felt when you were making yourself come with your fingers, or even a sex toy. Tommy's tongue ran through your folds, his mustache and beard tickled your fine skin. Then danced at your core, and swirled over your clit, and you didn't know whether to hold on to his hair or his shoulders. Sometimes you would open your eyes and watch Joel, staring where his brother was eating you out, his hand squeezing his crotch to relieve the tension. Tommy pushed one finger in your cunt, and you stared at Joel as you came on Tommy’s finger, his tongue resting on your clit.

“Fuck, that’s hot baby, seeing you all spread like that for my brother…”

Tommy was so pussy drunk from being the first one to lick you that he almost came in his boxers when you clenched on his finger and moaned. He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you felt slightly embarrassed seeing how his mustache and beard glistened from your wetness. Then he got up and slowly pulled his cock out of his pants, and you saw the red, dripping tip of his thick length.

“You wanna suck my cock, darlin’?”

You nodded enthusiastically, but Joel firmly told you “words, baby.”

“Yes. Yes, I wanna suck your cock, Tommy.”

“You’ve never sucked a cock before either?” Joel asked as he in turn knelt between your thighs.

“No… uh Joel? Are you gonna…?”

“Eat ya? Yeah. Fuck yeah. Ya want it?”

“Yeah…Yeah, I want it.”

“You got it, then.”

He spat on your cunt and you gasped, then he spread it with his thumb, careful not to overstimulate you.

“How many times did you get off thinking about my brother, baby?” he asked before licking your soaking pussy.

“A… a lot”, you whimpered, your hands tightening his curls, as you spread your legs as wide as possible to give him full access.

“Yeah, you got off, thinking of my brother’s tongue in your cunt? His fingers? His cock?”

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

“Damn, little brother. What a good little toy we got here...”

The way he was talking about you made you moan, and he buried his tongue between your folds.

Thinking that his brother was eating your pussy a few minutes before was turning you on like never before.

Thinking that the first time someone went down on you, he did it in front of his brother, before he took his place. And you were already wondering if you could convince Tommy to make them take your virginity, and if Joel would lie down between your thighs after his brother. Filling you both with their cum. The thought, coupled with Joel's tongue, made you cum a second time so quickly that you didn’t feel it coming.

“She’s so sensitive…I wonder how many times we’re gonna make her cum, Tommy.”

Tommy was lazily jerking off while watching his brother eat you out. When your shaking stopped, his eyes darkened and he said “sit down, sweetheart. Will be easier to blow me.”

You obeyed, blushing slightly under their gaze on your bare body, but eager to taste his thick cock.

You had watched tons of porn and knew how to do it. But you wanted to hear Tommy tell you what to do, to be in charge. You let him grab your chin between his fingers, and lift it towards him. Applying a light pressure to it.

“Open up for me, darlin’.”

You parted your lips, and he bent over, dropping his saliva in your mouth, which you swallowed right away.

“Gonna be sloppy for me?”

You nodded, eyes fixed on him.

“Stick out your tongue and lick my slit, baby. Wanna see your pretty throat swallow what I’m givin’ you.”

You darted your tongue out and twirled it around his tip, then swallowed his precum. Tasting it for the first time. He held his cock tightly in his hand while the other was holding the back of your head as he pushed his tip between your lips.

Joel had just finished another beer and was watching you suck his brother while palming his crotch.

“How is she?”, he asked.

“Good. Fuckin’ good. A little shy and unsure. It's fuckin’ hot.”

“Can you imagine, her first time playing naughty for real, she wants not one, but two cocks? What kinda slut does that?”

If Joel thought he was embarrassing you by talking about you like that, he was wrong. You pulled back and your eyes fixed on his brother, as you asked feigning shy tone “you like being sucked by your best friend’s daughter, Tommy?” Batting your long eyelashes at him, making Joel chuckle “well, damn…”

“Fuck… You’re a naughty thing, darlin’, aren’t ya? Naughty things like you don’t keep their mouths empty. Keep suckin’.”

You smiled and took him back in your mouth, applying yourself, attentive to his moans and sucking him according to his sensitivity.

Joel opened two beers and offered one to his brother who took sips regularly, his other hand resting on the back of your head while fucking your mouth and throat. Joel sat on the couch next to you, and took out his cock, wanking slowly while drinking his beer too.

“I think my brother needs some relief, baby. Be a good girl and lie down.”

Once laid down, Joel spread your thighs indecently, exposing your soaking wet pussy.

“Gonna let me play with that little cunt, sweetheart?”

You nodded, just before Tommy slipped his cock back in your mouth. Drinking his beer at the same time. Being used like this was turning you on more and more. Both of them still had their clothes on, and you found it so hot. Making you feel even more used.

“Imagine how tight she must be. How she’d squeeze our cocks, if we fucked her like she begs to be. One day, don’t freak out little brother.”

“I know, fuck, stop talking about that or I’m gonna nut.”

Joel smirked and spread your glistening folds with his thumbs and you felt your wetness flowing down to your asshole. He spat on your cunt and you moaned.

“She just loves that,” Tommy smirked, thrusting deeper in your throat.

Joel hummed, and brushed his beer bottle between your folds, and you tensed noticeably.

“Come on, Joel, don’t be a jerk.”

Joel chuckled again, and said “you know I won’t do that. I’m not gonna split her open with a bottle. At least not for her first time. Just wanted to spice up my beer.”

He took a sip of his beer, covered with your wetness.

“Way better, now.”

“Fuck”, said Tommy, watching him.

Joel rubbed his shaft along your folds, making you moan, mouth full of Tommy’s cock. Feeling his cock against your pussy was an overwhelming sensation. So different from feeling a cold dildo. Your hips rolled against Joel’s shaft and he growled.

“Don’t fuck her, Joel”, Tommy warned.

“Yeah. I know. Fuck, I know, I know. Her cunt is trying to swallow me, man, you see that?”

“Yeah… Our little whore. When did you become such a cockslut, baby? Your father raised you as a good, proper girl, and look at you playing with our fat cocks…not that I'm complaining, takin’ such good care of us, damn.”

Joel’s precum was mixing with your wetness and he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ ‘m gonna come soon… gonna shoot my load on that pretty pussy, cover her in white, fuck…”

“Suck my balls, baby… gonna come soon too.”

Tommy grabbed his big balls and let them cover your mouth and chin as he started to jerk off. You licked, sucked his balls eagerly, like you've seen dozens of times in porns.

“Look at that Joel, holy shit. Better than your lollipop, uh darlin’?”

“See brother, who gives a shit she’s your best friend's daughter? We could rail her all summer, ruin her pretty holes every fucking day. Teach her how to be a perfect fuck.”

Their dirty talk, the way they were talking about you as if you weren’t even here, made you melt and despite your sore jaw, you couldn’t stop licking Tommy’s balls, still jerking off.

“Fuck, darlin’, yeah just like that. Keep suckin’ my balls. Oh god. Fuck!”

His cum spurted out, white pearls falling onto your hair and face as his hand held your mouth pressed against his balls.

You heard Joel growl and he grabbed your hand, holding it against his shaft sliding along your folds, until he came too, his cum covering your pussy and fingers. His jerks against your clit made you cum one last time, your pussy desperately empty, and you only wished to squeeze their shafts soon enough.

“Jesus… you dried our balls so good, baby.”

They tucked their cocks into their jeans, looking at you still lying on the couch covered in their cum, breathing heavily. Tommy brought you a towel and they helped you up.

“You liked it baby? You liked being a good slut for us?

“Never felt better, actually”, you smiled.

The next morning when you came down for breakfast, your father had already made you coffee and toasts.

“Did you have a good evening, sweetie? I think I passed out… Did you help me in to my bedroom? I can’t remember a thing, I'm sorry sweetie.”

“I did, don’t worry ‘bout that, dad, it’s totally ok!”

“I wasn't a very good host or proper father last night. Wasn't it too much work to put everything back together?”

“No, don’t worry. Tommy and Joel helped me.”

“Oh great. I’m glad they helped you, can’t say I’m surprised they did. They’re good Texans, with proper manners.”

“They really are”, you smiled warmly.

That evening, you knocked on Tommy's door. Joel's figure appeared behind him when he opened it.

“I want more,” you murmured.

Part 2

***********

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #joel x reader x tommy #friends of juice collective

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thelikesofus · 9 months ago

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Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend.

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There) by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again.

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family.

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious.

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD.

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC!

#buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fic rec list 5 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 #911 fic recs #meegs rec list

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thatssonanii · 2 months ago

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Chapter Fifteen

A/N: Still getting back into the swing of things and repair is still going on all over the city BUT I was able to finish this chapter! (Yay!) Hope yall enjoy it! Oh and shout to the anon who told me about my masterlist! All of them are working now!! Listen, I'm not gonna yie to yall ... this one is a lil heavy! Reblog, Share, Comment and Like!

Warning: Cursing, Fighting, Death, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Masterlist

Chapter Fourteen

DO NOT POST MY WORK ANYWHERE ELSE AND/OR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!

Being back in Texas usually gave Hassan a sense of dread and joy, both for obvious reasons but this time was different for him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the actual feelings he was having but if he had to put a label on it, they would be feelings of contentment. He had been the protector for as long as he could remember but today he felt protected. They way Tamara took charge since they stepped foot back in the state. Although he expected her to want him to do all the talking with his ex-wife, she didn’t. Besides a short greeting, he hadn’t been able to say a word. Tamara was covering all the bases and then some.

“So as I was saying, I wanted to make sure you and I are on the same page with everything.”

They sat at the breakfast table, Hassan and Tamara on one side and Nadine on the other. The women maintaining eye contact, smiles on their faces.

“I hate that you traveled all this way and wasted your time.” Nadine shrugged. “You and I don’t need to be on the same page about anything. I didn’t marry you nor did I lay down and have a kid with you which makes you insignificant to me, Tara.”

“It’s Tamara but you’re a smart chick so I know you already knew that. I get it, I understand,” she stressed, “Hassan is a great man and a great partner so it’s hard to realize that he’s moved on to someone else but that is the reality of the situation.”

Nadine glanced at her mute ex husband and chuckled. “You think you’re special? You know how many women he’s entertained after our divorce? None of them lasted because they were not me and you’ll be the same way. San loves me and will always love me.”

Tamara reached across the table to hold her hand. “Nadine, it doesn’t matter to me whether you accept this or you decide to continue to be delusional about it. But just know if you choose the latter, Hassan will no longer be taking your calls which also need to decrease in number.”

“Hassan would never,” she spat, snatching her hand back.

She smiled. “He would because you know like I know Hassan respects his relationships. Look, Moriah is already no contact with you. I’m sure you don’t want your only point of contact for her to be gone. Do you?”

Nadine tilted her head then moved her attention to her ex-husband. “You better get your little woman on a leash. You need to help her understand that threatening me is not something that she wants to do.”

Hassan, as calm as always, put a hand on Tamara’s arm to stop her before she responded. “She is not threatening you. She is simply explaining to you what is gonna happen if we cannot come to an agreement.”

“She doesn’t have anything to do with whatever agreement or non agreement that you and I have, Hassan. None. I don’t even know why you brought this bitch to my house!”

“His house,” Tamara chuckled, catching Hassan’s pointed look, “Sorry but its the truth.”

“Oh so you got her all in our business, huh? She’s met my daughter, she’s in our divorce decree. Hell, what else have you told her, Hassan?”

He wiped his hand down his face. This is why he hated to have communication with her. The smallest things would get blown out of proportion just to satisfy her. More than two decades of her never changing but progressively getting worse had made him tired.

“If you’re asking what I know you’re asking then no, I have not told her that. Nadine, we have to move into a better place for the sake of me and for the sake of my relationship. Moriah is an adult so I no longer owe you a relationship, an explanation or an update in or about my life. The only thing I will continue to extend to you is cordiality and updates passed through Moriah specifically for you.” He paused to allow her to speak. When she didn’t he continued, he did. “If you cannot accept these terms then unless there is an emergency, you and I will no longer be speaking.”

Nadine covered her face, chuckling a little to herself. Her phone vibrated on the table in front of her, when she brought her hands down and spotted the name she quickly grabbed it, excusing herself from the table to the nearest bathroom.

“Hey. Everything okay,” she whispered.

“Oh, are you working? I’m sorry, I got your schedule mixed up.”

“You’re fine, DJ. I’m not at work. I have guests and I don’t want them in my business.”

He laughed at that. “Just call me back later. I just wanted to check on you. Enjoy your company.”

“I don’t see that happening.Hassan is here and he’s brought his new girlfriend,” she scoffed.

Dewayne paused to think about his response. Despite his lover’s feelings, he couldn’t find a bad thing to say about Hassan. When the two met by way of his cousin, he expected to have to fight the other man or get into an argument but none of that happened. Hassan was polite, he was calm, he was collected. All things Nadine never described him to be, it caught him off guard. But even if she had described him as such, Dewayne knew how he would act if he had to meet the man that was sleeping with his wife and it wouldn’t be anything like the other man.

“Nadine, just listen to whatever they have to say, keep your smart comments to a minimum and it’ll be over quickly.” He spoke softly, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way. The line went silent for a moment. “Beautiful, you still there?”

“I’m here and fine.” She let out a frustrated puff of air. “I’ll call you when they leave.”

“Good. Straighten your face, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Returning to the table, Nadine looked between the couple with a small, polite smile. She could tell that the two of them had some type of conversation that had put Tamara in a much brighter mood. She made a note to check her cameras later.

“Sorry about that. An important call.” She moved her chair closer to the table so she could prop her elbows on it. “Hassan, I’m happy for you. Glad you’ve found someone to be happy with, that’s … it's great. And I understand that your girlfriend is uncomfortable with the communication between us.”

Tamara raised a brow and spoke up. “That’s not what I said.”

Nadine continued to talk, not acknowledging the other woman’s interjection. “So if it will make her more secure in your relationship then I will try to be more mindful. I will send you a text before I call and you can let me know if it is a good time or not.”

Hassan put his hand on Tamara’s thigh, squeezing it gently knowing she was going to interject again. “A text would do fine. But one text. If I don’t answer right away please do not bombard me with more texts or call anyway.”

“Sure,” Nadine agreed with a smile. “I do have one ask though. I do not care that she has met Moriah or that they have a relationship as long as Moriah is okay with it. All I ask is that when it comes to matters between us and our daughter that she is not involved nor does she comment about it to me unless she is asked.”

Turning to the side, Tamara stared at the side of Hassan’s face and he could feel the anger radiating off of her. He knew what his girlfriend wanted but he also knew the only way they were going to get peace. Peace was much more important than buttons being pushed.

“I can agree to that but Tamara is going to be here for a while so as our relationship matures, she’s going to be allowed into conversations where appropriate. Just as I would allow if you decide to get serious with someone.”

Getting what she wanted brought a big, genuine smile to her face which she directed at Tamara. And seeing how upset the other woman was only made her happier.

“Well this was very … enlightening but I do have other things to do so if you two don’t mind leaving my house. Sorry I mean Hassan’s house,” Nadine laughed obnoxiously.

Hassan helped Tamara from her chair then pushed both of their chairs up. He allowed Tamara to walk in front of him. “Alright now, Nadine, that’s enough. There ain’t no need for that.”

Nadine shrugged, still laughing, “I’m just trying to have a little fin. Lighten the mood. It was nice meeting you, Tamara. Are you okay with me hugging you?”

Tamara glanced at Hassan, who nodded. Even though she was unsure, she accepted the hug not missing the words Nadine whispered into her ear. When the two pulled away, Nadnie moved to hug her ex-husband as well.

“Gabi wasn’t lying when she said Nadine was crazy,” Tamara mumbled, getting situated into their rental.

When therapy first started it scared Zilla much more than he cared to admit. There were so many emotions that he buried down so deep, he had no idea what his life would look like when or if they ever came up. But now more than ten sessions in with Dr. Barnes and it felt more like talking to an uncle about his issues. The emotions that had surfaced thus far didn’t affect anything negatively. Things were hard to talk about but the tools from the doctor made it easier for him. Even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he actually enjoyed their sessions. So much so that he opted for two hour sessions over the previous one.

“You remember I told you about that girl at work that like me?”

“The frog eyed girl,” Dr. Barnes chuckled. “Yes, I remember you telling me about Gia. What about her?”

Zilla stretched out on the sofa, tossing one of the small balls Dr. Barnes had around up in the air. “Aight so last week I’m in class or whatever, talkin’ to Bronco and Josh.”

“Josh? The cousin that doesn’t like Fat?” Dr. Barnes asked from his relaxed position.

Zilla nodded. “Yeah him. So I’m talkin’ to both of them and I get these texts from here back to back. She had sent me videos of her ya know and then gon say it was an accident.”

“And you don’t believe it was an accident?”

Zilla stopped throwing the ball up to look at the doctor with his face frowned up. “Hell nah. She did that shit on purpose.”

“I’m just asking,” he laughed, “Keep going. Why do you think it was on purpose?”

“She make it obvious as hell that she like me, always touchin me and shit and she always messaging me on instagram tryna flirt with me.”

“Wait, she texted the videos to your phone or on instagram?”

“She texted my phone, doc.”

Dr. Barnes flipped through his notes for a second then glanced up at the younger man. “That’s strange. You told me she didn’t have your number, that her correspondence were only on instagram.”

Yeah, I know.” Zilla paused then sat up. “How the fuck she got my number?”

Dr. Barnes pointed his pen at him. “That’s the question I have. You’re sure you never gave it to her?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do no shit like that to even make her think she had a chance with me.”

“So then she must have gotten your number from somewhere. Do you think it was your cousin?” He asked.

Zilla shook his head quickly. “Nah, he don’t like Fat but he not stupid.”

“Bronco?”

“No, he answered immediately.

“Then who do you think?”

“Don’t know, ima find out.” Zilla thought for a second, reminding himself to come back to that later. “But so I get the shit, I don’t respond or nothin’. I got my cousin on one side tellin me to delete it and act like it ain’t happen then I got B tellin me to tell Fat.”

“And what did you want to do?”

He shrugged. “Whatever was gonna keep me outta trouble with Fat. She already don’t like that girl and I don’t wanna be collateral damage in her way.”

“I get it, I know you don’t want to be in trouble but I know you know that honesty is the best answer. So what was the outcome?”

When Zilla didn’t see his girlfriend for two more days following that and she was off of night shift and when he did see her he could tell that Moriah was in no mood to hear any bad news. There were some things she was dealing with herself, things he tried to get her to talk about but she declined, so he didn’t want to add onto that.

“I ain’t said shit to her yet. She got some shit goin on and she still tryna bounce back from workin night shift.” He rubbed his hands together, falling backwards against the back of the sofa.

Dr. Barnes wrote a few notes and hummed. “I think you know what part of your homework is. Shifting gears to Fat, how are things?”

“Things is good. We good.”

He raised a brow. “You told me after you got tattoos for Angel you planned on having sex because she mentioned the two of you had barely been doing so since the revelation of Angel and what followed. However, when it came time you couldn’t and thankfully there was an interruption before she realized.” The two men made eye contact, a bashful look on Zilla’s face. “So I’ll ask again. How are you two? Are you still having an issue?”

“It sound bad but when we got back home she was tired so I didn’t have to try then she got on night shift and we wasn’t seein each other. But I did go visit her after a show that week and we had a quickie.”

“Yeah? Good. So you think that the issue has passed then?”

Zilla shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I’m attracted to Fat. I think she beautiful, fine as fuck, all that.”

“But,” Dr. Barnes asked.

He shrugged. “Just every time I think about it and I remember that we ain’t get rid of my condoms cause we wanna have a baby but cause we prolly can’t have one I can’t get hard. Like the shit don’t work at all.”

Taking a moment to write a few things down, Dr. Barnes observed Zilla’s body language. He was uncomfortable but it was manageable. “What was different with the quickie? What kept you from thinking about the other situation?”

He shrugged, a sneaky smile on his face. “We was havin a conversation then she caught me off guard askin me about Gia and she got all mad and shit. And it sound toxic as hell but she fine as shit when she get mad like that. So it was a mix of how she was lookin and talkin and the fact that it caught me off guard that I ain’t have time to dwell on the other shit.”

The older man laughed heartily, “It is toxic but I get it. I was young once. So do you think if you and her discussed it and she’s okay with it, that maybe going to get an opinion from a doctor about options and possibilities would make the problem stop? That way you have an answer or at least the direction of which way things could go.”

“Yeah, I think so. Maybe.” He scratched his face, sighing deeply. “Ima have to tell her though, ain’t I? Tell her that it ain’t workin.”

“That’s up to you, Zilla. I don’t think you have to tell her right now but you do need to discuss it with her at some point.”

“But what if we get the info from the doc and ion have the problem no more?”

“Then if you want to hide that from her then that’s your prerogative.”

Zilla groaned then repeated what Dr. Barnes drilled into him the first few sessions. “But being honest is the best option unless we know it’s going to hurt the other person for no reason.”

“I’m glad you finally remembered it correctly,” he laughed, “But like I said at the end of the day the choice is yours. If it makes you feel uncomfortable or emasculated you know you can always bring her to a session and I can be here to help.”

“Got rid of her damn mama and she still affecting my damn relationship with Fat. Can’t even do the fun shit.”

“She only affects what you allow, Zilla. She planted those seeds but it's your choice as to whether they get watered or not. Understand?”

“I got you, Doc.”

“Alright, any last minute admissions you wanna make before I give you your homework?”

“Naaaah,” he laughed, “Not this time.”

“Good. Your homework is to tell Fat about what Gia did. And I’ll send you a list of OBGYN that I think will be good for you two.”

“That’s it. Nothin else? You said that was half.”

Dr. Barnes stared at him. “Would you like for me to give you more? I was tryna take it easy on you but I can give you more.”

“Nope,” Zilla replied quickly getting up, “Nope, Zilla good. Zilla appreciate you, big dog.”

After he set up his next appointment, Zilla left the office and jumped into his car headed straight home. Moriah was off, he was off and he wanted to finally spend time with her. On the way home, he grabbed lunch for them and something to cheer her up. His mind went back and forth about the erectile issue he had been having, trying to figure out if he was going to tell her and hoping the issue cleared up on his own so he wouldn’t have to.

The music that flowed through his speakers stopped and alerted him that he had a call coming through. As soon as he saw Bronco's name, he answered.

“What good witchu?”

“You busy? You outta yo session?” Bronco asked in a rushed tone.

Zilla paused to merge onto the highway. “Yeah almost home. Everything good?”

“You talked to Gia?”

“Fuck no. You know I don’t talk to that delusional ass girl.”

“You sure you ain’t text her back or no shit?”

He blew a frustrated breath. “I’m sure. I opened it when we was all standing there and that was it. I ain’t text that girl. Why you askin me that?”

“Cause that ain’t what she tellin them other girls. Apparently she told them that after she told you that it was an accident that you told her it was aight and started flirtin with her and shit.”

“Man, you know I ain’t do no shit like that. I like my fuckin life and wanna keep my head on my fuckin shoulders, B. Ion even know how that bitch got my damn number.”

The thought that Gia was spreading that lie around made his blood boil. He regretted even being nice to her outside of the PC when he knew he shouldn’t have. He could stand being co-workers with her but now she was starting to step into the waters of his relationship and he couldn’t have that. They already had enough shit against them, they didn’t need anything else.

“I believe you but I had to check. How you think she got your number?”

“Shit don’t know but Ima find out, I know that much.” He pulled into his parking spot beside Moriah’s car and let out an aggravated groan. “Her ass need to go away. I’m not with this bullshit and Fat ain’t either.”

Bronco spoke to his brother in the background quickly. “Ima help you figure that shit out. I gotta go help Javi, hit me up if you need me, bro.”

Getting inside their shared apartment, Zilla put their food and her gift on the coffee table then went to the bedroom in search of her. He found her lying across the bed sleep with a pile of laundry in front of her. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed one of their empty baskets and dumped the clothes in it then climbed onto the bed hovering over her. He kissed all over her face until he saw her nose scrunch and a smile.

“You had these clothes in front of you before I left, Fat,” he laughed.

“I knoooow but then Mama called and I got distracted and then I fell asleep,” she pouted. “How was your session?”

Zilla kissed her face again then got off the bed pulling her with him. “It was good, I’ll tell you about it after you tell me what’s goin on with you.”

“What do you mean I’m okay.”

“Nah, you aint. I can tell when you got something on your mind and in that fat ass head,” he joked. He pulled her out to the living room and plopped down on the sofa. “Zilla even let you sit in his lap while you tell him all about it.”

With a shake of her head, Moriah eased into his lap sitting sideways so she could look at him. His hand rubbed up and down her bare thigh, giving her his undivided attention.

“When I brought your bag up to the performance center, I ran into Josh. He took me to where you were and I watched for a second and he talked to me.”

“He talked to you?” His nostrils flared when she nodded. “He told yall ain’t talk and he aint tell me you came back there but go head.”

“I’m sure he didn’t tell you because then he would have had to tell you what he said to me.” She huffed trying to keep herself from crying over the memory. “He was telling me to save you some hurt and break up with you to save you from my mama bitter and destructive genes.”

“He said that shit to you? Fat, why you ain’t tell me?”

“Cause I was upset and I knew if you saw me crying that you woulda beat his ass and I didn’t want you to get in trouble at work. When I left out I did run into Bronco and I talked to him. He helped me cheer up.”

Zilla started to put the pieces together in his head. It now made sense to him why his cousin didn’t tell him about their interaction, why Bronco had been giving Josh the looks that he did and why Moriah barely wanted to talk when he called to check on her that night. It was Josh. Josh had done something that Zilla was sure he said not to do. Trying to spare Josh because of their familial bond wasn’t something Zilla was interested in anymore.

“Did you hear what I said, Zay?”

His eyes snapped back up to hers. “Nah my bad. Tell me again.”

“I said don’t fight your cousin. Let’s just ignore him, please.”

He kissed her shoulder a few times. “I can’t do that. I gotta show him that I mean what I say. Ion play bout you. I gave him two chances already.”

“Zay, please. He hurt my feelings so I should be the one to decide what happens to him.”

Dropping his head to his shoulder, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. She was right and he knew it but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Fine, if that’s what you want, Fat. But this is the third chance. There won’t be another one.”

“There won’t be another one because you’re not gonna give him room to have an opinion about our relationship. Lay out your boundaries and make them clear,” she shrugged. “Yall can still be family and not talk about me.”

“He made you cry,” he huffed seeing the pout on her face, “Okay, aight boundaries and all that shit. You happy?”

“Very. Thank you, baby. And there’s one more thing I need to tell you and I’m sure you’re not gonna agree to not beat this one up.”

He raised a brow at her. “What Thomas do?”

She laughed at his reaction. “The way you already knew but I ran into him in Target after that whole thing with Josh.”

“The fuck he do to you?”

“He didn’t technically do anything to me, it’s what he said. He tried to give me this bullshit about how our careers might be in jeopardy because of the little girl who had the hernia surgery. Saying that me and him did something wrong.”

He frowned, tilting his head a bit. “You and him did something wrong? How he figure that?”

“Exactly! I told him that I didn’t do shit and whatever he did is on him. He was the one doing things when the doctor turned his back. And I feel like he’s gonna try to put me in his shit if something happens to that little girl.”

“If you want me to, I’ll go have a lil conversation with him. Make sure he don’t.” He offered softly, moving his hand from her thigh to her face. “Whatever way you want Zilla to support you, that’s what Zilla gon do. Just let me know.”

“What if I don’t know what I want? What if I just want you to do what you think is best?” She asked, meeting his gaze.

“That’s fine, Fat. We can do that, baby. Whatever you want.”

“I love you, Zay.”

“Zilla love you too.” He kissed her then grabbed his phone from his pocket passing it to her. “Unlock it and go to my messages. Its a 464 number, open that.”

Doing what he said, she went to the thread prepared to ask him what was going on. A frown took over her face as the video played.

“Um what the fuck, Isayah? Who the hell is this?”

“The day Josh was at the PC, Gia sent me that. She claimed it was an accident but then told some other girls on the roster that I was flirtin with her.” He held her hips when she tried to get off his lap. “Chill you see that thread and you know ion want that girl. You know I only want you, Moriah.”

“How the hell that frog eyed bitch get your number anyway? She really want me to beat her ass, sending you some shit like knowing I’m not the one to play with.”

“Ion know how she got it, I’m tryna figure that out too. I can’t let you beat her ass though, I can’t do that.”

Moriah’s body jerked to turn more in his lap. “What do you mean you can’t let me? You protecting that frog eyed bitch? Do I need to beat your ass too?”

He laughed, bringing her face to his so he could kiss her. “Ain’t protectin her, I’m protectin you and your career. She look like she can’t fight so I know you gon beat her ass and she might call them people on you. My Fat too pretty to go to jail.”

“Ion care about that, she need to stop playing with me. Ima show her what happens when people play with me,” Moriah spat trying to move out of his hold.

“Nah, nah, nah. You not finna fuck up what you worked hard to build up. You not about to let somebody that don’t matter ruin you or us. Aight?”

She rolled her eyes, obviously irritated. “I’m just supposed to let her do that?”

“Ima get that handled, don’t worry about that shit. I just wanted to make sure you knew what was goin on.” He lifted her chin when he noticed her gaze was wandering away from his.”Don’t no queen come queen come off her throne to address no peasant, baby. Let me do this. Please.”

As mad as she was, she had to admit that she liked him wanting to take care of it on his own for her and that he cared enough about her livelihood and her life even when she didn’t. The love he had for her was evident in the fact that he was so ready to go to war with her but as soon as she even thought about having her own war, he sat that aside and stepped into hers. Some parts of their story may not have been ideal but moments like this made her remember why she loved it so much.

“Okay, Zay. I’ll let you handle it.” She leaned down to kiss him then put her forehead against his. “But the next time, that bitch may not be so lucky. So she better be thankful.”

He bit his lip, his impure thoughts running rampant again. “Yes ma’am, Fat.”

A soft gasp escaped feeling the twitch against her. “Zay, really?”

“I can’t help it,” he laughed softly. “My bad.”

“Uhuh,” she laughed, “You better help it because I’m hungry.”

“I can feed you, Fat.”

“I’m hungry for food not dick, Isayah.” She laughed moving off his lap. “Stop playin so we can eat.”

Knowing this probably wouldn’t happen again later, Zilla pulled her close to him kissing up her neck. “You know I can make it quick. Real quick then you can eat.”

“Zay,” she pouted softly. “I’m hungry.”

“And so am I.” He whispered in her ear. “Zilla even let you get on top. Please, Fat.”

She turned in his arms, staring at him trying to ignore the grin on his face. “You lucky you’re cute when you beg.”

The only Parker women allowed in Leata’s house sat around her living room, bringing happiness and peace to her already calm home. Everything with Nadine still sat in her mind but to see the kids thriving and having these ladies around her again after a long while helped her push Nadine to the back of her mind.

“I hate to ruin the mood but you have yet to tell me what my daughter did that had you upset in Target.” Trenice said pointedly then took a sip of her tea. “And before you start your usual thing, I don’t care if she was little baby Jesus, wrong is wrong and I want you to tell me about it.”

Leata and Kamille shared a laugh.

“After Moriah shared with me about having her tubes tied, Kamille agreed to have me over to talk to Nadine. I’ll admit I did not go over there in the best mood,” she explained.

Trenice wagged her finger. “No ma’am. You don’t need to preface it. I know how you were feeling and I understand. Keep going.”

“I just asked her straight out if that’s what she did and why she did. We went back and forth for a second and she talked about the boys father then she wished death on my baby. And I,” she paused to collect herself, “I had enough of letting her slide with her remarks and I slapped her.”

Kamille laughed. “Correction. You slapped the crap outta her. Mama, she hit the floor and everything.”

“Kamille,” the older woman admonished with a small smile, “That’s not nice. Don’t laugh. But I will say if anyone deserved it, my daughter most definitely did. You do not let anybody talk about any of your babies in that manner. She was raised better than that but when that thing gets backed into a corner, she can be as vicious as a lioness.”

“Oh trust me, I know, Trenice. But she met her match. The only reason I was letting it slide before was for Rye but now that Rye has done what she should have done years ago, I’m done as well.”

“Sometimes our absence teaches people more than our presence.”

“Mama, that was deep,” Kamille joked. “Maybe I need to find her a man. That’ll do it. She hasn’t had one since Hassan. And that was a very long time ago.”

Leata snorted while taking a sip of her coffee. “Nadine has a man and has had one since before her and San divorced.”

Mother and daughter paused to stare at the other woman. “Repeat that for me.” Kamille said in a serious tone.

“And me as well.”

“Oh I guess she never told you guys. Too busy in Rye’s business.” Leata sassed. “She had an affair with Eddie’s cousin while she was married to Hassan. She didn’t know they were cousins, don’t know how but she didn’t at first. But that didn’t stop her.”

Trenice looked between her tea and the other women. “I’m gonna need to add some whiskey to this. Did Hassan know?”

“Not at first but when Eddie found out, he told his cousin and he told Hassan. Had the two of them meet.” She recounted, situating herself on the sofa. “As far as I know, she doesn’t know that he even knows.”

“So did the cousin stop once they met?” Kamille asked.

“For a little while, not long. The two of them kept at it and still are. He’s loved Nadine for a long time and I think in some way, she loves him too but I don’t think she would ever make it official with him.”

“Well yeah because if she did that she knows what a hypocrite she’d be for all the time she spent bad mouthing this family,” Trenice added. “Is that the real reason she stopped liking you and your family?”

“Yup, she was trying to make sure Eddie didn’t tell San but that obviously still happened.”

The room fell silent, only the low hum of the cool air blowing from the air conditioner could be heard.It probably wasn’t the best thing to share and she remembered promising Eddie that she wouldn’t tell a single soul unless Hassan told first. He was just going to have to forgive her for breaking this one promise. The way that Nadine had rained hell all over Moriah and Zilla, she deserved this and then some. There wasn’t much she could do that could match the level of treachery that Nadine imposed but getting as close to it as possible was good enough for her.

Kamille broke the silence clearing her throat. “So tell me to mind my business but how long has it been? If you know.”

Leata counted quietly to herself. “Since Rye was about eight and she’s 26 now, so18 years.”

Both Parker women choked on their tea, sputtering and coughing. “18 years? You have got to be kidding me right now.” Trenice sat her mug aside to get herself together. “There is no way that girl cried to me about getting divorced when she spent half if not more of her marriage sleeping with another man.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she responded matter of factly. “I think it was like a year or so that they weren’t seeing each other.”

“My head hurts,” Kamille complained.

Trenice mumbled a bit to herself and God, trying to collect her thoughts.”When I get my hands on her she may find the sense we thought you lost. Got the nerve to be running around here tryna keep her away from your family all the while dipping into it herself.”

“Well at least we see where Rye got her taste in men from.” Kamille joked.

“I’m pretty sure I already know the answer,” Trenice sighed, “Does Rye know?”

“No, she knows nothing about it. I’m sure she doesn’t even remember meeting him.” Leata shrugged.

Kamille put her mug down on the coffee table and threw her hands up, “He met Moriah? My niece … Rye … he met her?”

“Yes ma’am,” Leata answered coolly. “Multiple times. That’s the only part Hassan doesn’t know. Before Rye was old enough to stay home alone or we would be busy and she couldn’t come over when Hassan would be out of town and they had plans, Nadine took Rye along with her.”

“And so what … she was just sitting around waiting on them to finish?” Kamille asked, bewildered by her sister’s actions.

Leata shrugged. “If he had his daughter then they would play together while her and him were in the other room. If she didn’t, she would play and watch TV. He always bought toys and things for her so there was always something.”

“Wow. Just wow.” Kamille scoffed. “I can’t believe her. It’s one thing to cheat on your husband

but it’s another to take your kid with you and introduce them to your affair partner.”

Trenice sat quietly drowning out her daughter and Leata. She started to think back trying to remember if there was anything she missed or overlooked with Nadine. Anything that was said or done that wasn’t quite right but she let it slide at the time. That daughter of hers had ways about her that had been lying dormant clearly waiting for the right opportunity to slip out. Trenice massaged her temple trying to will the oncoming migraine.

“Mama, you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just … a lot to process. It’s like I don’t even know this girl that I carried and birthed. The older she gets, the more I find out about her and I don’t like it.”

Kamille rubbed her mother’s back. “I know, Mama. I feel the same way.”

“Please don’t stress yourself out, Trenice. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought after all this time you guys should know what’s going on.” Leata sat her mug down and stood from the sofa. “I’ll get you some advil, stretch out on the sofa if you need to.”

Kamille helped her mother lay back on the sofa, she kneeled beside her on the floor and brushed her hair back from her face. “Mama, you been taking your medicine?”

“Of course, I have. I don’t miss a day and if I did you know your daddy would have a fit if I didn’t.” Trenice chuckled. “I’m alright, you worry too much.”

“That may be true but so what? You my mama and I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Disguised as an early run before heading to work, Bronco and Zilla rode out together in the latter’s blacked out mustang. The car cruised through the still dark, early morning streets. When Zilla called his friend the night before while Moriah was showering, Bronco was immediately down for whatever moves needed to be made and used a few of his connections in the city to find Thomas’ address. Draped in all black they approached the small townhouse, taking notice of his lack of cameras and security as his yard was missing the ‘ADT’ sign that all his other neighbors had. He was living in a false sense of security or he couldn’t afford it and that would be his downfall.

Bronco knocked on the door, careful not to bang too hard and scare him then both men stepped out of range for the peephole. He was getting ready for work so it would be an easy trip. As soon as the door opened, Bronco pushed the smaller man back into the house and followed him in with Zilla right behind, closing the door behind them.

“What the … look I don’t have any money.” Thomas offered, stumbling back. “Just take whatever you want and leave.” He was visibly shaken and scared. He trembled slightly at the two men hovering over him.

“I thought we talked about this, Dr. Gardner.” Zilla spoke softly as he flipped on the nearest light switch. He smiled when he saw the recognition on Thomas’ face. “Did we not?”

“I’m calling the police!” He tried to move around Bronco but was snatched back and tossed onto his sofa, he landed with an audible grunt. “I haven’t done anything to her! Why are you here?” He attempted to get up but one buck from Bronco and he was backing down.

“Man, sit yo ass back and shut up. Always runnin yo damn mouth, that’s why you can’t follow directions.” Bronco barked.

“The lil girl you mentioned to Fat when you saw her in Target. That shit sound familiar?” Zilla asked, moving closer to him.

Thomas extended his hands in surrender. “Listen, I was trying to warn her. I didn’t want her to be blindsided in the event something happened to the little girl.”

Zilla stared at him. “Warn her for what? What she had to do with that?”

“She was in the surgery with me. I saw her.”

“You seen sis do what?” Bronco asked, moving closer.

Thomas stuttered, scooting to the other end of the sofa. “I saw her when the doctor turned his back.” As Thomas was continuing his rebuttal, the back of Zilla’s hand connected with his mouth. He cried out in pain, holding his bleeding mouth.

Zilla grabbed him by his shirt, bringing him up from the sofa, eye level to him. “You think she stupid or some shit? You think she ain’t gon remember what she did and didn’t do in that surgery?”

“I didn’t say that,” he struggled in the larger man’s grip. “I didn’t.”

“That’s what the fuck it sound like to me,” Zilla grunted, still holding on to him. “Or you think she gon lie for you?” Yeah, that’s what you think.”

Throwing the man down to the floor, Zilla and Bronco took turns kicking him in his sides ignoring the shouts of protest. The beatdown lasted for at least five minutes before Bronco snatched him up from the floor again, making him stand up. They smiled now, able to see the extent of their handy work. Thomas wobbled, holding his sides whimpering softly.

“If something happen to that lil girl and Fat get in that shit, that hospital gon be down a med student. Feel me?” Zilla asked, staring straight into his eyes.

Thomas nodded, wincing slightly. “I hear you.”

“And you know we ain’t shit to play with,” Bronco added. “We was nice to yo ass this time, next time we won’t be. Comprende?”

Zilla started to walk away but circled back, shaking his finger in Thomas’ direction. “I know I prolly don’t needa say this but our talk stays between us.”

“Okay, okay, just leave.”

Bronco snarled at him. “Aye, mind ya manners. Rude ass.”

The friends walked out the door, closing it behind them leaving Thomas to collect himself. He crumpled down onto the sofa, gingerly checking his mouth then his ribs. Leaning his head back on the sofa, he started to wish he never got himself involved in any of it. Although he liked Moriah and thought she was beautiful, she was not worth all of the pain and turmoil she had come with.

“Somebody help her! Please help my daughter!”

Hearing the yells from the waiting room, Moriah and Toni rushed out to see what was going on. Mrs. Jones stood in the middle of the room with her daughter cradled in her arms who had tears streaming down her face. Moriah rushed to her, taking Nia from her gently.

“What happened?” Moriah asked, leading them into a bay with an empty bed.

Mrs.Jones wiped at her eyes and nose. “We were at my mom’s house and she was playing with her cousins and then she started screaming and holding her stomach. She kept saying that it hurt.”

Moriah started to check her out, comforting her as much as she could. “I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Does it hurt when I press your tummy?”

Nia nodded, tears still streaming. “Yes.”

“Okay, sweetie. Mom, did she vomit?”

“Yeah, she did. She vomited on the floor there and in the car.” Mrs. Jones answered, keeping her eyes on her daughter.

Moriah and Toni made eye contact, then looked down at Nia who started to convulse. “I got her, T. I got it.”

“I’ll go page Dr.Harris!”

“Mrs. Jones, I got her, I promise.” Moriah assured as calmly as she could while trying to stabilize Nia. “Where’s your husband?”

“He’s …. He’s um he’s at work.” She stuttered out.

“Okay, why don’t you go step out and call him? I’m sure he wants to know what’s going on.” Moriah suggested.

“I don’t wanna leave her. What if she needs me?”

Moriah gave her a sympathetic smile. “I promise I will take care of her while you’re gone. And if she asks for you while you’re out, I will come get you. Okay?”

Reluctantly, Mrs. Jones agreed, just as she was stepping out of the bay Dr. Harris and Toni stepped back in. Both sanitizing their hands then donning gloves then moved to the opposite side of the bed.

“How long has she’s been seizing?” He asked.

“At least three minutes. Her mom said she started to complain of intense stomach pain, she vomited twice and from what I can feel by touching her, she’s got a fever.” Moriah rattled off.

Nia’s body finally stopped convulsing and she laid out, shallow breathing and barely conscious. Dr. Harris rubbed her cheek gingerly, trying to coax her awake. “Hey, little bit. Open your eyes for me,” he demanded gently. “Let’s see those brown eyes, girl.”

Her eyes fluttered bringing a small smile to their faces.

“There she is,” Moriah cooed. “Can you keep em open for us?”

She tried to keep them open then reached for her stomach, cradling it in pain and crying. “It hurts! It hurts!”

“I know, little bit. I have to touch your stomach so I can try and help. It might hurt a little.” Dr. Harris nodded for Moriah and Toni to help stretch her back out. He lifted her shirt and as gently as he could pressed around her belly button and abdomen. “I’m sorry, almost done. Did you do a check, Nurse DeBreaux?”

“Yes sir.”

“What did you feel?” He asked, now moving to listen to her heart.

“Like a big, hard knot.”

Dr. Harris went quiet for a moment then told Toni what pain medicine to give Nia. He motioned for Moriah to join him outside the bay. He closed the sliding door to the bay, his hands going to his hips as frustration plagued his face.

“I know you’re not a doctor but I wanna hear what you think that is.”

Moriah bit her lip, slightly nervous to offer her own medical opinion. “Bowel obstruction or rupture I think.”

Dr. Harris nodded. “Caused by?”

She shrugged. “Either the hernia came back or something went wrong during surgery.”

“Something went wrong with surgery,” he repeated, staring down at her. “Do you know what?”

“I don’t know exactly what and I did not do it.” She answered quickly.

He hummed, glancing back in the room at the little girl. “But you saw something?”

“Yes. Me and a few other nurses as well.”

It was unusual to see Dr. Harris do anything but smile, it unsettled Moriah even though she knew she wasn’t to blame for it. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and think on his next move.

“I need blood work, x-rays and a cat scan immediately. Take her now then take her to the pediatric ICU, I’ll meet you there.” Dr. Harris ordered. “I’m gonna go find Dr. Miller and Dr. Gardner. We’re gonna fix her up and then we’re getting to the bottom of everything.”

“Yes sir.”

The four adults stood in front of the scans and x-rays pretty much understanding the severity of the situation. There was a rupture in her bowels which led to the pain Nia was having. Dr. Miller stared a hole in the side of Thomas’ face while Dr. Harris wasn’t looking and Moriah looked everywhere but at him.

“You see that there? The two inch line?” Dr. Harris asked, pointing to the x-ray. “That is a rupture. I won’t know if it was man made or her body did it while recovering but I’ll know when I open her up to repair it.” The others stood quietly listening to him, not really sure of what to say back. “Miller and Nurse DeBreaux, you’re coming into surgery with me. Gardner, you’re watching from the booth. I don’t know what happened the last time that little girl was on my table but you can bet your asses I’m gonna find out.”

“Yes sir,” they all mumbled together.

“Miller, come with me so we can talk to the parents.” Dr. Harris ordered. “Nurse DeBreaux, let them know to get my OR ready for me, please.”

With that, Dr. Harris and Dr. Miller walked off leaving Moriah and Thomas. She scoffed when he attempted to move closer to her. She put her hand up, pushing him in his chest away from her noticing the slight hiss.

“Get your dumbass away from me, Thomas.”

“We could be in a lot of trouble and you’re still not wanting to stick together. I get you don’t like me but we need to be a united front.” He spat harshly.

Moriah chuckled, now taking in his appearance, she raised her brow. “I see you got a visit from my man and you still tryna put this on me. You gotta be stupid as hell. I had nothing to do with that and you know it.”

“I was assaulted, it’s not funny. You’re in it as much as I am.”

Moriah poked her lip out then laughed. “You got your ass beat for trying me and you’re gonna get your ass beat again when I tell him that you still trying me. The only thing I’m guilty of is not saying something sooner but I didn’t think you were stupid and careless enough to do this.” He growled under his breath then lashed out moving closer to her.

“Stop calling me stupid! I’m not stupid!”

She stared at him unmoved. “Don’t get your ass beat in here, Thomas. Stop yelling at me and back the hell up.”

“No, I’m tired of your ungrateful ass,” he yelled, pointing in her face. “I do all this to try and show you that I’m a better guy than that felon, that I can treat you better and take care of you and this is what I get? Fucking attitude.”

“Nobody asked you for any of that. I asked you to stay away from me,” she spat smacking his finger out of her face, “You better watch your tone. Don’t be mad at me because you fucked up. You better hope her body did that and not you or you’ll be a felon too.”

Thomas brought his hands up as if he wanted to choke her, she kept her eyes on him daring him to do so. Giving up, he let out a loud groan and walked off. Just one more thing to tell Zilla or maybe she would handle this one on her own but whatever the decision is was going to have to wait. She had a job to do.

Thomas paced back and forth watching Nia’s surgery in the overhead booth. He prayed that the rupture was something her body did and that she would make it through without any lingering side effects.

“Uuuh, Dr. Harris, her blood pressure is dropping rapidly.”

Dr. Harris glanced at the nurse that came from then at her vitals. “I’m almost done, just need a few more minutes.”

Moriah took a look at her vitals, the numbers made her heart drop to her stomach. “I don’t think she has a few more minutes, Dr. Harris.”

“She’s a strong girl. She can make it, she can do it. Right, little bit?” He encouraged trying to work as quickly and efficiently as he could. Dr. Miller remained quiet as he helped his mentor. “Just a few more minutes, a few more and she’ll be good as new.”

“Her heart rate is dropping,” the nurse called out in a slight panic.

“I think her body is going into shock,” Moriah added, trying to do what she could.

Dr. Harris continued to work, praying he did what he needed to do before the unthinkable happened. He had to drown out the nurse continuing to rattle off Nia’s numbers so he could focus.

“She’s in distress,” Dr. Miller called out just as she flatlined.

The team worked for eight minutes trying to get her heart started to no avail while Thomas watched helplessly, biting away at his fingernails. The operating room went silent, all eyes on her lifeless little body open on the table. There wasn’t one dry eye in the room but none of the tears fell. Dr. Harris snatched his mask and protective gear off, tossing it to the side cursing under his breath.

“Miller, close her up, please. I gotta,” he paused to clear his throat, “I gotta go talk to her parents.”

Moriah spoke up, going over to him. “I’ll go with you, Dr. Harris.”

He nodded. “That’s fine. But just let me do all the talking.”

Getting to the room Nia was occupying, they stepped in allowing the door to shut behind themselves. Nia’s parents stood from their seats immediately, they held onto each other trying to read the facial expressions.

“The rupture and the leak had been going on far too long and got into her blood as well as some organs, caused a bit of tissue death,” Dr. Harris explained in a soothing voice. “Dr. Miller and I were trying to do as much clean up and repair as we could but her body went into shock before we could complete it. Her heart stopped on the table and we weren’t able to get it back. I’m so sorry.”

Her mother let out a scream that brought tears down their faces and echoed in their heads. Mr. Jones held his wife against him, trying to keep her from hitting the floor. His own tears spilled over.”

“What? What does that mean?” He asked in a froggy voice.

Dr. Harris cleared his throat, thumbing away the tears on his face. “Nia didn’t make it, Mr. Jones. She died during surgery.”

The screams grew louder from Mrs. Jones, Moriah attempted to help Mr. Jones console her only to be pushed away. Dr. Harris put his hands on Moriah's shoulders, turning her towards the door. He offered one more set of condolences before guiding them out of the room.

“Was that your first time?” He asked softly, sighing when she nodded. “Go home. Get your stuff, go home. Do you think you can drive?”

Moriah nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t have to leave. I can stay.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, offering her a small smile. “You’re not okay. Go home, Moriah.”

Not wanting to argue knowing he was right, Moriah went back down to the ER to grab her stuff. Toni called her several times but she was so zoned out she didn't hear her prompting Toni to follow her into the employee lounge. Moriah jumped, feeling the hand on her shoulder.

“It’s just me, It’s just me.” She assured softly, now noticing the tears in her eyes and on her face. “Why the tears? What’s going on? Did Thomas do something?” Moriah shook her head and hugged Toni, laying her head on the older woman’s chest. “Okay not Thomas. It’s Nia? Did her surgery not go good?”

“No,” Moriah croaked. “She died.”

Toni held her tight, rubbing her back and her head. “Oh, babygirl. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Are you going home?” Moriah nodded against her. “Okay, You can’t drive. I’ll take you.”

“You don’t–,” she sniffled. “You don’t have to. I can do it.”

“So you can crash cause you can’t see? No ma’am." She chastised. “They will be okay without me for an hour. I’ll have the boys pick me back up. I got your stuff, come on.”

#aao #zilla fatu #Zilla & Moriah #the bloodline #the samoan dynasty

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kickingitwithkirk · 2 months ago

Text

Paschal Moon 2.0 -1/2

Summary: Jensen finds love the second time around can be bumpier than an armadillo-laden roadway in Texas.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Fiancé!Reader

WC: 2120

Warnings: fair amount of drinking and flangst, relationships are hard, insecurities, cursing, sexy teasing, arguments, family issues, reader still saying shit like me IRL

*Please read Paschal Moon first. This story is a continuation of it.

A/N: It's been a minute since I've been up to writing after Covid kicked my arse, but I had this sequel idea bouncing around and splitting into two parts.

A/N II: I based readers home on this property I’d love to live on in Utley, Tx

A/N III: This is a work of fiction, and no intentional disrespect to the real-life persons contained within.

Square Filled: @jacklesversebingo -“I’ll always take care of you as long as you need me” in bold @j3bingo -Foreplay

*Moldavite

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no Beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

The screen doors creaking made Jensen look up from the sheet music he was working on and saw his fiancée couldn't help but smile. Six months ago, he was so deep in divorce drama that it was providence meeting this nerd-hot astronomy professor who lives in the boonies.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, sitting his guitar on the couch, expecting her to reciprocate, but she just walked through the kitchen door. Okay, that’s not good, Jensen thought. Crossing the main room, he found Y/N’s messenger bag lying on the floor, her jacket carelessly tossed on top, and shoes kicked in opposite directions.

Jensen heard a cabinet door slam shut in the shoebox-sized kitchen as he gathered the items and placed them in their usual spots before entering the kitchen to find Y/N leaning against the old butcher block countertop with a finger crooked in a bottle of Fireball Whiskey's handle, chugging it like an old moonshiner made him remark, “Guess you've had a day.”

Pulling off she bitterly responds: “It’s been crapdamntastic. And how was yours, dear?” This shocks her fiancé. Y/N never called him that, once saying the endearment had a negative connotation from her childhood when she suddenly stomped off. When the hundred-year-old farmhouse’s pipes rattle, it snaps Jensen out of it, and, like the last time Y/N had guzzled that much alcohol too fast, he sees the trail of clothes left in her wake.

Now concerned, he gathered the articles and deposited them in the bath hamper. “Gonna tell me what set you off this time?”

A very unladylike snort came from behind the shower's glass door, “Check your phone.” He retrieved it from the charger in the bedroom and plopped on the large bed, thumbing through multiple missed text stops at the one from his manager marked urgent opens the included link. “Wha…Motherfucker!”

In an exclusive interview, OTH star Danneel Ackles reveals the real reason her ex-husband, Supernatural's Jensen Ackles, deserted his family.

A bath sheet-wrapped Y/N sat down cross-legged, facing Jensen as he continually tugged a hand through his long hair while reading the article full of falsehoods. Jensen suddenly dropped his phone and reached for the bottle copied her earlier chugging, “You know those paparazzi that've been harassing since Inks Lake?”

Jensen acknowledges, remembering the night a few weeks ago when Y/N’s astronomy class took a field trip, secretly arranging to take her camping instead (something he wouldn’t normally do on a dare) and proposed during the celestial event.

“Well, today, they got into the auditorium during my lecture and began shouting those derogatory accusations from that piece when several of my students took it upon themselves to intervene. Long story short, I’m on unpaid leave until the school finishes its inquiry.” His following words this is my fault made Y/N snap. “Oh, the hell you say! You’re absofuckinglutley not at fault here! Danneel acting like a snake in the grass!”

“Danneels pissed because,” but Jensen didn’t finish, instead guzzling on the last of the bottle.

“Because beg-a-bitch badly miscalculated you’d come crawling back and trying to save face! Peaches, I knew being together would have bumps, but this?” She points to his phone, “Face facts, Jensen. Your ex is a Regina George who’s gone too damn far covering her swamp ass!” Jensen sputtered on the cinnamon whiskey burning down the wrong pipe, “Swamp ass?”

“Urban Dictionary, page two, definition four.”

Jensen began to speak, but Y/N placed her fingers against his plump lips. “You’ve always been inclined to let a lotta crap slide to keep the peace because she’s the mother of your children. But Jensen, it’s time to redraw the boundaries of what is acceptable and what’s not ‘cause I don’t want your kids to grow up with resentments like I have towards mine.”

“Ohhh my god! Keep giving it to me just like this Peaches!”

Y/N, sucking on her fingers, moaned in ecstasy, then pulled them out with an obscene pop before reaching for another slab of the ribs Jensen fixed in the outdoor smoker. “Good thing we’re not in public; otherwise, you’d get an obscenity charge.”

“It was one time, and I got off with a warning.” She cheekily remarks, “Besides, my meat man deserves props.” Jensen’s fair skin flushed; his tell when embarrassed but also when aroused makes Y/N grin and tease him by sucking the bones clean.

“Y/N, I wanted to talk about something, and don’t take this the wrong way.” Jensen takes a long swig of his beer before tackling the tricky subject. “Since we’re staying with my family for dad’s birthday, could you tone it down? Your personality can be a bit much.” Y/N got that expression, which he still wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“Calling me extra, that’s rich, considering your profession is full of fake people.” Jensen suppressed his automatic response. “Y/N, it’s just my parents; they’re very conservative.” She dropped her uneaten ribs and sat back.

“I might’ve grown up po-dunk,” her tone signals he’s close to stepping over the line. “But I know how to act around those types; otherwise, I wouldn’t have my position at UT Austin, let alone be headhunted by SpaceX for their new facility coming to Texas!” The flash of surprise crossing Jensen’s face didn’t slow Y/N down. “Would working for Elon Musk be acceptable to the high-fluttering Ackles clan? Or do they consider his personality a bit much?”

Hitting his limit, Jensen’s near-perfect features morphing into I’m done with your shit expression irked her more.

“You know what? We’re a couple of liquorlip loaded guns and better table this conversation till capable of being civil. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” Y/N gets up and grabs the rest of the six-pack. “I’m gonna polish these off in the guest house.”

“This is your house.”

“I know.“ Y/N says, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “Kinda hoping sleeping alone in my bed will clarify whether you had a holy fuck, I’m over forty and single again moment and jumped the gun proposing or really ready for this life with me.” She laid the ring on the table before Jensen, and staggering slightly down the porch steps, disappeared into the moonless night.

Jensen was sitting on the kitchen banquette, watching the ancient oak leaves dance on the breeze through the window, when Y/N padded in barefoot, clad in one of his T-shirts, damp hair hanging loosely down her back, and no makeup.

God, he loved how she rocked the all-natural look, so different from Danneel, who always had to be camera-ready, watches Y/N sleepily fumble around, realizing the kettle was already heated, she added the tea diffuser, steeping it before pouring it into an oversized mug.

She shuffles and plops across from him, leaning on an elbow, waiting for Jensen to speak. “It wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. You are the person I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

“Why?”

That one-word question hung in the air because Jensen knew what Y/N wanted.

It wasn’t the usual platitudes of I love you or can’t live without you. She wanted him to be open, raw, vulnerable, something he always had trouble with, exposing his innermost self.

“Figured after a decade in the industry, I had a grasp of how to tell fake people from real ones. I believed I knew Danneel because we’d been friends. Then she kissed me in Ten Inch Hero and we,” Y/N quirked an eyebrow as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I knew her boyfriend but did all my thinking with the wrong head. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Jensen picked up the mug he’d already drunk and refilled it. “Looking back, I realized there were signs; our normal banter changed at some point. It was stupidly easier to ignore our issues in Vancouver or at cons.” Y/N remains quiet, so Jensen wouldn’t stop opening the hurt box and acknowledging the truth.

“I let Danneel manipulate me, thinking she supported my career by encouraging me to take on more roles. After getting pregnant with JJ, said she wanted to move back to Texas to be closer to family. Then pushing for more kids, ignoring what I wanted, to secure her position. And the other duplicity’s to get financial support for whatever project interested her.”

Jensen didn’t notice Y/N sliding across the seat beside him as he buried his face in his hands, “I've been her lifelong meal ticket. How could I have been so fucking stupid?!”

“Jensen, you aren’t stupid, you were in love. And some marriages work better with a bit of separation. What’s making me hella pissed is Grade A Cunt going around acting like butter wouldn’t melt and blaming you for her cheating!”

Y/N softens her approach, “Those weeks you didn’t call, figured you lost my number cause you’re another Hollyweird dickwad who didn’t wanna get caught with Ms. one-foot outta the trailer park.” Jensen shook his head, “I wouldn’t have taken you bar hopping to the ones I frequent if being seen together was the real problem. Why didn’t I call,” he shook his head again. “I didn’t know how to respond to you crashing through my insecurities like a…”

“Two by four in a tornado?”

“Pretty accurate and disturbing description.”

“Peaches, wanna know what I see when I look at you?” Jensen turned toward her, eyes loaded with apprehension. “A guy who feels too much, so he hides behind this reserved veneer and Da Vinci perfect face, kinda like his alter ego.”

Jensen pushes the mug over and takes her hand, placing the ring back on her finger. “I don’t know how to be without you anymore, so do me a favor. Don’t take this off again, okay?”

“Okay,” she reaches up, cupping his bearded cheek, "Peaches, I’ll always take care of you as long as you need me. So, we done with this emotional colonic?” Jensen laughs and kisses her. “That’s my girl.” He then licked his lips, “How about heading back to bed? We have a few hours before picking up the kids.” Y/N got up taken both mugs to the sink.

“I guess, since my propensity to get laid is about to greatly diminish staying with your parents, the con, then you heading off to finish up The Winchesters afterwards.”

“You have the weirdest technique for enticing a guy, sweetheart.” Jensen’s T-shirt smacks him in the face, and he's about to give her what for is gobsmacked at a completely naked Y/N standing in the doorway striking a seductive pose.

“This technique work for you, Peaches?”

Jensen glances in the SUV's rearview mirror to see which of his kids are acting up. But Clif, without looking, knows what’s happening and loudly asked, “Do the adult children need a timeout?” The noise abruptly stops as Jared and Y/N point at each other and simultaneously say, “He/She started it!”

****

The trip ended up taking a lot longer due to road work slowing traffic on the way to dropping Jared and Clif off at the hotel, and Jensen was relieved to pull into his parents' driveway. Getting out, twisted his torso to loosen up tense back muscles froze when the squeals of mommy rang out, and heard Danneel say she was also staying for the weekend.

Y/N grabs Zeps's backpack before stomping to the vehicle's rear, and when Jensen rounds the SUV, he is greeted with obscenities that would make a sailor blush and luggage hitting concrete. “Sweetheart, I have no idea why Danneel is here...”

“Because I invited her,” Donna Ackles says from not three feet away, and Jensen becomes frosty.

“Mom, we discussed this. You knew I was introducing Y/N to the family this weekend.” Donna comes back with, “Just because you abandoned your marital oath doesn’t change the fact that Danneel's family. And I had assumed your friend would be staying at that hotel, too.”

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions, Mrs. Ackles.” Donna’s eyes widened at Y/N's flippant remark, “You are a very impudent!”

“No, ma’am, inviting your son's lying whore ex to stay in the same house without his knowledge, that’s impudent," Y/N retorts. “I’d bet the farm your intentions are to demonstrate to everyone how dime in a dollar store I seem next to Danneel, hoping Jensen will be embarrassed enough to send me packing. Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t intimidate easily. So,” She stepped into Donna personal space and, with hands on hips says…“Bring it on, Grandma.”

SPNTAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @deans-spinster-witch

#paschal moon 2.0 #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfiction #jacklesversebingo #j3bingo #spn rpf

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shakespeareanwannabe · 11 months ago

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As You Wish, Chapter 4

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (though biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, arguing, cursing, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to early child rearing, crying, Uncle Bob (because he deserves his own warning), Uncle Rooster and Uncle Javy (because they also deserve their own warnings)

Clifton, Texas, 10 ½ years ago

“Dude, what are you doing? Don’t stop!”

“I’m telling you: my vocal cords are going to start to bleed any second! I need to stop!”

“I swear to God, if you stop, I’m going to find an actual rooster and sneak it into your bedroom at the ass crack of dawn!”

Jake rubbed at his forehead with one hand as he took another lap around his living room, bouncing a screaming Charlie in his arms as he went. The last nine months had been…rough, to say the least. Though his grandfather had graciously opened his home up to his grandson, great-granddaughter, and their two friends, it turned out that securing a home was the least of his worries.

Grandpa Wyatt had quickly hired Jake, Javy and Rooster on as farmhands, their physiques and familiarity with rising early making them ideal candidates for the jobs, but Jake wasn’t entirely comfortable with leaving his baby girl with a sitter all day just yet, so he did what chores he could with her strapped to his chest, and spent the rest of the day in the office, doing administrative work with his daughter asleep in her Moses basket behind the desk. Between the physical and mental labour, Jake was ready to hit the sack early almost every night.

However, clocking out for the day didn’t mean that his day was done. Charlie wasn’t a fussy baby, not by a long shot, but she still required an amount of work that Jake hadn’t been expecting. Her first pediatrician visit had revealed that Charlie was slightly behind on her goal weight, which meant Jake had to get up for an additional feeding during the night. But Charlie didn’t like the bottle, and Jake honestly couldn’t blame her. She’d gotten used to breastfeeding from her mother for her first four months of life, and Jake knew firsthand that Buttercup was infinitely better than some plastic bottle.

On top of trying to get her weight up, the Seresin family had also been battling sleep regression, teething, colic, Charlie’s first cold, and delayed milestones. If the doctor was saying that Charlie should be crawling by 8 months, she was doing it at 11 months. The whole thing had Jake lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, worrying about his baby girl, wondering how Buttercup had managed it all on her own, kicking himself for expecting her to manage it alone when he was deployed.

A loud, shrill shriek had him yanking his head away from his daughter as she sobbed unhappily, her tiny fist curling into his flannel shirt.

“C’mon, Charlie girl,” he murmured into her curling blond hair, pressing a small kiss to her head as he paced. “You just had your first birthday a few weeks ago. Can you be a big girl for your daddy and stop crying? Please?” Her green eyes glimmered with tears as she continued to sob in response.

“Rooster, please, man…” Javy groaned, half buried in a pile of Charlie’s toys that he had been shaking and tossing around in an attempt to get her to stop crying.

“My—”

“Rooster, I will buy you a new set of vocal cords,” Jake bargained as Charlie hiccupped before resuming her shrill shrieks. “Please, if not for me, then for Charlie. I need her to stop crying before she makes herself sick.”

Rooster whined before turning back to the piano against the wall. “You guys owe me so bad,” he grumbled before placing his hands on the keys and pressing out a familiar tune. “You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain…”

Jake held his breath as the song came to an end, the air ringing with blessed quiet, punctuated by an angelic baby giggle. With a groan, he sank to his knees, his legs too tired to carry him the five feet needed to get to the couch.

“Thank god.” He hefted Charlie up to sit beside him on the floor, keeping his hand on her back as he sagged against the wall. “So, she clearly doesn’t like sweet potato,” he sighed, watching her crawl over to a sprawled-out Javy and snatch one of her toys from underneath his leg.

“You feed her sweet potato again, you’ll be the one getting the rooster in your bedroom,” Rooster grumbled, closing the piano with a light thud.

“You do that, and you’ll wake her up,” Javy pointed at the little blond baby currently chewing on her toy giraffe’s foot. “And then we’ll all be miserable.”

Jake fixed his oldest friend with a glare. “No shit talking my daughter, dude.”

Charlie’s head popped up at the shift in tone in her father’s voice, her green eyes searching the room until she found him, her face breaking out into a wide gummy smile. She pressed her tiny palm into Javy’s stomach and propelled herself to her feet, wavering unsteadily even as Javy’s hand automatically rose to cushion her back. Jake leaned forward, scrambling away from the wall to sit a few feet directly in front of her.

“Come here, Charlie,” he called, waggling his fingers at her, smiling back as she grinned. “Come on, baby girl, you can do it.”

Time seemed to slow down as Charlie looked towards him before taking a small, shaky step in his direction. Javy propped himself up on his elbows and Rooster turned on the piano bench to watch on bated breath as she took another step, then another.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve got this!”

“Let’s go, Charlie!”

“Atta girl!”

Jake’s heart was in his throat, a feeling better than going Mach 10 racing through his body as his daughter took one last, final step before collapsing into his arms with a giggle. With a loud cheer, he scooped her up and paraded her around the room to the sound of Javy and Rooster’s applause before whisking her into the office and collapsing into his chair.

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she cooed softly at him. He’d missed so much, and his heart panged when he thought about Abby and what he was missing from her life. His hand was halfway to his phone when he stopped himself, pulling it back to hold Charlie tighter against him. He’d tried before and he wouldn’t be putting himself through that again. He missed Abby, of course, but Mav had always told them that they couldn’t afford to be constantly looking backwards, that thinking would be the death of them, so he had to focus on the here and now, on the ranch, on the daughter he did have instead of on the one he missed.

“Da-da…” he looked down at the sound and smiled through the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Yeah, baby girl. Dada is here. And he’s not going anywhere. I promise.”

The Airport, Now

Charlie’s hands trembled around her passport as the camp bus pulled into the drop off lane of the Buffalo Niagara International Airport. She looked up as Abby gripped her wrist with a determined grin.

“Last chance to change our minds,” she whispered as the campers around them started to disembark with loud promises of keeping in touch.

“No,” Charlie whispered, handing the passport out to Abby. “I want to do this. I want to meet mum.”

Abby nodded, taking the outstretched passport and handing Charlie her own. “And I’m desperate to meet dad.”

“Remember, he’s going to meet you at the gate in Waco, so you’re going to have to bring your A Game right away.”

“I’ve got a five-hour flight in order to prepare,” Abby assured. “I’m more worried about you. Uncle Bob is meeting you at the security desk. Are you ready?”

Charlie nodded, a look of steely determination overtaking her face. “I didn’t cut my hair and let you pierce my ears for nothing.”

Charlie thought that Amelia was going to have a heart attack when she walked into the Brig on their last day of their punishment to find them looking identical, their hair the same length and an extra pair of Abby’s earrings studding Charlie’s ears. She’d nearly collapsed onto one of the beds when she heard that they didn’t want to return to their cabin, that they wanted to stay in the Brig. To her credit, she didn’t ask any questions, just shook her head and walked away.

Abby nodded, fiddling with her duffle bag nervously. “Remember, Uncle Bob will be taking you from the airport to meet mum at home. She—”

“Abby, breathe,” Charlie placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders and shook her lightly. “Dad is going to love you. And mum is going to love me. And they’re not going to figure out that we swapped until we tell them a week from tomorrow.”

Abby bit her lip and nodded. “I know. I just…I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I know…” she smiled back. “I’m so excited to meet mum.”

Abby smiled suddenly and tugged her into a hug. “I’m so glad I met you,” she whispered, and Charlie wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her tight.

“Me too.”

Abby pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “Okay. You need to get to the security desk. Remember, Uncle Bob will be waiting for you. Brown hair, tall, glasses.”

“And Dad will be waiting for you at the gate in Waco. He might have Uncle Rooster or Uncle Javy with him. You remember who is who?”

Abby nodded. “Rooster’s got the moustache. Javy has tattoos.”

“Exactly.”

The girls looked up as an announcement came over the loudspeaker, calling an Abigail Floyd to the security desk.

Charlie bit her lip anxiously. “I guess this is it.”

Abby grabbed her up in a hug again. “You’re going to be great. Call me whenever you need, and I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon!”

Charlie took a deep breath and headed off in the direction of the security desk. Coming around the corner, she saw him. A tall man in a pilot’s uniform, with brown hair and glasses, his blue eyes scanning over the crowd until he spotted her, his eyes studying her for a moment before breaking into a smile.

Charlie took a moment to compose herself, whispering under her breath in the British accent she had been practicing for weeks, “You can do this. You have to do this.”

“U-Uncle Bob!” she finally called out, her accent ringing true as she rushed towards him, tossing her duffle bag to the floor before launching herself into his arms.

“Whoa! Easy, kiddo!” Bob chuckled, gathering her into his arms. “I missed you too!”

“S-sorry,” she murmured into his neck, her arms tightening around his neck. “I just missed you so much.”

“Six weeks was a long time, huh?”

Charlie pulled back, sniffling slightly. “Yeah. It…it felt like a lifetime.”

Bob crouched in front of her, his brown eyes tracing over her features like an X-ray machine, and Charlie gulped. There was no way he could know she wasn’t Abby, right? They were identical, save for a few freckles here and there, and a scar that Charlie had on her knee. But nobody could remember the exact pattern of someone’s freckles, and her knees were covered, so there’s no way he knew.

Finally, he smiled. “It felt like a lifetime for me too, sweetheart.” He reeled her back in, hugging her tightly before releasing her and drawing himself up to his full height. “Now, come on. We’ve got to get you checked in and ready to go for our flight back home.”

Charlie woke with a start as she felt the plane touch down onto the runway, a smooth landing executed by a skilled pilot. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Even though Bob had been with Dagger Squad, like her dad and uncles, he was a WSO, not a pilot, so she was surprised to hear that he was flying passenger aircrafts after retiring, but Abby had told her all about how Bob had gone for his pilot’s license after retiring from the Navy and how Nat had helped him study and prepare.

Charlie gulped nervously. She had had the whole transatlantic flight to soothe her nerves over meeting her mother for the first time, to convince herself that her father wouldn’t be too disappointed in her for running away, to assure herself that her and Abby’s plan would work. She had a sister. And a mother. And an uncle and an aunt that she had never met before. The risk of her father’s disappointment was worth it in order to meet them.

As Abby had instructed her, she waited patiently in her seat until all the other passengers had cleared out before taking the duffle that was being pulled out of the overhead compartment by one of the flight attendants and heading towards the front of the plane, where her uncle was waiting.

“You ready to go see your mom?”

Charlie felt her cheeks flush. “Yes!”

Bob chuckled, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s go see your mom.” Bob shouldered the duffle and led her off the plane, through customs, and down to a town car that was waiting for them. “From the last text she sent, your mom is working in her office at home, and Nat is at work,” Bob informed her quietly.

Right. Auntie Nat worked as a kickboxing instructor now since she was given a medical discharge from the Navy. And mom’s office was at the top of the stairs, two doors down on the right. Both Abby and Charlie had drawn maps of their houses, ensuring to include even the slightest detail so that there would be no surprises. Charlie had studied the map multiple times a day, until she felt like she could walk it in her sleep, even though she’d never been there before. Abby had also printed her a map of the neighbourhood when they were given their computer privileges back, as well as a map of the London tube system, though she had assured her that she would never have to take the tube alone if she didn’t want to.

“Abby?”

She hummed as her eyes darted here and there, taking in the old buildings and the people. They looked the same as the people in Texas, just less plaid and cowboy hats, but they seemed so different to her. She’d only been to a big city a few times, preferring to stick to her small ranching town, so everyone seemed so busy, rushing down the street, their cellphones stuck to their ears.

“Abigail?”

Everything was so new, so shiny. She gaped as an actual, real life red double decker bus drove by their town car, and her stomach was knotted over the fact that they were driving on the wrong side of the road.

“Abigail Floyd, for someone who hugged me so hard you almost cracked my rib, you sure seem intent on ignoring me right now.”

Charlie blinked. Abigail Floyd. That was her. Well, not her, but who she was supposed to be, at least for right now.

“Oh. Sorry, Uncle Bob,” she yanked her British accent into place. “I was just…reminiscing. You know, about camp…and about how homesick I was.”

Bob smiled softly at her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “I’m glad you had such a good time. I know it’s a struggle to be away from home for so long, but I knew you’d have fun and make friends.”

“I did,” she replied quickly. “I met some great friends, and I downloaded WhatsApp onto my phone so I could keep in contact with them. Is that alright?”

“I’m sure your mom will be fine with that. That’s why she got you the phone, after all. To keep in touch with family and friends who are in the States,” Bob’s voice twinged with…something. Perhaps a hint of regret or maybe even anger.

“Good. Because I really like this one girl,” she grinned. “We became best friends.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” he smiled back. “You never know where you’ll find your best friend.”

“Like you and Auntie Nat, right? You met at Top Gun.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

Charlie grinned. “Now the two of you are basically brother and sister.”

Bob chuckled. “Yeah, we basically are. Maybe you and this girl will be like sisters too,” he replied, shooting her a playful look out of the corner of his eye.

She gave him a tight-lipped grin in return. Uncle Bob had always been strangely intuitive, she knew that much from Abby’s stories, but he was hitting a lot of nails on their heads right now and it was spooking her like crazy. So much so, that she hadn’t even registered that the car had stopped moving.

“We’re here!” she cried, scrambling to unbuckle her seatbelt and get out of the car, her uncle’s echoing behind her as she launched herself out of the open door and up the stairs towards the bright red front door.

“The door’s open, sweetheart, so you can go on in,” Bob called, grabbing her duffle and his suitcase from the trunk of the car.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the door into the flat that Abby shared with their mother, uncle, and aunt.

The interior was exactly as Abby had described. Homey and cozy, but still posh. The living room to the left of the door held brown leather couches, lots of bookcases, and a few plants hanging from the curtain rod. The window seat was where Abby and their mother read, together and separately. Charlie knew that the kitchen was just on the other side of the living room, where her family ate dinner together whenever Uncle Bob wasn’t flying.

But Charlie wasn’t interested in any of that, no matter how comfy it looked after a long international flight. No, her sights were set on the staircase in front of her, which she climbed slowly, her legs trembling with each step. She could picture Abby’s map so clearly in her mind: the first door on the right was the bathroom, the second was mom’s office, and the third was Bob’s bedroom. On the left came mom’s bedroom, then Abby’s, then Auntie Nat’s.

Charlie stepped onto the landing of the staircase, her eyes locked on the door of the second room on the right, which was cracked open just a touch. Her heart pounding in her chest, she slowly approached and, with a ringing in her ears, she quietly pressed the door open and walked inside.

There she was.

Charlie dashed at the tears that were welling in her eyes at the sight of her mother. Her mother. She wasn’t some imaginary figure anymore. She was solid flesh and bone. For years to come, Charlie would be able to picture the way her eyes scanned over the screen in front of her, the way her hair was piled up on top of her head, the way her slim fingers danced across the laptop keys, the way her buttercup tattoo peeked out from the neckline of her shirt. They weren’t images conjured up by her lonely mind anymore. They were real. She was real.

“M-Mum?” she whispered.

Her mother almost jumped out of her chair. “Oh my…Abby?”

Charlie swallowed hard as she nodded. “I’m home.”

“Oh, honey, I missed you so much!” Buttercup scooted her wheely chair across the floor and pulled her into a hug, and Charlie felt herself melt as she hugged her mother back just as tightly.

“I missed you too, mum,” she whispered.

“Six weeks is just way too long, love. I don’t care how much Auntie Nat raved about this camp, six weeks of you being across the ocean is just way too much for me.”

“I agree,” Charlie nodded into her shoulder. “I don’t want to be away from you for that long ever again.” She sniffled as she felt her mother press a kiss into her hair before pulling away.

“You won’t be, love. I promise.” Buttercup’s thumbs gently stroked away the tears from her daughter’s cheeks before tugging her into a hug again. “I meant to be finished with this chapter before you got home so we could spend the rest of the day together.”

“That’s alright. Is it coming along?”

Abby had filled her in on how their mother was a relatively successful author, Charlie even recognizing a few of her book titles from her bookshelf at home. Their mother’s writing was part of why Abby felt that their parents would fall in love again when they had to meet to switch them back. Buttercup’s current, more adult story was about a military man meeting and falling in love with an artistic woman, falling apart, and coming back together to live a happily ever after, and it had Abby convinced that their mother still had feelings for their father.

“I’m struggling, baby,” Buttercup sighed. “These two clearly love each other, but I can’t seem to figure out how to get them back together.” Buttercup looked up and smiled at her. “But they don’t matter right now,” she shut her laptop with a click. “What do you say you and I go out for lunch? You can fill me in on everything that happened at camp. I want to know everything. Six weeks is just way too long and I just know that you have stories to share.”

Charlie’s smile was so wide, it hurt her cheeks. “I’d love that, mum.”

Buttercup pulled her into another hug and kissed her hair. “Go get changed and I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.” Buttercup smiled as she pulled away from her. “I missed you so much, baby. I love you.”

Charlie’s heart sang in her chest. She knew, of course, that her mom thought she was talking to Abby, but it didn’t matter to her. Her mom loved her, it didn’t matter who she was directing those words to. No one would be able to take them away from her. They would echo in her mind for an eternity. She’d heard those words from her father a million times, and they meant the world to her, but from her mother? They were sacred, special. They felt like a gift she hadn’t know she was going to receive.

“I love you too, mum,” she whispered, hugging her tight before racing towards the bedroom Abby had marked out for her on the map.

She finally had a mother, and she wasn’t going to miss a second.

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#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #glen powell #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #as you wish fic

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cheynovak · 4 months ago

Text

Texas sky – part 4

Summary: Y/N, a former cast member of Supernatural, had left Texas for LA several years ago, citing career reasons but also escaping unresolved personal issues. During a reunion party in Austin, she reconnects with Jensen Ackles, who is still married to Danneel but also struggling with his own difficulties. He confronts Y/N about her sudden departure and their past, hoping things might turn out differently this time.

Warnings: Friend to lovers, old love rediscovering, marriage problems, cheating, alcohol, hurt, anger, fluff, ...

English is not my first language

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

Jensen was already awake when I stirred, his soft green eyes watching me with a tenderness that made my heart ache. His hand hoovering over my cheek and then my lips, I felt it, even though he didn't touch me.

Neither of us dared to address it, not wanting to shatter the fragile peace that lingered between us. Yesterday we spent all day in bed, just holding each other, fingers drawing circles on each other's skin. Lips occasionally finding the other for a passionate moment. Until we fell asleep.

He smiled softly as I blinked away the remnants of sleep, and his whispered "good morning" was laced with the unspoken truth of what we both knew was coming.

Instead, he asked if he could take a shower, and I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. I knew he was stalling, that he was trying to hold on to these final moments just as desperately as I was. And I didn’t care. I wanted him here with me, for as long as I could have him, even if it was only for a little while longer. As I watched him disappear into the bathroom, I knew that once the water stopped and the steam cleared, reality would come rushing back in.

I slipped out of bed and stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching Jensen as the water cascaded over his shoulders. His posture was tense, his head bowed under the stream, and I could see the weight of his thoughts in the way his muscles strained. The sight tugged at something deep inside me, an ache I couldn’t ignore. Before I knew it, I had moved closer, stepping into the shower behind him, the warm water instantly soaking my white shirt and black silk panties.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek against his broad, damp shoulder. For a moment, we just stood there, letting the water wash over us, as if it could cleanse away the pain that clung so stubbornly between us.

“I should be happy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “And in a way, I am. But it hurts, Jensen. It hurts that you’re going back.”

He didn’t turn around, but his hand came up to cover mine where it rested on his chest. “I want to be with you,” he said, his voice raw, stripped of all pretense. “But I can’t leave my kids. If it was just Danneel, I’d divorce her right now, but... I’m scared she’d take them from me.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, the stark honesty in them both a comfort and a curse. I knew he meant every word, that his love for his children was the one thing that held him back. And I couldn’t blame him for that. How could I?

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I pressed my face harder against his shoulder, holding him tighter, as if I could somehow fuse our bodies together and make the world outside disappear.

“I know,” I murmured, my voice breaking. “I know you can’t leave them. And I would never ask you to.”

As the water cooled around us, we remained locked in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. When Jensen finally turned to face me, his hands moved gently over my body, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through me. He smiled softly, his gaze drifting down to the wet shirt clinging to my skin, his thumb brushing over my hardened nipple. The sensation was electric, a reminder of the connection we had, one that went beyond words.

"I’ll find a way," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His lips found mine in a tender, lingering kiss that held all the promises he couldn’t speak out loud. "Just give me a little more time," he begged softly, his forehead resting against mine.

I nodded, my mind barely processing the action. How could I say no when his words were filled with such desperation? I wanted to believe him, to trust that he would find a way for us to be together. But deep down, I knew the reality we faced. Still, I nodded, because in that moment, I couldn’t bear to do anything else.

His hands continued their slow exploration of my body, as if he was memorizing every curve, every line, for when he’d have to let go. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, our bodies pressed together under the cooling water. We kissed again, a kiss that was both a promise and a goodbye, neither of us willing to let go just yet.

But eventually, the water turned cold, and the reality of the world outside this shower intruded once more. Jensen pulled back slightly, his green eyes searching mine, filled with a mixture of longing, regret, and something that looked painfully like hope.

"Just a little more time," he whispered again, as if trying to convince himself as much as me. I nodded again, this time more slowly, feeling the weight of what I was agreeing to.

Months had slipped by in a blur of stolen moments and secret rendezvous, each one leaving me more torn than the last. Jensen would sneak into my house whenever he could, his presence both a comfort and a source of deepening guilt. Every time he kissed me, the world felt right, but when he left, the wrongness of it all came crashing down around me.

I tried to push the thoughts aside, to bury them beneath the heat of our passion, but they always resurfaced, especially when he would pull away just when I needed him the most. Each time I’d ask him when things would change, when we could stop hiding, and each time, he’d ask for more time, whispering promises I was beginning to doubt he could keep.

But not today.

Today, I was done with the excuses, done with the half-truths and empty reassurances. I reminded myself I promised myself not to be a mistress, never be the homewrecker. Yet here I was breaking my own self worth, my own promise.

As soon as he stepped through the door, I didn’t greet him with the usual warmth. Instead, I stood firm, my arms crossed over my chest, the weight of everything we’d become hanging heavy between us.

“Jensen, this has to stop,” I said, my voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil inside me.

He looked at me, confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean? I thought we—"

“I’m tired of the lies,” I cut him off, my tone sharper than I intended. “You keep telling me you need more time, but nothing is changing. We’re still hiding, still sneaking around like we’re ashamed of what we have. What’s the point if all we’re ever going to be is a secret?”

Jensen’s face fell, the hopeful light in his eyes dimming. He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“Do you even want me, Jensen? Or is this just some fantasy for you? Because it feels like you’re perfectly content keeping me hidden away, only coming to me when it’s convenient for you.” My voice was rising, the frustration and hurt I’d been holding back for weeks finally spilling over.

I didn't mean it.

Jensen looked like a beaten dog, his shoulders slumping as the words hit him. He reached out for me, but I stepped back, needing the distance to keep from breaking down completely.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice trembling. “Don’t touch me unless you can tell me the truth. Unless you can tell me what you really want.”

“I want you,” he whispered, but the words felt hollow, as if even he didn’t believe them anymore.

“Then why does it feel like I’m nothing more than a dirty little secret to you?” The pain in my chest was nearly unbearable, but I refused to let the tears fall.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m just... I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” I demanded, my hands shaking. “Scared of being with me? Or scared of leaving her?”

He looked down at the floor, unable to meet my gaze. “Both,” he admitted after a long pause, the word barely more than a whisper.

The admission hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence louder than any argument we could have had.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jensen,” I finally said, my voice breaking. “I can’t keep being your secret, your escape. I deserve more than that. We deserve more than that.

“I know,” he said, his voice full of regret. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” I whispered, feeling the tears finally spill over. “You need to decide what you really want, Jensen. And if it’s not me, then...”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of him choosing her, of losing him for good, was too much to bear.

Jensen took a step towards me, his hand reaching out as if to comfort me "Y/N. please..." , but I shook my head, stepping back again.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I need to be alone. And I think you need some time to think."

For a moment, he hesitated, his hand hovering in the air between us, but then he let it fall to his side. He nodded, his face a picture of devastation, before he turned and walked out the door, leaving me standing there, heartbroken and unsure if I’d ever see him again.

The words I’d just said to Jensen echoed endlessly in my mind, haunting me with their truth: I can’t keep being your escape. I deserve more than that. We deserve more than that. The weight of those words felt too familiar, as if history was repeating itself.

I couldn’t help but remember the night before his wedding. He had invited me to his bachelor party, a gesture that had surprised me given the circumstances. But I hadn’t shown up at the club, too caught up in my own emotions after a disastrous date. I’d told myself it was better to stay away, to give him space on the eve of his new life. But that plan had shattered when I heard the sound of car horns outside my door.

Jensen’s car had pulled up, the windows down, and I could hear Jared and the others calling my name, urging me to join them. I was about to turn back inside, to ignore the noise, when Jensen himself got out of the car. He was tipsy, his smile easy and charming, but when he saw me, his expression shifted. He noticed something was wrong, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“Hey, what’s going on? You never came to the pub?” he asked, his voice softer than I expected. "Horrible date, norhing to worry." I answered, "Go, have fun tonight."

I saw the shock in his eyes before he looked at Jared and told him to head back to the club, promising that we’d be there in a minute.

Once the cars drove away, we stood there for a moment, the night air heavy with the things neither of us wanted to say. Finally, I walked inside, and he followed me, my heart pounding in my chest.

We sat on the tiny couch in my living room, the silence between us growing heavier by the second. He didn’t press me for details about what had happened on my date, and I didn’t offer any. Instead, we just sat there, close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s presence but far enough to keep the unsaid words from spilling over.

“I didn’t know you were dating?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. “Just, you know, trying to.” He didn’t push further, but I could feel his gaze on me, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, “You know you’re my best friend, right? I mean, I know things are changing, but that’s not going to.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but they only made the ache in my chest worse. I nodded, forcing a smile, but inside, I felt like I was falling apart.

“Jensen, you’re getting married tomorrow,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “Things are already changing, whether we want them to or not.” And it's not the change I wished for. I thought.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment, it felt like he could see right through all the walls I had built up. His gaze was so intense, so filled with a mix of emotions, that I couldn’t hide anything from him even if I tried. He reached out and took my hand, his grip warm and reassuring, but instead of comforting me, it only made me feel more unsteady, like I was on the edge of something I wasn’t ready to face.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “What’s really going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. All the years of unspoken words, of buried feelings, were bubbling up to the surface, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to hold them back anymore.

“I’m just... I’m tired, Jensen,” I finally whispered, my voice cracking with the strain of holding back tears. “I’m tired of chasing love. Of always being the one who waits, who hopes, who never gets what she really wants. I want to feel real love... the kind that doesn’t make you question everything, the kind that just is.”

I looked at him. "I want my happy ending." with you.

Before I even realized what was happening, Jensen moved closer, his hand tightening around mine, as if he heard my thougts. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, soft and urgent, filled with a longing that matched the ache in my heart. I was stunned, frozen in place, unable to respond as my mind raced to catch up with what was happening.

The kiss was unexpected, a sudden surge of emotion that neither of us seemed prepared for. His lips moved against mine, trying to coax a response, but I was too shocked, too overwhelmed to react. My heart was pounding in my chest, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his eyes searching mine for any sign of what I was feeling. I could see the fear in his gaze, the fear that he had crossed a line, that he had pushed too far.

“Y/N, I—” he started, his voice trembling.

But I didn’t let him finish. I reached up, my fingers brushing against his lips, silencing him. I wasn’t ready to speak, to acknowledge what had just happened. I was still trying to process it, to understand what it meant.

Jensen’s eyes clouded with uncertainty, his usual confidence wavering as he stared back at me. My thumb brushed over his lips, and I could feel the slight tremble beneath my touch. There was something in his gaze that sent a jolt of nervous energy through me, something that made my heart race and my mind whirl with a thousand possibilities.

“What’s wrong, J?” I asked softly, trying to ground myself, to keep from being swept away by the intensity of the moment.

His hand reached up, covering mine, holding it against his face like he was afraid to let go. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of marrying the wrong person, of chasing after something that isn’t real, that doesn’t make me feel… whole.”

The way he looked at me, so raw and open, made my stomach twist. There was a desperation in his eyes, a silent plea for something I wasn’t sure what he meant.

I could feel my nerves spiking, the intensity of his gaze too much to bear. I needed to move, to do something to break the tension before it suffocated us both. I stood up abruptly, needing the distance, needing a drink or anything to distract myself from the way he was looking at me. But before I could take more than a step, Jensen followed, closing the space between us in an instant.

His body pressed against mine, trapping me between him and the counter. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the undeniable evidence of what he wanted pressing into me. His hands were on my waist, fingers digging into my skin as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting me go. His breath was warm against my ear, and I felt every word as he whispered them.

“Please… don’t go,” he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. “I need you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this, the only one who understands.”

My heart was pounding so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts. The temptation to give in, to let myself be swept away by him, was almost overwhelming. But even as my body responded to his touch, my mind screamed for me to stop.

That’s when the words spilled out, the ones I didn't meant. “I can’t be your escape, Jensen,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my resolve. “I deserve more than that, more than one night. Let's not ruin this friendship for one night of pleasure.”

Please tell me your want me, not her. Tell me and I'll give you everything. My mind screamed.

He froze against me, the reality of my words sinking in like a cold shock to his system. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression filled with a mix of hurt and confusion.

“You’re right... I-I'm sorry.” he started, but I cut him off, needing to say it all before I lost the courage.

“You’re about to marry someone, Jensen. Someone who’s supposed to be your everything. But you’re here, with me, looking for… I don’t even know what. And I... I want you happy"

When I thought of that night tears welled up in my eyes. I still refused to let him fall. I couldn’t afford to lose him.

I had let him go so many time, And it hurts every single time.

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist:

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28

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@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy @stefansring @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan

#jensen ackles #fanfic #jensen fucking ackles #x reader #fluff #dean winchester #soldier boy #jensenedit #jensen x reader #female reader #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort

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ranjith11 · 1 year ago

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How long will my divorce take in Texas | Law Office of Chris Schmiedeke, PC

The length of time it takes to finalize a divorce in Texas can vary based on several factors, including the complexity of the case, the level of cooperation between the parties involved, and the court's schedule. In general, the process can take anywhere from a few months to over a year.

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canadianfangirl-95 · 7 months ago

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Frankie Morales- Sugar Daddy edition

Summary: You are a teacher at a private school in Texas and your colleagues warn you about one of your new parents, Mr. Morales. When you meet him, you’re blown away by the rich, suave, and extremely handsome man. He soon begins pursuing you and you must choose between keeping your job or giving in to the infatuation you feel for this man as he showers you with gifts and admiration.

About: This is the beginning of the sugar daddies AU Triple Frontier collection where each guy will get a f x reader pov story. The events of Triple Frontier are changed; No Tom (we hate Tom in this house), the helicopter never crashes so they make it to the ocean without incident, each taking home $25 million dollars. But these guys are smart so naturally they’ve basically doubled their money by now. Takes place between 7-10 years after the events of the heist.

Frankie is divorced, no reason why explained. No mention of Frankies substance abuse.

Warnings: 18 + minors DNI, age difference, reader is in her 20s, Frankie is in late 40s, smut, oral f receiving (it’s Frankie duh), alcohol, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, basically buckle up kids it's gonna be a bumpy ride

Word Count: 12k +

Long Horn Academy, a private school for the oil tycoons and fortune five hundred owners of Texas to send their kids. It was the dream school for all teachers in the state. Good money, benefits, pension, everything you could ask for. Except of course for the elitist parents and children that treat you more like a servant than an educator. However, it was still better than the public school system that’s for sure. You waited years after teaching college on a supply teacher list in order to finally get your own classroom.

September came around and you were beaming with excitement going over everything you needed for your first year as a grade three teacher at this incredible school. You had gotten to know many of the other teachers at the school during your supply years, so before class started you mulled about the teachers’ lounge with your coffee, talking about everything the year has to bring. Oh, how little you truly knew about how life changing this school year would be.

“I just can’t believe I have my own class and room now! It’s been so exhausting dragging my book bag to every room in the building because I didn’t have a desk of my own.” You beamed to your colleagues, Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell. Mrs. Young was a seasoned vet in the teaching field, at around mid-fifties, she always sported the most comfortable clothing but still so chic. Ms. Campbell was around your age, she had bright blue hair that caused quite a stir in the school until the principal deemed it a freedom of expression issue and shut the parents down. She wore their displeasure with her as a badge of honor.

Ms. Campbell smiled at you, “Hey girl you deserve it. I had your class a few years ago and they were actually really well behaved, save for this one snot nose kid Randall.” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of him throwing paint at her.

You laughed along, you too had shared a few run in with kids like that.

Mrs. Young interjected, “Oh, you forgot to tell her the best part.” she said to Ms. Campbell, gently swatting her arm and raising her eyebrows, hoping her friend would get the hint of what she was implying.

Ms. Campbells eyes widened, and she grinned at Mrs. Young, you looked between them, trying desperately to figure out this big news.

“You’re right, she’s gonna have Liliana Morales in her class.” Ms. Young stated with excitement.

You looked confused, “Who’s Liliana Morales?” you asked.

“Oh no sweetie, not who’s Liliana Morales, who’s Daddy Morales is the question you should be asking.” She hummed into her coffee, clearly pleased with the situation at hand.

Taken aback you replied, “Okay, who’s Daddy Morales?”

The two women nodded their heads to each other before Mrs. Young responded, “Honey, he’s a rich divorced dad.”

Not at all surprised you nodded, “Okay, that’s like seventy-five percent of the dads at this school, what makes him so special?”

She grinned, “Oh, you’ll see.”

You returned to your classroom ready for the day. Everything had been prepared meticulously in order to make a good first impression with the insanely high standards these parents had. Your room was decorated tastefully with a mix of colour and neutral tones, and you had prepared a tray of lemon bars for the parents to enjoy as they mulled around the room with their children. The parents were allowed to stay for the first period of the first day to get to know the teachers’ style and ask questions, as well as provide any educational information the teacher might need for the children.

Slowly, parents and students started arriving. The majority of them greeted you politely, a few blonde mothers in their Pilates outfits shook your hand with limp wrists, clearly not approving of your attire. They all wore Chanel and Louis Vuitton, labels far out of your budget. There are some teachers at the school that dressed the part, but they were not working with your new hire salary. So, Old Navy was where you got your work clothes.

Smiling politely, you grew more nervous as the crowd in the room became louder. There were so many strange faces you didn’t know how you would get through this first period. You stood near your desk, smoothing out your skirt when a tap on your elbow shifted your attention.

A tall man stood before you, with styled brown hair and a beard with a thick mustache. He wore a light tan blazer, a brown button down and dark jeans. His eyes were bright and brown like a baby cow. You gazed hopelessly into them before registering that he was trying to talk to you.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked, embarrassed.

He smiled, “I’m Francisco Morales, Lilianas father.” He stated, reaching out his hand.

Morales? You thought, oh shit. This must be who the other teachers were referring to. He was so handsome your mouth went dry. You did your best to answer him, “Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Smith.” You took his hand and shook it, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers touched. You pulled it back and folded your arms, wondering if the feeling was all in your head or if he felt it too.

He smiled, “It’s mighty nice to meet you too. Liliana is very excited for this year.”

You nodded, “That’s great, I’ve heard good things about you- her, sorry I’ve heard good things about her.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and begged for someone to interrupt.

Unluckily for you, he stayed right at your side without wavering. “How long have you been teaching?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaning on his left leg.

“I’ve been a substitute here for five years and this is my first full time role.” You answered, a little more confidently this time you may add.

Mr. Morales nodded politely, “Well I think that’s great, always good to get some fresh young minds in here to teach us old people a thing or two.” he said, adjusting his sleeve length under his blazer and giving you a kind wink.

You nodded, “I’m glad you’re happy, that makes at least one of you.” You said quietly, more to yourself than anyone else, and looked around the room at the parents swiftly critiquing the lesson plan you had posted.

He looked around at the crowd of people and then at you, noticing how uncomfortable you were. “Hey, don’t give any mind to these people. They’re not happy with anything, trust me.” He leaned in and rested his hand on your elbow. You looked at his kind and sympathetic eyes and immediately swooned. He was so handsome it made you sick, and of course he had to be nice as well. What the hell have you gotten yourself into here. No, no, you thought. It’s just a little crush, you’re sure it will pass.

You smiled kindly at his assuring comment, and he retreated to the back of the classroom, following where his daughter had ended up. You slowly moved behind the desk at the front of the classroom and tapped your fingers on it, now was a better time than ever to get this show on the road.

Clapping your hands together, you alerted the attention of the class that you would be starting. You were met with bounds of questions and critiques from the parents, you swallowed your breath so many times with your nerves you thought you might pass out. Save for Mr. Morales, he stood in the middle of the back of the room, leaning against the large window overlooking the soccer fields with a calm resolve on his face. You let your gaze linger on him far too many times, but you couldn’t help it. Each time you did, his kind eyes soaked your heart with contentment and made your knees weak.

Finally, after almost every parent had cited their concerns, you felt yourself slightly dampened. You took a deep breath looking at the clock. “So, we only have another minute left before the period is over and we break for snack so does, anybody, have any other questions or comments?” Your breath broke during the sentence, hoping not to be met with any more judgement or you might cry.

Just as a particularly snarky mother was about to raise her hand, Mr. Morales quickly popped himself off the window and took a few steps forward. “I would just like to say, I am so excited to see what you have to bring to this class this year.” He spoke confidently but kindly, and seemingly only to you. His eyes burned into yours and made your heart flutter. “I cannot think of a better teacher, to take care of our kids.” He finished.

You offered him a thankful grin and nod, “Thank you, Mr. Morales. I’m really happy to be here.” You held your hands together in front of you. Trying not to break your resolve.

The sound of the bell filled the room and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You nodded politely as the parents said their goodbyes and the children rose to get their snacks.

Mr. Morales suddenly appeared at your side, “Thank you for this, you did a great job.” he said, before backing away to the door. Not before sneakily looking you up and down.

Your eyes widened, and your heart skipped a beat. This is going to be trouble.

As the months moved along Mr. Morales’ flirting got more and more obvious. Bringing you coffee and treats in the morning, lingering after pickup to chat with you, that stupid gorgeous smile leaving you desperate for more of his attention. You learned that he and his wife divorced when Liliana was a baby and he shared custody but as the school was on the way to work, he picked her up and dropped her off even if she was his ex’s house. He told you that he owns a construction company and purchased it fairly recently. He was charming and sweet, but not so sweet as you caught him multiple times outright checking you out. You grew more and more embarrassed by your wardrobe, looking at all the amazing clothes the other teachers were wearing. You knew he was older than you, like way older than you, but you didn’t really care. Especially since it was school policy teachers couldn’t date parents, so there was no harm in flirting with a man who was clearly flirting with you.

One December morning you were in the lunchroom with Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell, discussing your upcoming Christmas break plans.

Ms. Campbell teased you, “So, what’s it like having Daddy Morales in your class?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s fine, he’s actually very nice.”

“Oh, I know, he’s a Southern charmer darling.”

Sipping from your coffee cup, you hid your grin as you thought of how Mr. Morales made you feel and how quickly you were developing feelings for him.

The last of the kids were leaving your classroom as the end of the day drew near. Mr. Morales crept into the room and gestured to Liliana that he was going to be speaking to you before they left. You stood still near your desk, casually folding the flyers for the Christmas concert on your desk as you awaited his approach.

He moved beside you and turned with his back to the rest of the room. “Hey darlin, how was your day?” he asked with an energetic smile.

You smiled; his informal greetings may have gone a little far past professionalism, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Good, thank you. How was yours?”

“Oh fine, construction isn’t exactly exciting but it’s a good group of guys, so, you know.” He looked slightly nervous, and you grew cautious of the interaction, he always had such a confident and suave demeanor about him. “I was actually wondering if you would be free on Friday night?” he asked, gauging your response.

Stunned, you stuttered, “Oh, um, I’m sorry Mr. Morales, but teachers aren’t actually allowed to,”

“I understand don’t worry.” He interjected, “I noticed Liliana was having a hard time with English and was wondering if you would be able to do some additional tutoring? I’d pay you, it’s my own fault really. We only speak Spanish at home so.” He looked bashful and your cheeks grew red with embarrassment that you thought for even a second, he would be asking you out.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed. Um, yes, I can definitely help you that.” You nodded softly, hoping you didn’t just ruin everything.

He smiled, “That’s great thank you. Do you mind coming round my place at say 5?”

Nodding you replied, “Yes that works, I’ll get your address from her file.”

“Great, thank you again hermosa.” He said as he backed up and gestured for Liliana to follow him.

You simultaneously couldn’t wait until Friday and couldn’t even fathom the idea of being alone with this man you had so much desire for.

Friday evening came and you plugged his address into your phone. You slid into your mid 2000s Ford Focus and headed out. It was a cash car, and your first purchase once you saved enough money would definitely be to upgrade, but that was a long way away. It still felt awful parking it with its rusted fenders beside the Lincolns and Range Rovers that took up the majority of the parking lot at the school.

The neighborhoods you were driving through suddenly shifted more and more into the luxury market. You couldn’t believe the sizes of some of these houses, how could anybody have this much stuff you thought. You finally pulled into the laneway your phone indicated and were met with a long driveway to a stunning stone house with a balcony on the second level facing the road. Your mouth gapped at the size of the estate and the sight of the hoard of vintage and luxury vehicles along the front of the laneway.

Parking your car over to the side so that he may not see it as you leave, you shrugged your cardigan back on your shoulder that it had fallen off and strutted with your tote bag of learning materials to the front door. You looked around casually, there’s no bell. How could there be no bell? Just a large circular knocker in the middle of the door. You bit your lip and swiftly knocked the handle against the dark brown wood door. It made a louder thud than you thought it would, but you still felt anxious that he wouldn’t have heard anything.

When you were just about to grab the knocker again the door suddenly swings open. Leaving you motionless with your hand raised between the two of you. He was in a black button down with sleeves rolled up and khaki pants. You quickly ripped your hand back to your side, “Hi, Mr. Morales, how are you?”

He looked at you up and down briefly, you were wearing black boots with light wash jeans, a snuggly fit blue tank top and a patterned cardigan over top. “Hey sweetheart, doin’ just fine long time no see huh?”

Blushing, you realized you had literally seen him less than two hours ago. He moved in the door so you could slip by him. When you entered you were greeted with an enormous stone staircase cascading up into the second level with exposed railing. There was a crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room, illuminating you with a stunning glow. You couldn’t help but turn where you stood, shifting your gaze continuously to the next beautiful part of the room you caught with your eyes.

Finally turning around in a half circle, our gaze was met with Mr. Morales, whose eyes were dug into you, enjoying your childlike wonder.

“Sorry,” you said bashfully. “I’ve just never been in a house like this.”

He held his hands together and took a step towards you, "That's okay. Honestly up until a few years ago I hadn't seen anything like this either. It's a bit much for me but Liliana told me she wanted to live in a castle so I couldn't resist spoiling her." He winked at you and gave a sheepish smile.

You giggled, "I get that, she's a really wonderful little girl. I've loved having her in my class."

"Thank you, and for what it's worth we have very much enjoyed having you as her teacher. You might be our favourite." He touched his hand to his chest and spoke so earnestly, it made your gaze drop embarrassingly to his mouth as he talked.

Thankfully before you had to pry another sentence from your desperately dry mouth, Liliana came bounding into the room with a skip and threw her arms around you.

Mr. Morales reached out and took her arm, "Whoa girl, let's give Ms. Smith some space. Why don't you show her to the study, and I'll check on dinner. I hope you're okay with staying for dinner. I thought it was the least I could do for stealing you on a Friday evening. I'm sure your boyfriend would've preferred to spend time with you since we hog you all day all week." He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You met his gaze, "I would love to stay for dinner, thank you. And no boyfriend so I'm all yours tonight."

He smiled, and nodded at Liliana when she took your hand to leave the room. You briefly looked back over your shoulder at Mr. Morales before you turned the corner and found he was still standing there with his hands on his hips, watching as you left.

A knock came to the door of the study and Mr. Morales poked his head in. "Hey ladies, it's dinner time. Liliana, go wash up. Ms. Smith I'll show you to the dining room."

Liliana left to go to the washroom, and you collected your things. Mr. Morales waited patiently waiting in the doorway. You heaved your heavy tote back on your shoulder and started towards him.

“Here, let me take that.” He said, pulling the strap easily off your shoulder. You nodded, thanking him and followed him through the house. Each room is more amazing than the other. He stepped aside to let you walk first into a stunning dining room. The walls were bright white with a high ceiling and pillars reaching up in each corner. The curtains had a white and blue pattern covering what you assume must be an incredible view. Sat in the middle of the room was a stunning ten-foot polished wood table with matching high back chairs wrapped around it. Your mouth gapped once again at the sight.

He gestured around you to a seat on the right side of the head of the table. There were three settings done with beautiful silver wear and plating. Just as you sat, Liliana came back in and sat herself across from you on the left side.

The table had trays of traditional Chilean food, luckily, Latin food happened to be your favourite.

“I hope you don’t mind the food; it can be a bit spicy.” he said, taking his seat beside you and offering a bottle of red wine.

You lifted your glass to hand to him, “No not at all. I actually love spice.” You said as he took the glass from you, pouring the wine in. Your fingers grazed against each other as he handed it back to you and you nearly dropped it.

“Alright Liliana, why don’t you say grace for us?” He said, after pouring himself his drink.

She happily clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. You followed suit with Mr. Morales.

“God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food, Amen.” she said excitedly.

“Well said sweetheart, alright everybody dig in.”

The three of you ate, and laughed and drank. Mr. Morales and Liliana recounting dozens of stories, and you telling a few embarrassing vacation stories from your childhood that made Liliana laugh, and Mr. Morales too for that matter. You all had finished your food long ago when Mr. Morales looked at his watch.

“Oh, geeze baby girl. Look at the time, I’d say you should start getting ready for bed.” He said to his daughter, pointing at his watch.

She slumped in her chair, “Oh daddy, please. It’s Friday.” She put on her best puppy dog eyes that made you giggle.

He rolled his eyes at the obvious tactic, “Okay, you have to go to bed, but you can put a movie on to fall asleep to. Alright?”

She beamed, “Deal. Thank you for helping me Ms. Smith.” She said as she rose from her seat.

“Of course, sweetie, it was my pleasure.” You replied, catching Mr. Morales grinning at the interaction.

Liliana left the room and you stood to grab your plate, to which Mr. Morales quickly swatted your hands away. “Oh no no. Don’t even think about it, you’re a guest you will not be cleaning up this mess.”

“But you made this beautiful dinner, it’s the least I can do.” You protested.

He continued his objection, “Please hermosa, it’s really fine. Why don’t you just go out to the living room and I’ll bring a coffee. How do you want it?” He stood close, closer than you thought you would be comfortable with.

Stuttering you replied, “Just milk and sugar please.” And quickly retreated in the direction he had gestured.

Of course, another stunning room full of beautiful paintings and photos on the wall of Mr. Morales and Liliana.

You rounded an emerald green sofa and sat down, admiring the wood coffee table in front of you with a bouquet of roses on it.

Lost in thought you daydreamed about living here, how stunning it would be to wake up every day and stroll down that staircase. You can’t even imagine how glorious his bed must be if the damn couch is this comfortable.

Mr. Morales caught your attention and placed the coffees on the table. He sat beside you, almost right beside you. You felt your heart skip a beat but reached for the coffee to give your shaking hands something to do.

“These flowers are beautiful, roses are my favourite.” You pointed casually to the flowers.

He looked at you with his cup in his hand. “Thanks, I like them too. They really brighten up a room. So, do you like teaching at Long Horn?”

Nodding, “Yeah, it’s really great. It can be a bit overwhelming, but I do like it.”

His eyebrows knotted together, and an adorable crease split his forehead. “Overwhelming how?”

“Well, it’s just that, most of the teachers there and pretty much all of the parents are in a certain class that I’m not really in so it can be a bit, I don’t know. A bit embarrassing showing up in my car and my clothes and my shoes and well, just not really dressing the part of a teacher at such a prestigious school.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, slightly embarrassed by your honesty.

He scoffed, “Do you think their clothes make them a better teacher than you?”

Shaking your head you replied, “No of course not, it’s more of a status thing, I guess. It’s probably pretty juvenile to feel this way.”

Mr. Morales took a sip from his cup, never taking his eyes off you, “Well, would you feel more confident if you dressed the way they do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I guess so, yeah. I think I would feel like I fit in more and maybe would get treated better by some of the parents. But I guess this will have to do for now.” You waved away your thoughts, “I’m saving for a new car right now so I shouldn’t worry about all that.”

He hummed, looking away briefly, deep in thought.

You asked him about his work, he got a bit vague but still answered your questions intently. The conversation flowed nicely, and you enjoyed talking to him. You almost forgot how much older he was because he still had such a youthful humor about himself. He talked about his friends Santiago, Will and Benny. It felt so comfortable, but also bizarre as you were sitting having this lovely conversation in a multi-million-dollar home. You simultaneously felt out of place and right where you needed to be.

Your coffees had been finished and you looked at your phone, “I should probably get going Mr. Morales. Thank you for the dinner and coffee.” You rose from your seat.

He stood with you, “Of course, least I could do for Lilianas favourite teacher. Thank you again for tutoring her.”

You both walked slowly to the front entrance, the electricity between you could power the whole damn house. You picked up the tote bag he had rested against the wall beside the door and turned to him. “Thanks again, have a great rest of your night.”

“You as well.” he replied, rubbing his hands on his jeans. He suddenly realized his place and reached for the door, pulling it open for you. You nodded and left through it. The walk to your car felt odd, the temperature had dropped slightly so you hugged yourself a bit. Fumbling with your keys, you finally get the door open and toss the tote into the passenger seat. Looking in the rear-view mirror as you drove down the long laneway, you notice the front door is still open and his broad silhouette is stood there watching as you leave.

Sunday morning rolled around, and you had no plans, other than to totally veg out in your pjs and watch movies all day. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you had your trusty bunny slippers on. Your apartment was small, but plenty for you. Although you have to admit, it felt a lot smaller when you returned from Mr. Morales’ house on Friday. You were settled in to continue your marathon of the Alien movies when a knock came at the door. You sat up puzzled, you just placed the order for your Popeyes chicken lunch and there’s no way it’s already here. Shrugging your sweater up from where it had fallen off your shoulder you sauntered over to the door and opened it.

You were met with a woman, with brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, a knee length pencil skirt, black heels and a stunning blue silk blouse.

“Ms. Smith?” she asked.

Stunned you replied, “Uh- yes?”

“Great, I have a delivery for you.” She said as she suddenly pulled a luggage cart into view that was covered in clothing bags, shoe boxes and small packages.

You huffed in confusion as she pushed past you with the cart.

“Um- I didn’t order anything?” You followed her as she made herself comfortable in your living room.

“Size?” she asked.

Even more confused, you replied, “What?”

“Shoes, shoe size.” She said, gesturing to the boxes on the bottom of the cart.

You looked at her with more annoyance than confusion now but gave her your size.

She pulled about the boxes, putting three of them onto your kitchen table.

“I’m sorry can I ask what this is all about because I am just totally confused.” You waved your hands in the air as you conceded the situation.

Tossing her ponytail behind her shoulder as she ran her hands through the hangers. “These are from Mr. Morales.”

Your mouth gapped, what does she mean these are from Mr. Morales? Did he give you all these? How is this even happening right now?

Before you could speak again, she interjected, “Okay, I am just going to get your measurements, please stand here with your arms out.”

You were at a loss for words, so instead you did as you were told and allowed her to measure your body for sizing. She thanked you and started mulling about the hangers.

You walked towards the table cautiously, looking at the shoe boxes, they all had the same name on them, Christian Louboutin. Your hand slowly opened one of them and pushed the tissue paper aside, revealing a stunning pair of black, red bottom heels. Mouthwatering you ran your finger along the side of them and couldn’t believe your eyes.

The woman pulled a series of clothing bags off the bar and hung them over the edge of your thrift store couch.

“Oh, one more thing.” She said, reaching into a package on the front of the cart. She pulled out a long thin cardboard box and opened it as you wrang your hands together in nervousness. She slid a brown box the same dimensions as the cardboard with gold detailing on it and handed it to you. Your eyes widened as you recognized the iconic Louis Vuitton logo adorned all over it.

“Have a good day.” She stated as she pushed the rolling cart out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

You waved your hand causally before returning your attention to the box. Sheepishly, you popped it open, and your eyes went wide at the five gold and diamond matching bracelet set. It shone in the light and your breath all but stopped completely. You looked around at the shoe boxes and bags of what you can only assume are more designer clothes. Your head spun so hard you had to brace yourself on the kitchen table. This could not be happening; this could not be real. Why on earth would this man give you all this insanely expensive stuff? You put the jewelry box down and straightened yourself up, promising yourself you wouldn’t touch anything until you spoke to Mr. Morales.

The clock ticked on the wall of your classroom Monday morning, you grew more and more anxious to see Mr. Morales. Tapping your fingers on the desk you stared at the door. Finally, Liliana came bouncing in with Mr. Morales on her heels. You swiftly strutted over to him and stood with your stance firm.

He caught the look on your face, and he grew nervous, “Hi, Ms. Smith. How was your weekend?” He glanced at your outfit; eyebrows furrowed at the fact that you were wearing the same navy dress with a stitch missing around the collar that you were wearing last week.

You pulled your lips tight at how casual he was being, “Fine, thank you. Do you mind if I speak to you in the hall?” You pointed out the door, to which he nodded and followed closely behind you.

There weren’t many people in the hall yet as he was always one of the earliest drop-offs, but you lowered your voice, nonetheless. “I had a delivery yesterday.” You stated.

He nodded, “Great, did you like everything?” He did his best to smile, considering your face did not match his.

“Mr. Morales,” You pinched your nose, “I cannot accept a bribe and you shouldn’t feel like you need to I mean Liliana did great on Friday night I think she’s really getting it and,”

He cut you off, “Whoa now, that wasn’t a bribe.” He chuckled.

You looked to him with confusion, “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then, what was it?” you asked, leaning against the lockers beside you and crossing your arms.

He looked down at you, “An investment.”

Your eyebrows popped up, “An investment?” You questioned.

“Yes, you told me you would feel more confident if you dressed the part of a teacher at this school. I want the absolute best for my daughter so I thought if I invested in you then you would be able to be the best teacher you could be.” He tucked his hands in his leather jacket. That damn jacket you thought. It fit him so well and looked so good with his distressed jeans. He must not be going into the office today you thought.

Taking a deep breath through your nose you replied, “I really don’t think I can accept all that Mr. Morales. All that stuff costs more than like, three of my car.” You laughed to yourself at the situation you had found yourself in.

He took a step in, looking around for any other people in the hallway. “Let yourself be taken care of, for once in your life hermosa.” Your mouth fell open at the intense smell of his musky cologne you could now smell with him so close to you. Before you could retaliate, he turned and strutted down the hall.

You watched as he left, still too stunned to speak.

The rest of the week you strutted around the school in your new clothes. The snobby moms that typically gave you a side eye gave you a confident smile and complimented your lesson plan for the next week. You felt amazing gliding down the hallway in your red bottom heels, the gold bracelets dangling from your wrists.

Ms. Campbell nearly choked on her coffee one morning as you glided in wearing a form fitting purple work dress and black heeled ankle boots with black tights and tight blazer snug on your shoulders.

“Geeze what’s with this get up?” she asked, looking you up and down.

Shrugging you replied, “Oh just got some new clothes. I’ve been saving for a while and thought I would treat myself since I’m not travelling for Christmas this year.” A blatant lie you thought, but it was for the best. No one could know everything was from Mr. Morales. There’s no way the principal would accept his “investment” story and you’d be done for.

“So, is your class ready for the Christmas concert?” You asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

She peered at you suspiciously, “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will be good. Will Daddy Morales be gracing us with his presence?”

You nodded casually, “I believe so.”

Another teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, came in to grab water from the fridge. She was nice enough, but you didn’t cross paths with her much. “What are we talking about ladies?” She smiled kindly.

Ms. Campbell leaned back in her chair to look at Mrs. Rodriguez, “Daddy Morales.”

You scoffed at your friend and gave her a wide look.

Mrs. Rodriguez hummed, “Mmm, Daddy Morales. He’s with your class now, isn’t he?” she asked, pointing at you.

Nodding you replied, “Yes, I have his daughter Liliana this year.”

“Lucky girl.” She commented before leaving the room.

Embarrassment grew in your chest as you worried anybody had picked up on your crush.

Friday evening came, the last day before Christmas break and the day of the concert. You had spent every waking minute preparing for it and were eager to show off your class. Everything was going off without a hitch as you stood at the side watching your class. Liliana had a little solo which she absolutely killed. You nervously peered out into the crowd to gauge the parents’ reactions. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and smiling along with the music. Your gaze suddenly caught Mr. Morales sitting on the edge of an aisle near the front, looking more handsome than ever. His hair and beard are still styled perfectly, wearing a navy knit sweater and khakis. Your eyebrows perked up as you noticed a bulge in his pants with the way he was sitting, widespread so he could rest his left leg in the aisle. All of a sudden, the music stopped, and your class was taking their bow. You shook your head straight and clapped along with the crowd.

The show finally came to a close and you stood in the hallway, saying your goodbyes to the students and parents. A hand tapped your elbow and you turned to meet eyes with Mr. Morales. He looked you up and down, seemingly pleased in the red silk blouse, black pencil skirt and heels you had put together from the selection he gave you.

“Hey darlin, that was a great show.” he said nervously.

You grinned at him, “Thank you, Liliana really stole the show. Where is she?” You asked as you scanned his sides to see his daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s left with my mom; she promised her she’d take her out for ice cream after the show. No boys allowed is what I was greeted with when I asked to join.” He laughed, waving his hands slightly with his story. You giggled along.

He suddenly looked even more nervous than when you had challenged him about the gifts, “It’s kind of noisy over here do you mind if we go for a quick walk?” Pointing in the direction of the classrooms.

Unsure, but entranced, you followed. You couldn’t even feel your feet moving, they just seemed to know where to go.

You walked slowly together, not speaking until you had finally rounded the corner.

Desperate to break the silence that was held together by the utter sexual tension you were trying your best to ignore, you asked, “Is everything okay, Mr. Morales?”

He rubbed his chin with his palm and tried to look at you, “Yes, sweetheart everything, everything’s fine. I just, wanted to tell you that I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and uh, listening to Liliana talk about you every night.”

Your chest grew red, “That’s great, I really like talking to you too Mr. Morales.”

He waved his hand causally, “Please, you don’t need to call me Mr. Morales. That makes me feel old.” He laughed nervously.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. Francisco, right?” You asked, still trying to keep up with him as he seemed to have a destination in mind considering the pace he had set.

“Uh- yeah, yeah that’s fine.” He smiled and you nodded.

He finally came to a stop in front of your classroom, you were so entranced you hadn’t noticed this is where he was leading you. He shifted towards the door and turned the handle. You were somewhat confused as your door was locked when you left that day. Hesitantly, you walked past him into your room.

Your mouth fell open as you looked at your desk, it had a large bouquet of roses on it and sitting in front of the roses was a shiny white cushion Chanel purse.

You stopped in your tracks, “Mr. – uh, Francisco what the hell is all this?”

He closed the door behind him and took a few steps over to you, “Just a Christmas gift.”

You spun in your spot, “A Christmas gift? Really you are just too much.” You protested, part of you completely flattered and a part of you concerned.

He stepped closer still, until your bodies were just inches away from each other. Your breath was labored, and you couldn’t see straight. It wasn’t until he pointed up at the ceiling that you finally were able to focus your eyes.

A mistletoe. There was a mistletoe hanging perfectly from the ceiling above you. Your gaze dropped back to his face. He was looking intently at you, scanning every piece of you. His eyes dropped to your mouth, and you felt yourself lean in. He quickly closed the gap and met your lips with his.

His hands found themselves on your waist as you cautiously rested yours on his arms. The kiss was deep but soft, it held emotions from months and months ago and released a pain you didn’t know you were carrying.

You finally pulled yourself back, remembering the consequences of your actions. “I really, shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered to him.

He looked down at you softly, “Why not? I know you’ve been feeling the way I’ve been feeling all this time. Why not let yourself embrace it?”

Your chest flushed and you released yourself from his grip, “Because, I would lose my job if anyone found out about, about- all of this. The gifts, the kiss. I am not supposed to be doing anything like this with a parent.” You sounded flustered now, your head spinning for all new reasons.

“What if you didn’t need your job?” He asked, trying to follow you in your steps.

You looked at him puzzled, “What do you mean what if I didn’t need my job? Of course I need my job, and I can’t find anything that will pay more in the state.”

His voice turned deeper and his eyes darkened, “What if you didn’t need your job because I would take care of you.”

Taken aback, you can barely stutter out, “What?”

He steps further into you, “What if, we gave this a real shot, and I took care of you. Because I can. Because I want to. You don’t need to move in with me or anything, but I would pay for your apartment until we got to that point. I like you hermosa. I care about you, and I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I know I’m older than you, but I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life, spoiling you and giving you the life you deserve.”

All you could hear once he stopped speaking was your heartbeat, it was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was asking you to quit your job to date him and let him shower you with gifts and love. A beautiful could be stepdaughter that you’ve grown to care so much for. It all seemed too good to be true.

He held your shoulders in his big, strong hands. “One day. Give me one day to show you what your life could be like with me. And if you hate me at the end of it, you’ll never hear a damn word out of me. But just give me one day. Please.”

Something broke inside you, your resolve was gone. You wanted nothing more than to throw your shaking body into his arms and kiss him feverishly. Right now, though, all you could muster was a quiet okay.

He nodded, “Liliana is at her moms on Christmas day, and I know you aren’t going to see any family. So please, spend the day with me and I promise I’ll make it one you’ll never forget.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You said, trying to be confident.

He beamed, reaching around you to grab the flowers and bag as you shuffled slowly towards the door.

You looked back at him, “How did you do all this anyway?” pointing up at the mistletoe.

He chuckled, “Had to give the custodian a hundred bucks.” He said with a wink.

Christmas day.

This used to be your favourite holiday growing up. You were always surrounded by family and food. The gifts were sparce, due to your dad being on disability from an injury and your mom doing her best to keep everything together. But that never bothered you, until you would see your friends at school, and they would talk about the heaps of toys they received from Santa. Still, you had a wonderful family and that filled your heart as much as it could. You normally go visit your parents for Christmas back home in Florida, but you had saved for the last 6 years to get them a cruise and Christmas was the only time your mom could get off work. You were all prepared to spend the day in your pjs, watching movies and making cookies. Your plans were abruptly changed though, by the man who had all but begged you to go on a luxurious date with him. You figured your circumstances can’t be so bad.

You looked around your apartment, thinking about what this day could bring. If all goes well, you’d be quitting your job after the semester is done in a month and letting yourself fall into a serious relationship. All your time will be spent figuring out if you love this man. Could you? Do you? It was all so confusing, but thankfully he shouldn’t be around for a few more hours so now you just needed to finish your bowl of mac and cheese you reheated for lunch and figure out what to wear.

The bowl had just hit the sink when a knock came at your door. You looked at the clock on the microwave puzzled, once again why was someone here, you thought. Last time you had an unexpected guest, she came with a hoard of gifts, so you weren’t totally nervous this time around.

Your door swung open, and you gasped when you saw Francisco on the other side. He was fully dressed in black dress shoes, black pants with a matching blazer and a deep green button down. You swiftly looked down at yourself; a mismatched pajama set and your damn slippers.

“Hi.” You sputtered out.

He smiled, “Hey hermosa,” he stepped in and kissed your cheek before walking into your apartment.

Closing the door behind you, you ask “Isn’t our date not until later?”

He nodded, “Yes, but you still needed to get ready for the date, right?”

“Right.” You shrugged, looking down at your clothes.

“Right, so let’s go. Grab your new purse and your phone. You shouldn’t need anything else. I’m just going to use your washroom really quick, and we’ll go.” he nodded towards the other side of your apartment.

He disappeared into the hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom, and you looked around stunned. Okay, you thought, let’s just go with the flow. You’re sure he has a plan for all this. You kicked off your slippers and slid on some boots, stuffing your phone into your purse.

He returned, adjusting his jacket, and smiles at you. “You look beautiful by the way.” He gives you a gentle kiss before grabbing the door.

You scoff at his probable joke, but follow him, nonetheless.

When you get downstairs, you’re met with a vintage Ford Mustang sitting in front of your apartment building. He stepped forward and opened the door for you before taking your hand and helping you ease down into the car.

He joined you inside and fired up the engine, pulling onto the not so busy street considering it was Christmas.

“Where are we going anyway? I’m hardly dressed for whatever occasion you have planned.”

He glances over at you with a knowing smirk, “You know I can’t tell you that sweetheart. Don’t want to ruin the surprises. And actually, you look perfect for where we are going.”

The car finally came to a halt in front of a luxury salon that you’ve only dreamed of going to.

You gasped, “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He winks as he gets out of the car and rounds the front of it to open your door. He then leads you hand in hand to the entrance.

“I don’t think they’re open it’s Christmas.” You said nervously.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I made special arrangements.”

He flung the unlocked door open and gestured to you inside. You were met with a beautiful salon that had antique mirrors and beautiful light pink chairs. A woman with black hair and all black outfit was sitting at the desk and greeted you with a kind smile.

“Merry Christmas Maria, how are you? You know I owe you for this one, right?” Francisco asked, leaning on the desk.

She smiled up to him, “I’m good, and yes yes you do. Ms. if you’d like to follow me, we’ll get started.”

Your eyes widen at Francisco, but he nods to assure you it’s okay.

A few minutes later you emerge from the back in a silk pink robe and the softest slippers you’ve ever felt in your life. He was waiting patiently in one of the salon chairs. You then spent the next few hours getting your nails painted, your makeup and hair done. All the while, sipping champagne, eating chocolate covered strawberries and chatting with Francisco. He didn’t leave your side even once. Constantly complimenting you and grabbing your hand to pepper kisses on it whenever Maria wasn’t looking. He made you laugh so hard your chest hurt and you got a brief scolding from her to keep still, which earned you a juvenile look from Francisco.

“Alright, I think you’re ready to get dressed. What do you think Mr. Morales?” she looked to him after finishing up your hair.

“She’s breathtaking.” he said under his breath but still loud enough for you both to hear.

You blushed and rose from the chair to follow Maria to a back area where there was a curtained changing room with a large mirror in it. The curtains swung closed behind you before you could notice the hangers on the wall. There was a long black evening dress, a pair of black heels and a woven trench coat. You stepped forward to admire the dress, it was strapless and had a slit down the left front of it. It was simple and elegant. You looked down at the bench where the shoes were and noticed a black box. Popping the top off it, your eyes widened when you were met with a strapless lace black bra and panties set. Your eyebrows popped up, realizing your date might not be as wholesome as you thought he was. He was a man after all. You held the bra in your hand loosely, and it created an ache in your core. Your mind drifted off to the thought of wearing this in front of him and he rubbing his hands all over you. Worshipping your body as you know he’d do. You finally snapped yourself out of it and got changed.

You took last look of yourself in the mirror and stuffed your clothes and shoes into the bag Maria had left for you. Grabbing the coat off the hanger you tip toed out of the curtains. When you emerged from the back Francisco was standing in the room still, he turned swiftly when he heard the sound of your heels on the hardwood floors.

He clapped his hand over his heart as you approached, and you smiled. “Be still my beating heart, you look amazing.” He grabbed your hand and spun you around before snapping you close to his chest.

You beamed up at him and offered a soft kiss, which he graciously accepted. “Where to now Romeo?”

“Tsk tsk, always trying to ruin the surprises. Also, you have one more thing for this outfit.”

You looked at him puzzled as he opened his suit jacket and pulled out the Louis Vuitton bracelet box from the inside pocket. Your eyes widened with his sneakiness. “Where did you get that?”

“Swiped it from your dresser when I said I was in the bathroom.” He chuckled, before helping you clasp each bracelet on your wrists.

You both said your thanks to Maria and returned to his car.

The city swiftly disappeared, and you became very much aware of your whereabouts; you were headed to the airport.

Your stunned face must’ve stayed on you the entire time. Peppering Francisco with continuous, what’s and how’s. Until finally you found yourself walking on the tarmac towards a private helicopter, owned by him of course.

He got you up and settled into the passenger seat when you suddenly looked confused. “Wait where are you gonna sit?”

He winked at you, “Don’t worry I’m right here with you sweetheart.” As he climbed into the pilot’s seat. You watched in awe as he got his headset on and got the helicopter ready for flight. He signaled to the tower that he was ready to go and steadily pulled off the ground. You grabbed his thigh with your hand as you tried to calm your nerves.

The two of you toured around the city, the sun was slowly setting as you made your way into the countryside. He pointed out a golf course in the distance and you noticed a helicopter pad near the greens. He set the helicopter down effortlessly and got you both set to get out. He hopped out the door and reached up to take you by the waist to carry you down to the ground.

You walked hand in hand towards the building where a man was waiting, he gestured you both to follow inside. Once inside, you were taken to a stunning ballroom. It had high ceilings with chandeliers situated in multiple spots. Every surface was adorned with Christmas lights and tall ten-foot decorated trees stood in each corner of the room. There was a single table with roses by the far wall with a fireplace. Simple orchestrated music sounded through the speakers and Fransisco pulled your chair out for you as you sat down.

“I honestly can’t believe you’ve done all this; it feels like a fairytale.” You gushed as he poured you a glass of wine.

He smiled at you, “Well hermosa, I just wanted to take today to treat you how you have always deserved to be treated. I didn’t come from money and I know you didn’t either. But one thing I’ve learned is that if you can spoil someone, you should. If you can use physical things to show someone how much you care about them, then you can. It doesn’t need to be this materialistic thing, and I knew from the beginning that, that none of this would matter if you didn’t have feelings for me too.”

You nodded intently with him, “I do, I really do have feelings for you Francisco. I- I don’t know what it is but I’m just so attracted to you in every way I know that I’m supposed to be.”

Smiles radiating off of each other, a waiter approached with a silver plate with a matching covering on top.

“For the lady.” He said, pulling back the top, to reveal a Tiffany jewelry box.

You gasped and looked at Francisco who was beaming at you. The waiter took the box and handed it to Francisco before leaving.

“I know, I know. I’m too much, you’re gonna say.” You smiled at him, holding your hands to your chest. “But I think too much is better than not enough so, I got you one more thing tonight to truly complete the beautiful look you you’ve got going on right now.” He popped the box open and pulled out a gold and diamond necklace.

Your face dropped as he rose from his seat. You held your hair up as he reached around your body, clicking it in place and letting it fall comfortably on your chest. You set your hair down and ran your hands along the jewelry.

“Thank you, this really is amazing. I wish I could do something to repay all your generosity.”

“Your smile is payment enough hermosa.”

Your heart warmed and you reached your hand across the table to take his. He pulled it up and pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles.

The waiter returned with the beautiful Christmas dinner. Fit with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, and you ate and laughed together. Everything was delicious you and thought about how this could be your life every day. You could sip wine and eat amazing food with a deliriously sweet man and his beautiful daughter.

Your plates have been cleared and you took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

You huffed, “I just, I like you I do. I really do. But I feel like I need to know more about what the future would hold if we were to take this step.”

He nodded, “Do you have any questions in mind?”

Leaning on the table you tapped your fingers to your chin, running through all the possibilities the next 30 years could hold should you end up together. “Do you want any more kids?” You ask.

“No, I think I’m past that. Do you?” he asked, slightly nervous.

You shook your head, “No, I like kids, I mean I have to for my job. But I don’t really need any of my own. But I love Liliana, don’t think I wouldn’t be so so happy to be a part of her life.”

He smiled and nodded.

“When do you think you are going to retire?” You asked, sipping from your wine.

“Well, I can technically do that anytime, but probably in less than 10 years. I do enjoy getting out and having a routine still.” He stretched into his seat as he could tell this could take a while.

You bounced questions back and forth to one another for a while, and continued to be surprised by how well your lives could actually line up with one another. There was just one thing that you couldn’t get off your mind.

“Okay, last question because I think it’s gonna be a doozy.” He nodded, leaning his elbows on the table so he could listen more intently to you. “You never told me what you did before you had this company, or really any stories from before that or before Liliana was born. Why is that?” Your voice grew quieter with each word, fearful of what he may say.

His head dipped slightly, and he rubbed his chin with his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his response.

“So, I grew up here in Texas, didn’t have a lot of money so the only real career prospects I had was in the military. I enlisted right out of high school. Spent the next, 15 years I guess as a pilot for special forces. Got out, circumstances changed, had to get back in and then the money I received as payment for a final job allowed me to buy that company. It allowed me to set myself, and my daughter, up for a good life. I didn’t do the best things to get that money, but it has been worth it, so far at least.” His eyes looked sad, he was suddenly nothing like the suave and confident man that had strutted into your classroom all those months ago.

He looked at you like you may completely disappear on him; he reached his hand out, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Please.”

You looked at his hand, taking in everything he just told you. He was such a kind man and had treated you so well in every way possible. He clearly had some broken pieces of himself still inside, but who’s to say you’re not the one to mend those pieces.

Just as he was about to give up hope and pull his hand back, you leapt from your seat and rushed to his side. He quickly followed your lead and stood up to you. Your eyes met his with an intense heat, you looked down at his lips and lunged yourself forward into him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you flung yours around his neck. His tongue pecked at your lips, and you gladly opened them to allow yourselves to deepen and lick your tongues against each other’s. He pulled his mouth free and rested his forehead against yours.

“Are we doin’ this sweetheart?” he asks, breathing deeply.

You swallowed hard, and then nodded your head against his.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen grew on his face and he latched himself back onto you with a passionate moan.

He took you back to his place and you ended up in the living room, still dressed to the nines with champagne and chocolate cake. He had undone the top buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his chest. You drank your champagne and stared at his skin, trying desperately not to reach out and touch it. At this point, you’d had not just a little bit, but a lot a bit of champagne and were really feeling it in your core. Even as he sat before you, explaining what he does on an average day in the office or on a site, you nodded as if you were paying attention, but not a single word was entering your ears as you noticed again how broad his shoulders were.

“So, my head contractor Mike, he,”

“You look comfortable.” You blurted out, taking him by surprise. He looked at you confused, you pointed lazily to his chest, to which he looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.” He said with a wink, noticing how your eyes stayed still on his exposed skin. “Are you comfortable or would you like me to find you something to wear?”

You popped your eyebrows up at his question, “Yeah, fuck. That would be great I’d love to get out of this thing.” You downed the rest of your champagne and stood up from the couch.

He followed your lead and grabbed your hand. You went up behind him on the staircase in the entry way to the bedrooms.

The hallway had doors on doors on doors. You followed him to the one at the very end of the hallway and gasped as he swung it open. The bed was definitely a California King and had a fluffy cream comforter on it with a few pillows scattered on top. The walls had paintings of planes and helicopters, a little out of place from the rest of the house, but more his style. You nearly tripped when you ran to the right side of the room and poked your head into the huge closet. It was only half full of his suits and dress shirts, some jeans stacked neatly on top of the dresser.

“Holy shit, I wanna live in this closet.” You exclaimed.

He laughed, “Well, there’s plenty of room still in there for ya.”

You looked back at him, remembering why you wanted to come up here in the first place. It was not to figure out how to organize your shoes in the closet that’s for sure.

Swaying your hips you returned to him standing near the bed. “Can you get my zipper for me?”

He swallowed deeply, looking you up and down. “I think I can manage.”

With a shit eating grin on your face, you turned and moved your hair off your back, collecting it in your hands.

You felt his warm hands touch the top of your back and you shivered at the feeling. Then, your zipper could be felt slowly making its way down until it hit the bottom, just above your ass.

You turned coyly, keeping the dress up by holding it to your breasts. He stood looking down at you, eyes darkening, waiting. You slowly pulled your hands free from the material and helped it shrug down your body, finally stepping out of it.

He took a step back, admiring your body in the lingerie that had been set out for you. “Damn it hermosa, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You snickered, reaching out, you grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him back to you, peeling the jacket off his shoulders. He threw it to the side and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. You popped your eyebrows up and leaned in for a kiss. You made quick work unbuttoning his shirt as your tongue swept around his mouth. Undoing the last button, he pulled it off his shoulder and past his wrists. You ran your hands down his bare chest and started nipping at his jaw. He smiled into you, caressing your body with his hands before swiftly pulling you up into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning down to plant a kiss on his open mouth. He turned towards the bed and threw you down onto it. You landed with a laugh and winked at him, making a come here signal with your finger.

He smirked and climbed onto the bed on top of you, slotting one of his thighs between your legs. Desperately lapping each other up you could’ve kissed for hours, but he had better plans for you.

Kissing your neck slowly he moved down your body to your breasts, pulling at the fabric of the bra and allowing one of them to fall out. He grunted lowly before latching on. Biting and swirling your nipple in his mouth, you moaned loudly, and he slid a hand under your back, pulling you up so your aching core was rubbing against his thigh. Your nipple popped out of his mouth, and he looked at you with hungry eyes. You leaned forward to slip your hands under your back and unclasp the bra, throwing it who knows where.

His mouth continued down until it reached the top of your panties grabbing them ferociously with his teeth. His hands took them swiftly and yanked the material down your legs. He stood above you, basking in your bare body and dripping core.

“Fuck me.” Francisco hummed to himself.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You replied, giving him a smirk.

Biting his lip he looked down at your pussy, and fell to his stomach to line his mouth up with your entrance. You let out a desperate moan as he slipped his tongue between your folds and licked up into your clit. His technique was incredible, completely undoing you in minutes. Sucking and licking with precision. You were so wet that sounds coming off his tongue were intoxicating.

“Just like that baby, fuck- yes don’t stop, Franc-,” you moaned, hands reaching back to grab the pillow behind you.

With a few more swipes from his tongue and a nudge at your clit from his nose you fell undone under him. Your moan shocked even you and his face never wavered as he let you ride it out on his tongue.

You finally felt your head stop spinning, thinking he would be done when you felt him double down. Your back arched as his two fingers slid inside your dripping pussy. He curled his one finger inside, flicking it out onto your clit while he kissed your thigh. You grabbed the chocolate curls on his head and whined. You didn’t think it could get any better when all of sudden both of hands came to your core and with a finger hooked in you on either side, pulled your sore pussy open to allow his tongue entrance. You felt his warm tongue in parts of you that you never knew one could reach and instantly cried out as your next orgasm not only flowed through you, but all over his face. You squirted on his tongue and beard as he still let you ride out your high.

Coming to a still, you tried to regulate your breathing. He pulled himself up from you and wiped his mouth with his hand, smirking at you. You rose as quickly as your trembling legs would let you onto your knees and licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Grabbing his belt, you undid it and pulled it free before unbuttoning his pants and motioning for him to take them off.

Francisco backed off the bed and pulled his pants, boxers and socks off before returning to you. Your eyes widened not only at the length but the girth he had. He was the biggest you had ever seen in person. You took his length in your hand and offered a few casual strokes, earning a groan from him. In one fell swoop he grabbed your thighs and threw you back on the bed, head hitting the pillows behind you. He laid down between your open thighs and rubbed them.

“Do you have any condoms?” You asked.

“Well, I actually got a vasectomy a few years back and I’m clean so unless,” he replied, gauging your response.

You nodded, “Yeah I’m clean too.”

He smiled and leaned down, pecking your lips with a feverish kiss.

Grabbing his length, he lines up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You grab his shoulders to sturdy yourself as the stretch overtakes you. It both burns and feels amazing at the same time. He pushes the rest of himself into your aching pussy and looks at you with heat filled eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so tight hermosa. Feels s’fucking good.”

You nod as he starts moving his hips into yours. You grunt as he picks up the pace, rocking deep into you. “Ugh b-baby.”

He huffs, “Is that really what you wanna call me?”

You looked at him puzzled.

Smiling he says, “You, know. I know that nick name the teachers gave me.” Your eyebrows popped up, “Daddy Morales? You ever called me that?”

Smirking, you shake your head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sensations building inside you.

“Maybe I want you to call me that, huh?”

“Want me to call you daddy?” you ask with a devilish grin.

He looks down at your body beneath him as he rocks deep into you. “Yeah, I do, I really do.”

You reach your body up and whisper in his ear, “Make me want to.” Nipping his ear with your teeth you laid your body back down and rolled your hands on his chest.

He let out a deep growl and pulled out of you. He flipped you over onto your stomach and slotted your legs together, situating himself with his thighs on either side of you. His hands slid beneath your hips and tugged them up, so your ass was slanted, exposing your already puffy pussy from between your legs. He slid back inside you and squeezed your ass.

The force he had from behind was insatiable, pounding insensately into you. The bracelets and necklace that you still wore banged against your skin with the movement. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again as the over stimulation washed over you. He slapped your ass sharply and you let out a moan. A few more deep plunges and you were launched into your third orgasm.

You grabbed the sheets beneath you and screamed, “Oh fuck daddy yes! Ugh, daddy fuck me!”

He grunted and spilled himself inside you, swelling to an unimaginably bigger size, causing your orgasm to linger and spin your head until you both fell exhausted.

Panting on your shoulder, he let out a huffed laugh, “Fuck, that was so fucking hot.”

He pulled himself out of you and you whimpered at the emptiness you suddenly felt. You did your best to catch your breath and slink out of the bed, grabbing the tossed aside panties and retreating to the ensuite on the opposite side of the room from then the closet.

When you returned, Francisco was lying in bed with his bare chest still out, resting his arm over his eyes. You smiled and jumped onto the bed before sliding under the covers and resting your head on him.

He hummed, “That was really something sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of that.”

Giggling to yourself, you replied, “Yeah, I think you’re pretty much stuck with me now. I don’t think I can find head like that anywhere else.”

He grinned and squeezed your shoulder with his hand, still smelling slightly like you.

“Alright, let’s get some shut eye. I’m a lot older than you and it is way past my bedtime.”

You swatted at him playfully but leaned into him to rest your eyes.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He said, planting a loving kiss to your head.

“Merry Christmas daddy.”

February came and you had officially left your job. A part of you was sad, but that didn’t last long as you spent more and more time with Francisco and Liliana over the last month and grew even closer to them. In celebration of your relationship being official, he rented a box at the Dallas Stars hockey game the first Saturday after your exit from Long Horn Academy.

You were waiting patiently in your apartment for him to arrive when you felt a buzz in your pocket and his name light up with a “here” text. You were wearing leggings, Converse, a simple hoodie and you threw a denim jacket over top as you left. Your Chanel purse draped over your shoulder of course.

Your eyes were met with a blinding light as you stepped into the parking lot of your apartment building. You looked around confused, as you didn’t see his Mustang anywhere. You were about to reach into your hoodie pocket for your phone when you heard a honk and glanced up. There was a passenger side window rolled down of a cherry red Range Rover over to your right, with a certain someone waiving you over.

Leaning into the window you asked, “Who’s is this?

“It’s yours hermosa.” he said confidently.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“Get in.” He nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you climbed in and looked around at the stunning leather interior.

Francisco was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt with white running shoes, by far one of the most casual outfits you’ve ever seen him in.

You reached over and hugged him. “Thank you, this is amazing Francisco baby.”

He smiled, “You know, I know I told you Mr. Morales makes me feel old, but to be honest hermosa. Francisco makes me feel REALLY old.” He said with a chuckle.

You looked taken aback but smirked, “Okay, well now what am I supposed to call you?”

He glanced into the back seat and reached his right arm back. You watched as he pulled a baseball hat with a Standard Oil logo laden across the front and popped it firmly on his head, “Just call me Frankie.”

@rmwarn90

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #sugarbaby #sugardaddy #fanfiction #f!reader

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sreehari28 · 1 year ago

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year ago

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Patch It Up Baby

A Sarge and lil Mama fic

Summary: It’s 1977 and Jesse Presley has never loved his family more or had more chances to prove it. When America’s last dynasty implodes, it‘s up to the Presley heir to mend and rebuild what’s left. His first and least glamorous commission is to take his little sister Daisy Mae to rehab in Texas after she embraced their daddy’s rock n’ roll lifestyle a little too thoroughly. In the great game-plan of getting mama and daddy back together, keeping up appearances and bolstering up his siblings’ spirits, what Jesse doesn’t expect is Donna. Just…Donna.

Warnings: mentions of past hard drug use, mentions of withdrawls, a brief but recounted callous comment encouraging death, children dealing with parent’s divorce, publicity of said divorce, paparazzi stalking, a panic attack, Jesse being a bit hardcore like his father to a stalker and mentions of his previous violence, brief sexual scene and occasional mentions of sex.

My thanks to all the dears who helped me so much with this, who added their lines to this and aided in the plot, @prompted-wordsmith @elvisabutler @stylespresleyhearted @ab4eva @butlersxbirdy @eliseinmemphis to mention a wee few

NOTE: In this chapter the baby that is referenced as growing inside Elaine was conceived during Elvis and Elaine’s divorce, and ends up being Danny. Jesse refers to his upcoming sibling as a “last” and “surprise” baby, which he was. However he was neither the last nor the only surprise for Elaine and Elvis. Danny came and a few years later was followed by Shiloh. So uh, that means better times must be around the bend, right? But of course, Jesse wouldn’t know that. ;)

2nd Generation Refresher: as this is out of order and missing many key pieces, I understand it may not make perfect sense yet but I hope y’all enjoy getting a glimpse into the family later on. You’ll meet Elvis and Elaine over the phone and the older kids as they grow into their maturity. Everyone is a bit spread out in their different pursuits in this one compared to the last one shot when it was all young, familial domestic chaos, but there’s little updates in here I think y’all will enjoy. Xoxo

Jesse’s long and ringed forefinger pecks peevishly at the Rehab Center’s grimy rotary dial. He waits for the phone connection to be made with studied nonchalance, leaning casually against the bleach white wall in a tiny alcove, checking like a studied dandy for dirt under his nails. It’s a photogenic sorta lean, one boot crossed over the other and bell bottoms flaring in a way that naturally carries the eye to the belt buckle at his tapered waist.

Daddy taught him well enough how to cut a figure, and daddy was the reason why Jesse had any need to pretend nonchalance when calling home.

Home, he wants to scoff.

Not Graceland while this fiasco lasted.

Graceland was too storied and way too watched. Home was Palm Springs and warm weather and privacy to figure out what the hell the rest of them were gonna do with their lives and if mama and daddy could still make it. Together.

Home, where mama could cook this last little one that precious few in the outside world knew was coming, home where daddy could eat crow and stay sober.

Jesse’s teeth ache from the way he grinds them in his stress, he rubs at his cheek and wills the tenseness away, if he answered with clenched teeth mama would be able to tell. And mama would worry. And mama had done enough worrying to nearly cost her her life.

“Hello?” came through the receiver.

Jesse felt guilty for one brief second at his immense relief that she’d been the one to answer, not daddy, but then a flood of very legitimate grievances against one Elvis Presley came flooding in and he shrugged it off. “Hey mama.” he kept his voice down but he couldn’t help the smile that lifted his tone at just hearing her sound so soft and rested. “How’re you doin’?” he ventured, keeping an eye at the nurses and patients passing nearby, always aware of potential eavesdroppers.

“I’m good baby, I’m real good, how’re you holdin’ up?”

Jesse listens for any trace of a fib in her tone but for once she doesn’t sound strained when she says she’s good. He’ll take it that physically she must be finally good for the first time this whole pregnancy. “Thas good.” he whispers, cupping the receiver closer, “He takin’ care of you, mama? He’s being gentle a-and he’s -he bein’ respectful?”

Of her space and her nerves and her whole taken for granted self. He’s picked a cuticle till it’s bleeding on him, wincing he sticks it into his mouth, full lips curling around it, something his mama gave him in a face strikingly similar to his father’s. The scowl he sends at a lurking relation of some inmate in this druggie bedlam is entirely his father’s and he’s grateful for that one singular legacy. It’s come in real handy as folks come up to him and pepper him with questions on the football field like:

-is your dad strung out on coke or heroin these days? is it true what happened to your sister, man? did your daddy force himself or is your mama so pathetic she couldn’t say no to a man she was divorcin? got anythin’ I can trade off ya, Presley?-

Benign, regular family questions. Sorta questions most 20 year olds have gotta answer, for sure. He sucks harder and tastes copper round his finger.

“Oh yes. Really darling, I’m fine. We’re fine, in fact.” Mama’s talking again. That’s a bold statement. To refer to them as “we” and to say they’re fine. She’s not mean enough to lie to him now, not now it’s all crashed and crumbled and they’re trying to pick up the pieces together. His little cupcake world of happy families is sorta shot to hell by this point, anyways. Least Mama can do is be truthful about it, and learning from his daddy’s mistakes, Jesse chooses to believe her when she says she’s well.

That they’re good.

“Ok, good.” he breathes for what he realizes must be the first time in awhile, his fingers are numb and his lips feel tingly, he’s gotta stop doing that, he’s gonna pass out one day, he can feel it. “The baby?”

“Fine. We’re all fine, Butnin, I asked how you were.” she reminds him gently.

“I’m fine, mama.” he is, now that he’s back to breathing. Breathing is good for one’s health. He’s gonna keep it up. “Daisy is settling in alright, too.” he beats Mama to the question, glossing over some of the more queasy aspects of heroin rehabilitation. “T-the nurse here, uh, D-Donna, she uh, she said we oughta be over the worst of it. The uh, initial withdrawls and such.”

“Was it bad, Jesse?” poor mama, how’d it come to this that she has to ask it.

“Yeah, fairly.” he admits, recalling his baby sister’s foaming mouth and dilated eyes and seizing throat. Holding her as she scratched at herself like a maniac, forced her to tear at him instead. Donna, the nurse, has got him fixed up with plasters all up and down his forearms and hands. “But that part’s worn off.” he assumes mama knows what he means, if she hasn’t dealt with it directly with daddy she at least knows of it, even if his were all prescribed. “She’s just real sleepy now. Sleeps all day and most the night. I try to keep her talking and singing and playing stuff so, uh, so that she’s tired, ya know? So she’ll sleep heavy. She’ll get better quicker. That’s what Donna says, the more she sleeps the faster she’ll detox.”

“My sweet boy.” Mama murmurs and that’s compensation enough for how little sleep he’s gotten this past week and everything else.

“Happy to do it.” he mumbles, and he means it.

“I know,” she answers earnestly, “and we’re grateful.” they both let that lie and after a minute she speaks up again, a saucy undercurrent to her tone that throws him for a loop. It's been such ages since he heard it: “So, this Donna, you’ve mentioned her last time and before that, too. Is she an experienced nurse, dear?”

Jesse groans into his hand only to realize it’s amplifying the sound through the speaker. In his loneliness here he may have forgotten how obvious it is that he’s latched on like a limpet to the one genuine human who’ll give him something besides canned answers when his sister aspirates on her own spit in the bathroom floor.

“I-I-I lost one sister this way already.” he’d gasped to sweet little Donna and her baby cheeked self as they peeled Daisy off the floor and got her on a stretcher, “Jo, Jo died from this.”

Not a drug withdrawal, of course. Jo had drowned inside mama. But still.

-Aspirating.

It held a bizarre terror for him, that fancy word, his whole childhood and the whole nine months of waiting for Marie to come out healthy. He’d never forget asking his daddy one day at table how they could be sure this new baby wouldn’t drown, too. Daddy had gotten so angry before bursting into tears at the head of the table. Nobody had ever seen anything like it before or since. All that grief just stored up, and him scared as any of them for a repeat and no kid’s tactless inquiry and it all surface. “We don’t know.” Mama had said and daddy cut her off harshly, “No, Elaine!” he’d near yelled, “No, don’t even say it. This one’s gonna live, I'm demandin’ it.” Mama had bit her lip and replied softly, “Then we’d better start praying so.”

And that’s what they did every night for eight months, Daddy led them all in laying their hands on mama's growing belly and prayed and prayed until Marie came screaming into the world with clear lungs. And so Jesse got himself on the floor and beat at Daisy’s back while praying and Donna did it too, right with him.

“Uh, Donna’s pretty young but she’s capable.” he answers mama’s question.

“How old?” there’s nothing sly in her tone now, just genuine concern for the quality of her daughter’s care takers.

“She’s nineteen, mama,” Jesse admits with a wince, “she’s my age.”

“Ah.” and a long pause follows.

“There’s others too, but she’s the most eager, most -caring.”

“That’s good. Thank God he sent someone for y’all. I knew He would.”

“Yeah, she’s, she’s real sweet mama.” he assures.

“Oh is she?” there’s a smirk in her tone now.

“Nineteen and sweet.” that’s daddy’s voice coming through the phone from a distance and Jesse starts to stiffen. “Does this Donna happen to be pretty, too, son?”

Jesse is back to grinding his teeth and it sends a spark of pain up to his temple.

“Elvis!” His mama honest to god titters and it’s been such a while since Jesse heard that sound he suddenly feels like forgiving his daddy a few things just for that. Just for bringing that back. It makes his eyes sting.

Donna has hair the color of mamas but with a touch more red in it and it curls and fans in such a messy and unstudied way as to remind him of an artist, all while smashed beneath a nurse's cap. And her smile is sunshine incarnate and her eyes are as blue as his and her lips as plump as strawberries and she’s the first person he feels like he can trust in ages. Not that he’s trusted her with much besides showing he’s at the end of his rope with exhaustion and emotion. But she never missed a beat.

“I-I-I don’t mean to keep mentioning her it’s just-“ he bites his lip harshly before deciding to be frank, “it’s hard to trust anyone. Even here everyone is gossiping about us, they think I can’t hear ‘em but I do and it’s all the time and I ain’t going up to one of those tongue wags and asking them to help Daisy when she’s that vulnerable. I just can’t. So -so it’s Donna.” he explains.

It’s dead silent on the other end for a length of time that oughta be uncomfortable but instead it soothes something in Jesse’s soul to think that he got his point across enough to shut his smartass father up for a whole minute.

“I’m sorry this is so damn hard for you, son,” it comes in a deep rumble and bitter as he is, Jesse feels his hands sweat and his cheeks too, or else that sting has overflowed and he’s crying. In public. “I’m sorry you’re havin’ to pay for my sins.”

“I-I-I’m just glad you’re back.” he croaks and looks about the place frantically to make sure he’s unobserved.

It had been so good that day daddy walked through the threshold at Graceland looking twenty pounds lighter and stone cold sober, there to sort out his children, there to intervene for Daisy. The day mama’s body gave out on her and she puddled like so much water on Graceland’s foyer floor, as if her body trusted Elvis to take care of her family even if her mind wasn’t sure he’d forgiven her for the divorce. Daddy had been perfect that day, picked mama up like a baby and took her to the hospital, made press statements like a ordinary human sayin simply that he’d “jacked it all up and was here to make amends.”

Mama and him tucked off to California to grow that baby that made her faint and Jesse was charged with Daisy and bringing her here to Dallas. It had felt like old times, Sergeant Presley and all that famous stage presence ordering them all to battle stations.

It wasn’t till later that Jesse wondered how the hell the man had the gall to show up and demand respect. Turns out mama had kept that fire going bright enough all the kids just fell in line like nothing had ever been askew. Jesse wonders if now he can go back to being nineteen again. He’s a little scared to hope. That’s the worst of it, he’s not bitter, he’s scared.

Twenty year olds have futures with little nurses named Donna. For now Jesse is not a normal almost-twenty year old.

“I’m glad you’re back.” he repeats to his daddy, “Please…stay…back.”

It’s what he begs Daisy when she tries to bribe him to sneak her illegal shit next morning.

“Enough of that, you’re nearly sober and you’re gonna stay sober. Please stay good, f’me! Please.” he begs and weedles until her big blue eyes go from watery to scornful and she has fun at his pathetic expense but Jesse doesn’t mind. It gives her something to do, teasing him for being a blubbering softy over her. It distracts her. It assures Daisy she’s wanted, that somebody -more than one in fact- would be devastated if she didn’t win this fight.

She’s become a skeleton as the detox racks her. Hospital food tasting bad on a good appetite, it’s ever worse on a poor one and Jesse tears out clumps of his now shaggy black hair in desperation to have her stay nourished. He’s not supposed to be sleeping there overnight but Donna fibs for him. He’s not supposed to sneak shit into the clinic but Donna takes him back to her house, lets him use her stove to cook pancakes -Daisy’s favorite- and helps him smuggle them in under his leather jacket. All for the price of a motorcycle ride.

Jesse’s belly burned for nights after where her little hands had overlocked to hold onto him during the ride, burning him and cooking his guts hot and wanting even beneath the leather and the layers.

“Donna’s got the same spatulas you use, mama.” He’s reporting by the third week.

“The baby’s the size of an cantelope.” she reports back.

“What’ve y’all been doin?” he tries to make conversation and even to his own ears he sounds suspicious. When did he start to sound like Jack? How much more could daddy possibly screw this up? Knock his ex-wife up doubly? Like a cat? Jesse snorts and covers with a cough.

“Talkin’ mostly, floatin in the pool.” he can hear her shrug from here, “It’s terribly hot.”

“Mmm.” he sympathizes.

“We got a marriage license yesterday.” Daddy pipes up and Jesse lets out a stifled sob of relief. The gang is back together, it would seem.

“Cool.” he rasps before Donna passes and then approaches in concern for his blotchy face.

“You ok?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, yeah fine,” Jesse scrambles, “hay fever. Killer.”

“Who’s that, Butnin?” mama asks.

“Uh, umm nobo-“

“Is that Donna?” she guesses and he winces for the umpteenth time at this damn phone.

“Mamaaaa.” he begs.

“Can I talk to her? Please, please!” she begs in turn.

“Mama no!” Jesse pleads right back and Donna backs away with that keen sense of intruding while unable to suppress her fond smile at this cute, boyish side to such a burdened young man.

By week four Donna and him have taken to walking Daisy along the corridors, getting her strength back and making her move, her always lanky frame a featherweight between them now. They all share a laugh at how Daisy towers over Donna’s tiny self, has to hunch to use the petite nurse’s shoulder while Jesse’s height makes her strain to reach. They can use a laugh, the stares they get as Daisy’s famous face gets hauled past in pajamas and socks makes Jesse lose all appetite afterwards, his fingers going cold and his lips numb. He’d like to punch something but everything here is breakable, his sister and his family’s reputation, most of all.

It’s not fair to her and it’s more work for her but this loss of appetite worries Donna and by the end of their long day’s shift they’re together again as she force feeds Jesse tacos from a nearby stand, as they walk around the old part of the city and inadvertently become friends. He may have sucked some mango salsa from her fingers, but neither of them mention it. Too busy watching the others' faces as the sun dies out and eventually he drives her home, her body tucked behind his on his bike, wind whipping her hair that’s escaped his offered helmet.

By the fifth night of this routine he steals a kiss. It’s not hard fought, she leans into him eagerly and for the first time in his life there’s nothing about conquest in the act for him, it’s just…nice. So nice he tries it the next night while they’re sat on his bike, parked by a dance hall. It’s less nice and more like licking fire this time, suddenly his sweet intentions for her are a burning mass of need and that night Jesse goes back to his dinky motel alone and engages in wasteful practices in the shower. Donna had asked where he was staying and when he told her she’d been aghast.

“I just prefer something more -normal.” he’d said.

“Sure but -but that place is dangerous, Jesse.” she’d been so concerned for him and he gobbled it up like a starved man. “Normal folks don’t stay there even.”

“Maybe I’m not normal.” he’d quipped and Donna thought about his mother and her mafia connections, the ones with the dirt that sank Colonel Parker during the divorce, she thought of the bike clubs that Jesse is seen frequenting in the magazines, she thinks about how far the Presley’s might go to reconnect with normal folks -she holds her tongue. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, lil, I can handle myself.” he’d assured her as he thumbed out her frown.

“I know.” Donna had replied, “I mean, I’ve read about how you handle yourself.” and she’d run an admiring hand down his bicep before kissing him again.

That was another thing he liked about Donna, she didn’t play stupid about his family and she also didn’t pry. She’d read about him and Jack bustin’ those guys asses for what they did to Rosalee and she mentioned it. And left it at that. Jesse liked that maybe most of all. He also liked how everything he’d trusted her with never got related by anyone else. No nursing staff gossip or a sweet insider tip for a newspaper. Donna took his trust and tucked it tight inside her chest, right in that tender heart of her’s. He liked that about her, right next to her sweet smile and her warm nature and the feel of her breasts smashed to his back on a long ride.

“You’re in love.” Daisy goaded him the next day as she scribbled in the journal he had gotten her. They encouraged writing here and Daisy’s material had gradually shifted from juvenile doodles and giant block letters proclaiming “JESSE IS AN ASSHOLE” to something that looked alarmingly like stanzas as he snooped over the top of the pages.

Jesse colored brightly at her goad and adamantly refuted it. “That’s the drugs talkin’.” he joked.

“So you’re just passin’ time with her.”

“I-I-I dunno, Daisy.” he spluttered, “It’s not exactly hoppin’ here when you’re out cold. Can only call mama so many times a day. Gotta talk to someone.”

“Does mama hate me?” she asked suddenly and he stopped cold in the middle of tuning her guitar to stare at her dumbly. “I mean -I deserve it I just…”

“No she don’t hate you!” he found his voice, “Don’t be an idiot. That self pityin’ mope don’t help the beauty of those dark circles none. She’s just wore out.”

“I wore her out.”

“Mm well, we all had a hand.” Jesse fudges.

“Ella told me to just get on with dyin.” she reveals, and Jesse puts his pick down for good this time, taking a deep breath and trying to listen coolly. “When mama was taken to the hospital and layin’ there unresponsive, Ella said I’d brought her to that, said if I was so intent on killin’ myself that I should get on with it and spare mama the suspense.”

“Well,” Jesse tries for a moderate tone, “that was a shitty thing to say.” he concedes, “And you -don’t pay Ella no attention. She’s worried and scared to death half times that Johnny won’t come back from ‘Nam. And now she’s takin’ care of Marie on top of her own baby. She’s just a little vinegary, thas all, pregnancy hormones. Took it out on you.”

“I think she’s scared the guy she married in such a rush is gonna come back.” Daisy growled. She crossed out a line angrily and Jesse was really starting to worry about those scribbles.

Jesse let her finish before he asked, “Why’s that?” It’s not like he got much thinking done lately between the court hearings and getting his head knocked about on the turf.

“She don’t love him.” Daisy rolled her eyes heavenward in an action that mama would have looked on with annoyance. Jesse glared at Daisy in her stead.

“People love in different ways, Daisy.” he sighed even as he had no bullets to fight her argument, Ella had left in uncharacteristically rash fashion, seemingly unable to take the atmosphere at home anymore. “And she says John’s a good man.”

“All that means is he don’t beat her.” Daisy snarked.

“Well, that’s a step towards romance.” Jesse joked back and they let the subject lie.

Each day Daisy gets stronger and writes more and more in that little book. Not that Jesse sees her at it most times, it’s just the pen she wedges in to keep her place gets closer and closer to the middle, and then towards the back. Snooping isn’t an option but he imagines they’ve got a lotta heartbreak on those pages, maybe bled out like lyrics.

Now days he makes the walk with her without Nurse Donna, and it’s both sad and a victory in one. Now that she’s strong enough to notice the stares Daisy takes delight in feebly flipping off her voyeurs and that’s a fight Jesse doesn't have it in him to win. If it makes her grin, he allows it, that stupid, crooked little boy grin that his daddy plopped right onto a young girl’s face. She’s perfect, she’s perfect and getting healthy and the stares don’t matter much. Not till he hears a voice he’s become very attuned to, snap at some idling nurses:

“Haven’t you got any work to do?”

And his head spins like a top on his neck and sure enough, that was Donna, temper snapping for what might be the first time in her sweet life, and Jesse feels his tingly gratitude down to his very toes.

“She’s alright, that one.” Daisy smirks beside him and little does he know her enthusiasm stems partly from last night when Daisy gave a little sisterly admonition to Miss Donna that her brother liked her and if she didn’t treat his soft heart gentle like, then Daisy was gonna unstring her guitar and end her with a metal cord.

“How ya doin, mama?” he asks her on a Tuesday and even to himself his voice sounds better. He may be far more tired than he was when he first came in here but his relief at Daisy’s progress colors his tone in hope.

“Doing good Butnin, real good.” she sounds good alright, more than good and Jesse uncurls his fist and let’s himself relax a little as he gives his daily report on Daisy. And Donna.

“Rosalee told me she’s gonna pop in and see y’all.” Mama informs him.

“Good time for it,” Jesse hums, “Mae Mae’s better enough to chat but she could use the encouragement.”

“I bet.” Mama sounds sad again. That won’t do.

Jesse lip curls up in mischief as he asks next, “Jack been by to see ya?” he inquires about that little sea creature hybrid he’s been missing and must call brother, “Brought any dolphins home to meet ya yet?”

“Oh Jesse! Stop!” she laughs a sweet peal of laughter and Jesse smugly twirls the phone cord round and round at his success, “He’s coming to dinner tonight, he has been too caught up before, he’s been out on the ocean for six weeks! I’m scared to see the state of his skin!”

“Welllll,” Jesse drawls, “No way the sun could burn that dimple off so, he’ll be fine.”

“He actually saved someone’s life, uh, day before yesterday.” Daddy’s voice rumbles through the receiver and Jesse’s eyes roll backwards a little at the way he’s never caught his parents separate on this trip, not even once. He can picture the patio phone and its loungers and its umbrellas right now, and imagines that daddy is probably cradling mama’s belly like he can push that magic healing through the skin and make that baby the healthiest infant California’s ever seen.

“Did he now?” Jesse admires, “Makin’ us proud, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, hauled someone who’d been adrift for ages, right up into his boat.” Daddy elaborates without a hint of mockery in his proud tone and Jesse smiles to himself.

“Bout time he put those muscles to use, s’not like he uses them when carrying snails around.” he teases back because having a serious and admiring conversations about Jackson might be a step too far in the healing process. Not this early, mama resting and then getting remarried and cooking a baby is plenty for the plate. Conceding that Jack isn’t a walking disaster is a little too much too soon. Heroics aside.

By week six at the Center they’re into behavioral shit and Jesse can freely admit this isn't the Presley family’s strong suit, but he’s gotta hand it to his sister that she is less preoccupied during it than he is. Out of respect for Rosalee’s interest in the same profession, Daisy pays a decent amount of attention to the therapist’s counsel. Jesse would be more attentive if the first fifty pages of Red West’s freshly published tell-all of his family’s secrets wasn’t banging around in his head. Somehow, somehow it’s not even the dirt that gets to him, makes him stagger out into the hall after a while and crumple against a cart and let the world go dim.

It’s the sweet stuff, the gentle stuff, the stuff that was only ever supposed to be theirs as a family and that fuckers like Red West were goddamn privlidged to be witnesses to, spilled out for all the world to pick apart and psycho-analyze. He hasn’t told Daisy and now she’s asleep and as he’s on the floor in the deserted hall he finds there’s really nothing stopping him from doing what he wants. So he panics and lets himself work up to a dim eyed fury and only the cool shock of a wet rag against his neck brings him back from it.

“Just breathe for me, honey.” That little Texan ascent is saying as he gulps into a brown bag with the embarrassed realization he’s had a panic attack. Sure Daddy had them at his age, too, but that was to go perform in front of hundreds of folks. This is just from reading Red Fuckin’ West’s bad prose. He can hear himself laughing, hiccuping little laughs of derision at himself and it, and Donna cooing all the while.

“You can’t drive your bike like that.” she points to his still shaky hands half an hour later.

It’s comforting watching Donna shut the place down, not that it’s totally abandoned at night, not at all, but just watching her finish up her duties and stash away her papers and arrange her workspace feels as if the heart of the place, the vitality if it, is turning in for the night. And he’s going with it.

He follows Donna like a lost puppy and she doesn’t mind it, he’s sweet and soft spoken and no matter what she does she only gets weak chuckles from him.

His boisterous charm and tired joviality is threadbare and she feels like it’s the right thing to do to slip her hand into the crook of Jesse’s elbow, to gently tow him out of the Center’s fluorescent lit maze and out into the night. He giggles at her guiding him into the passenger side, a soft little noise of trusting gentleness that is bizarrely attractive in such a capable man. He folds his long limbs into her dinky car and waits patiently for her to get into her side.

“What?!” Donna asks him as Jesse keeps gazing at her with big blue eyes and droopy pink lips as she turns the key and fidgets with the windows to get some air flow, “Am I gonna have to buckle you in?” she teases at the way he’s just melted into the seat, head leaned against the headrest and long limbs folded where they first flopped.

“Mmmmmaybeee.” Jesse drags it out and giggles again -and she knows it is common to be a little drunk, a little silly, a little loopy after a panic attack as severe as the one she found him having, but she’s never heard of it or seen it be so cute. Against her better judgment to coddle a grown man, Donna leans over the small console between them and reaches across Jesse for the seatbelt, getting the strongest whiff of his natural musk and spicy cologne she’s ever gotten, it makes the musty cab of the car feel ten times hotter than it was moments ago and she fumbles in her haste to hurry up and distance herself.

It’s silly, Donna thinks, she’s being silly to find this procedure of bucking him in a intimate thing when they’ve done far more, when they’ve kissed heatedly on his bike and danced wildly to that new Elton John record in her off time. They’ve been more forward than this but somehow his pliant and drowsy magnetism has her heart thudding and her body responding in ways not even his glorious kissing could produce. But the way his breath puffs from his lips and the way he looks at her as if she’s everything he wants in this moment makes it hard to brush this interaction off as a nurse with her patient. Or a friend helping a friend. Donna brought Jesse in because he was physically unfit to drive, she is being kind because he’s obviously had an awful day, he’s loose and pliant because of exhaustion -these are familiar things to Donna, they are integral to her vocation and her expertise.

And yet there’s those eyes of his, soft and burning all at once, catching her skin on fire and soothing it right after.

It does nothing to make her breathing calm as she drags the buckle across his soft yet lean belly, down the taper of his waist, so willowy and elegant that it makes her want to cry in envy, sliding it to latch at his hip.

“Donna.” he rasps before she can pull away, his hand shakily coming up to touch her cheek and she stalls, feeling as scared as a kid for what he’ll say next, “You take the sunshine with ya, everywhere you go. M’sorry for those poor suckers we’ve left.” he jerks his head towards the blazing ball of light that is the Center amidst the dark parking lot and Donna blinks at the compliment, absorbing it slowly as his fingers on her cheek do their best to wipe her mind blank.

“Daisy is gonna be fine.” Donna assures, scrambling to order her reassurances for maximum comfort, “She’s getting stronger and she’ll be asleep the whole time we’re gone. A-and we gotta take care of you, ok? Can’t have you going down too, can we?”

“Okay.” he whispers and she realizes her hand is still pressed to his belly. “I-I’ve had a bad day.” he admits, and it’s the first self focused thing she’s ever heard out of this forever uncomplaining boy.

“Let’s uh, let’s get you home -rested. Let’s get you rested.” she propels herself back over to her side of the car and jerks the gear more forcefully than needed before driving them out. She’s not sure they actually talked about it or that it was agreed to verbally but they somehow both know they’re headed to her rented house, the place with the ratty sofa and the duck taped windows and the malfunctioning stove that Jesse cajoled into working long enough to make Daisy batch after batch of fluffy pancakes. She had nearly sprung on him back then, taken him down to the floor and ravished him for being such a nice human being.

The bar might be low for men, but since that day, Donna had learned that Jesse Presley was more than lean legs, a nice ass, a gorgeous face and an earnest desire to please. Jesse Presley was a good man. And so Donna felt no qualms about taking him to her house, plopping him down on the sofa after fetching sheets, and letting his grabby hands tug her down atop him for a goodnight kiss. A kiss that lasted, and lasted, and lasted. Lasted until he was kissing between her breasts, the neck of her tshirt tugged down in a way that would deform its shape forever as she was idiotically scrambling to undo his clunky belt, eager to see the expanse of perfect, golden skin that his face and neck promised.

Donna had never gone this far with a man before but some inner voice told her it was a once in a lifetime chance, not to sleep with a Presley, but to ease a boy who needs so much comfort right now he literally can’t breathe. Jesse’s kisses don’t stop and she doesn’t try to make them, he’s inexorable while being slow, and it’s a combination she’d never witnessed before. Perhaps if he’d rushed her, or made an outright pass, she’d have had time to consider, to deny. But he just kissed her and kissed her as his hands mapped and worshiped her, caressing her all the way from his allotted couch to her bed until she was beneath him, accepting him inside her body like she had let him in her heart.

Idly Donna wondered how many girls his father took and left with the same good intentions, winders if the generations will just keep at it, on and on. It doesn’t feel trite though, she’s not sure if it’s because it’s her first time or because of how intensely tender he is, or the way he cries partway through the act.

“Hay fever, sorry.” Jesse insists weakly.

“Killer this time of year.” Donna agrees, stroking down the sweaty muscles of his rippling back, “For me it’s the cedar.”

She feels trusted with his tears, cherished by his revenant kisses, and never once does he give her cause to regret it, to panic. It’s slow and needy, strong but kind, the whole way through -just like him. Donna’s eyes sting at the realization he’s giving her such a sweet first time, even if he doesn’t know it. She finds herself sniffling with him over the thought that it might be the only time.

“Thank you, thank you.” he gushes, sweet as anything in a thin whisper, after he scrambles out of her and she adds her hand to his to finish him off. He had dexterously snagged a pillow case off one of her pillows and after it had served its purpose, he dropped the sodden thing to the ground.

There’s nothing trite about the way they lay in sweet silence afterwards, the way he doesn’t even try to collect his autonomy but instead winds those long limbs around her and keeps his face on her sweaty chest. “You’re a rare one Donna.” he praises, sleepy and gentle over her heart.

Donna struggled against sleep for the next hour, desperate to engrave the feeling of him laying melted on her in peaceful slumber and the pounding ache between her legs that had finally known a man. Something like virginity that she simply hadn’t gotten around to tossing away, was suddenly something very dear and painfully sentimental to her now it was gone. Now it was now wrapped up in soft kisses, large hands entwining hers to the sheets and raspy endearments. She fell asleep propped against the pillow with his head on her belly, repeating to herself at the rhythm of her pulse down there -it’s just a fling, it’s just a fling, don’t expect more, you hopeful idiot.

Cold sheets, or the sound of the door shutting from his exit or the scratchy presence of a note the next morning were conspicuously absent when Donna woke up.

Instead she heard the sound of gentle babbling, like the way a person might talk to a pet and combined with the gentle wriggling she sensed beneath the sheets, Donna engaged briefly in a time warp and wondered when she got a puppy and who was talking to it. But there was no puppy here, instead, as cognisense fully set in she frantically sat up and beat at the wriggly sheets, Donna found Jesse, still long and lean and naked as she hazily recalled from the dimness last night, wedged between her legs and chatting with her muff, placing chaste kisses to it that barely parted her outer lips.

“No way.” she said her foggy morning thoughts aloud at the sight of this beautiful boy still with her in the daylight and more pressingly -face to face with her used and unwashed and unshaven privates. “Oh what are you going to do?” she wailed as that mortifying relaxation sunk in. “Why’re you down there, you nut?“

“Good Mornin’ to you too, miss.” Jesse laughed and his breath tickled her core that was feeling strangely achy and happy all at once. “I’m gonna lick your wounds, silly.” he slapped her thigh gently as he went on as if to reprimand her while tugging up a mildly bloody sheet corner as evidence for his displeasure, “Donna, ya shoulda said, dear.”

“Oh it’s not a big deal.” she insisted in a bit of a panic to get him away from her vagina and in an attempt to convince herself it didn’t mean much. “You were so good. Don’t worry about it.”

“But you shoulda told me.” he insisted gently.

“There wasn’t much time for talking.” she cringed as soon as she said it but he took that in stride after realizing she was not insinuating any wrongdoing on his part.

“Are you hurtin’ much?” he asked gently and he was still down there, broad and smooth shoulders wedged between her stubbled thighs, tapering down to his tiny waist and that peachy butt and then those legs that were hanging off the edge of her bed like so much lumber. “Donna?” he asked with laughter in his voice as her eyes glazed over in review of him.

“No, not much, you were very nice. It felt great.” she insisted truthfully and ended with a little hiss as he ran his knuckles along her petals. “I mean, I-I’m honestly not sure I’m up for more activities right this minute but it’s not bad. It’s not hurting. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Did you even…peak?” he asked and his face flushed red like he was most ashamed of not being sure of that.

“No I-I was mostly just soaking up the whole…experience.” she admitted because it was true and didn’t strike her as deplorable at all. He had been big and she was new and it wasn’t quite comfortable enough to get there. Which hadn’t diminished the experience or changed the point of their tryst anyway. “That wasn’t the point of it all anyway.” she said softly while reaching to push his hair out of his eyes. It had grown inches since she first met him. “Not for me.”

Jesse’s face softened quickly at that. Like she had struck a nerve and soothed him all at once. “Yeah,” he nodded, “it wasn’t for me either.” and it feels like a far larger confession that it is for both of them, “Which is rich comin’ from the man who got to come.” he laughed at himself right after and she did too. “Now spread these legs so hims can do a lil community service on hers poor widdle clam shell.”

Donna never would have thought such babyish, almost infantilizing gibberish could be so authoritative but the potency of its endearing qualities, with his skilled tongue and earnest desire to please, ensured her cooperation so that they didn’t leave the bed for hours yet. Donna soon forgot her unshaved legs, her need for a glass of water and the fact she’d forgotten to set an alarm -and then when she recalled that detail in a lull of his caresses, she recalled that it was Saturday and she was off. And then he wiped her mind blank again.

It wasn’t till halfway through the radio blasting Dancing Queen and Jesse discoing in jeans and nothing else while flipping an omelet that it seemed to occur to him there was a life outside Donna’s little place and Donna’s fluffy hair and Donna’s ratty rented flat, and Donna’s sunshiny smile. She watched as reality intruded on his creaseless features, an instant pucker and burdened eyes clouding that ethereally sweet face as the outside crashed in.

A world outside Donna. It felt as good to see how well she’d helped him to escape as it was painful to watch it all come back down on him, weighing like a mantle on those strong shoulders.

“Shi-eeet!” he slid to a screeching stop of his jiving in his sock feet across her linoleum floor. “I was gonna call mama, see how they’re takin’ the book release stuff.”

Donna had vaguely heard gossip about what she supposed was the book in question. A dirty little tattle tale by a fired employee is all it sounded like to her. “It’s bad then?” she asked.

“Shitty enough grammar to make me puke.” he joked bashfully and she supposed that it was his way of asking to drop it. “What’re you doin’ with your weekend? Like today? What else ya doin?”

“Not much.” she admitted, crossing her arms over the baggy shirt she’d donned to watch him cook her breakfast. “Um, I suppose I should get more groceries-“

“-I’ll make ya a list and we can go.”

“-and, oh. Ok. Yeah. And umm, well, I need to check on my dad. I usually spend my Saturday dinners with him.”

“Oh.” Jesse bit his lip, “I-I can go…you wouldn’t mind me taggin’ along for the groceries bit?” he asked.

“Of course not!” she tried to laugh off her butterflies, “Are you worried I’ll buy the wrong flour?”

“No, I’m worried you’ll buy margarine instead of good wholesome butter.” he growled gravely as he looped his arms around her waist and tugged her to him, laying his chin on the top of her head like she was dear to him and the butterflies went rogue in her belly against all her attempts to stay untangled. “I just wanna be with ya.” he admitted and she shuddered, winding her arms around his willowy waist and clinging on.

“I’d like that.” she admitted.

“Lemme just call my Mama real quick?” he asked.

Donna cringed before admitting, “I don’t have a working landline.”

“What?” Jesse pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, his own wide in protest, “Good lord darlin’, that won’t do. Livin’ alone and no phone for me to hear if you’re alright. Well, lemme grab my shirt and- help yourself to the omelet, baby. And remind me to get ya a damn phone!” he was already disappearing down her hall and she stared at the egg and ham concoction before her, wishing the terrible anxiety she felt over much she liked him would calm so she could taste it.

They ended up swinging by the Center first as Jesse acted like he’d committed a murder when noon rolled around and he hadn’t checked on Daisy yet. Donna felt for him and recalled the feel of his tongue too clearly to a fuss as she flicked her blinker to turn left, away from groceries and phones, and back towards her workplace. Some little part of her hoped he’d forget his promise to buy her one, it was extravagant and a little embarrassing.

The thumping beat of Springsteen’s Thunder Road filled her car with verve that matched the muggy exhaust tainted breeze that whipped through the windows and the noonday sun that glinted off Jesse’s rings as his hand wind surfed out the window.

“I got to play bass on this one.” Jesse murmured like someone might mention they had a hand in scoring a strike in their local bowling championships.

“What?! On this? You’ve worked with Springsteen?” she cried in shocked admiration.

“S’all my mama’s doin’.” he insisted as if regretting he’d made a deal of it. “A-and daddy. He taught me bass.” it’s the first personal thing about his daddy he’s divulged and Donna tucks it away for safe keeping.

“Aren’t you marvelous.” Donna swears.

“Hardly,” he blushes, “S’just when your name is Presley and your mom’s got her hand on the levers -artist’s tend to let ya mess about.”

“I somehow doubt they’d let a complete dud jam on their album.” she snarks and he bites his lip and doesn't retort.

The harmonica warbles on and Jesse’s hand raps out a rhythm on the car door. “-show a little faith there’s magic in the night! You ain’t beauty but hey you're alright, and that’s alright wi’me.” he sings to her, far more melodious than Springsteen’s grit and his eyes sparkle far more than stereo light ever could.

Once parked he worries his lip between his fingers as he stares at a faintly familiar car parked by his bike. It’s probably telling enough that Jesse left the thing here and went home with someone else. Or maybe folks will assume he wandered the streets and dive bars all night. At least that would spare Donna’s reputation while at it. “How ‘bout I go in first a-and if you want you come in later or -if ya don’t mind, you could wait out here? I’ll be back! Soon, I-I won’t dawdle, I swear!” he assures.

“Jesse, take all the time you need.” she smiles at him, leveraging her chair to lay back as sunbeams bathe her in a lemony glow, “I’ll be out here working on my tan.”

His smile is so full of relief that Donna realizes he was worried she’d be offended by his distancing himself and if he weren’t so relieved then maybe she’d be tempted to be offended. But she can’t bring herself to be. It’s all a mess in her head but she figures she can not make it worse by being accepting of the fact he doesn’t want to be seen with her. It’s ok, his smile makes that ok, as does the way those long fingers unclasp his seatbelt and the way those long limbs lean over her in a mirroring of last night and she feels those plush pink lips smooch her forehead, long and devoutly.

“Sit tight, baby.” he commands with his lips barely leaving her skin and then he’s out the door and strutting across the parking lot without a seeming trace of nervousness.

Rounding the hall down towards Daisy’s room he passes by the familiar wall phone and stops in his tracks at the sight of Rosalee propping Daisy up while having the receiver wedged between their cheeks. For a flash in his mind they don’t look a day over six with their scrunched faces and contrasting hair, always so compatible while entirely opposites.

Rosalee spots him first as Daisy is busy yacking at whoever they’ve held captive on the line and her blue eyes light with sweet recognition as she teases, “Well hey loverboy, good morning. Or is it afternoon?”

That makes Daisy look up and she answers someone on the line by proclaiming, “Yeah, he juusssst nowww walked in.”

“Who is that?” Jesse mouths, his forehead a washboard of wrinkled anxiety that Rosalee can’t bear anymore so she cracks and admits,

“It’s Mama, silly.”

Jesse relaxes a little on that account, moreso for the fact Daisy has obviously gotten past her presumption of being hated by their mother, if the giggles and gumption in her talk are any clue.

“Well yeah, I think he can talk,” Daisy is saying, “I mean I dunno, I’ll ask him. He looks like he’s missing a few ounces of fluids. You still got your tongue Jess?”

“Hush up!” He begs, pink in the face at the thought of mama thinking he’s been sleeping around when he was entrusted by Daddy to take care of his sister.

Daisy sticks her tongue out at him and Jesse finds that more reassuring that she’s stone cold sober than any other behavior he’s seen from her in rehab. Checking to make sure their squabble is unwitnessed, Jesse turns back and sticks out his own.

“Eww put that away, where’s it even been this morning?” she groans and his closes his mouth so fast his sisters become convinced of what had just been a suspicion.

“Oooh…” Rosalee coos.

“Nope nope nope.” He silences them with a meaningful hand chopping motion to the throat, “I kinda had an episode last night, and uh, Miss Donna was kind enough to lemme ride with her since my hands were shakin’. That’s it.”

“Oh Jesse!” Mama’s concern is loud enough over the phone to blast Daisy’s eardrums and reach his own, “Are you ok? You gotta make sure you eat and sleep. Did you sleep? She taking care of you? Baby? Are you -is he there, y’all?”

Rosalee scootches aside and pats the tiny sliver of white wall between the twins in invitation and resignedly he wiggles between them as Daisy laughs and tugs on the cord to help it reach him. Tucked together like this it feels doubly absurd to Jesse to be so fretted over and also, entirely soothing. He flings a lanky arm around each girl’s shoulder and squats a little to help Daisy reach his ear as she holds the receiver for him.

“Mama I’m fine.” he insists mid giggle as Rosalee’s finger finds a way to his armpit.

“Yeah, so fine you can’t drive!” Mama retorts and it relieves him that she obviously thinks the best of him, that he was in bad enough shape to go to a random girl’s house and not that he’s behaving like an absolute horndog in a new city. Just to make her not worry, he half wishes she’d think worse of him and just be displeased.

“Alright so, maybe I snooped through Red’s book yesterday.” Jesse admits since he intended to see how daddy and she were taking it, after all. “And it’s such shitty storytelling I got a little worked up. You know how I am when folks lyrics are dry a-“

“-Red wrote a book?” Rosalee interrupts as does Daisy with a-

“-am I in it?”

Jesse purses his lips and nods, twirling the phone cord and waiting quietly for Mama to say something.

When she does it’s a droll, “Red made takin’ LSD sound boring.” And between Donna’s sweet lovin’ and mama’s superhuman ability to shrug off the most defaming shit on the planet, Jesse is left smiling and burdened with only one small anxiety.

“How’s daddy takin’ it?” he asks as his ear gets pinched from Daisy mashing her face to his, eager to overhear. Rosalee is just face watching and Jesse knows she’ll get more information from that than if she listened.

“Oh, a bit hard.” she admits, “It's just so -so- tacky. To do that to a friend!” now she sounds mad, “When did we ever hurt that narcissistic fool? If our lifestyle was so unbearable he coulda quit, he had two decades to do it.”

“Yup.” Jesse pops the word for emphasis and notices someone down the hall has a disposable camera pointed at their little huddle. He supposes they do look a little bizarre, stacked in the alcove like overly matured sardines.

“Anyone giving you trouble about it?” Mama adds in concern.

“No. You know it jus’ came out yesterday and I-I-I haven’t been out and about much today.” Jesse admits and Daisy makes suggestive hand motions at waist level that he pointedly ignores.

“He predicts that when we’re in our fifties we’ll get back together.” she murmurs.

“Spoilers!” he hisses and mama laughs as does someone in the background that could only be daddy. “A real, genuine prophet, that Red.” Jesse wheezes. “And daddy,” he hollers loudly in hopes he’ll hear, “he were wrong about me hating the damn rollercoaster. I shit my pants everytime outta joy, I swear. Don’t let nobody make ya doubt that.”

For a minute all he can hear are mama’s suppressed belly laughs before Daddy’s rings clatter on the other end and the kids can almost hear the scratch of a sideburn against the mouthpiece, “Y’all can hear me?” he rumbles through and Jesse’s face gets smashed from both sides as the girls crowd in.

“Yeah we can hear ya daddy.”

“Alright then listen to me, lil munchkins,” his voice sounds as deep and smooth as chocolate, even over a trashy phone speaker, and they all hypnotically sway in anticipation of his next word, “y’all know how much I love each of ya, that I’d happily burn down my trophy room ‘fore I let anythin’ happen to the window boxes with yer various uh, weeds and rocks and such in ‘em that Red was always mockin’ and uh, I wanna apologize to ya, from the bottom of my heart, that I hindered y’all in your quest to strap the Wests to Roman Candles that one christmas. Ya had the right idea.”

Jesse’s day gets magically better after that phone call, like one sentence from Daddy can patch up his whole life. But deep down he knows, it’s a thread of Donna running through the whole thing, buoying him up, smoothing out the creases, patching up the little cuts. It makes daddy’s voice sound richer and his promises truer and Jesse holds the receiver and smiles as Rosalee makes plans to drive back for classes and visit them while she’s at it and Daisy suggests baby names.

Things are as they should be and somehow that means he ends up walking out into the parking lot with his two sisters, one of whom was technically not released and piling into Donna’s beat up Oldsmobile and taking off for the grocery store as if that were a sane thing to do. Rosalee tries her best to meet the young woman driving them and Donna is anything but cagey, yet with Daisy’s blathering about her and Jesse’s blushing over her and Donna’s slightly overwhelmed joy at it all -they make for a chaotic entourage picking out butter and pickles and hamburger buns.

Next stop, Donna watches as Jesse and Daisy spend a solid twenty minutes weighing the value of different landlines when all Donna needs it for is to answer if she’s been murdered or not and during this analysis she learns from Rosalee that the auburn haired girl with the bashful grin is going to school at Stanford. Nearly gave her father a heart stack, she laughs when she tells it, but she wanted to study psychology and be nearer him -the subtext that Elvis was more often in Vegas than at his own home goes unsaid and Donna doesn’t bat an eye.

For what the papers have to say about this family, there’s never once been due credit given for their love and comradery. It couldn’t have been easy and maybe it was far from good at times, but the Presley’s didn’t create this much love from a vacuum. Some aching part of Donna wants to meet them all and watch them in their natural habitat, swear to them that she gets it, that she’s so starved for it herself she’d trade anything for such affectionate dysfunction.

The phone Jesse buys her has no superior merits in static or connection but it does have a zebra print handle on it that Daisy insisted was the height of chic, and he insisted in turn that Donna deserved sexy things. Looking down at her overalls and plaid shirt, Donna has to agree she’s not exactly in Jesse Presley’s league.

Before she can think on that for too long and get herself into knots about it, they’ve piled back into the car and Daisy is eagerly asking if they can get dinner -if she can eat outside of her fluorescent lit, sterile white prison. Donna feels for her and she can see Jesse trying to formulate an excuse, how now is time to let Donna be as she’s gotta go visit her dad. If she weren’t so convinced these dear kids actually liked hanging with her she’d never have the guts to suggest it but they’re too honest and forthright in their affection for her to doubt it so she hears herself suggesting:

“Y’all could come meet my dad? H-he loves your dad’s music. Learned drums awhile back just to match Fontana. I know he’d love y’all to bits.” Rosalee and Daisy raise a chorus of agreement in the backseat but Jesse hesitates and Dona refuses to be hurt by it. He’s obviously the more cautious of them, and he’s got reason to be. Donna thinks she saw someone taking photographs of them all as they came out of the market.

There’s also the unspoken worry about putting Daisy out in public so soon with surroundings teaming with alcohol and other temptations. It makes Donna clarify, haltingly, “It would be somewhere quiet, wholesome. My dad he’s um, he’s a recovering alcoholic, see? That’s how I got into nursing, mama left to go get more from life and I stayed to take care of him. He’s been clean for a good bit now but -he could use the friendship.”

Daisy looks like she’s about to take offense at being considered only fit for friendships with washed up drunks and Donna gets it, that it’s touchy but it needed to be said if they’re going to meet him. Rosalee intervenes instead with a soft,

“Sounds good to me, we’d love to meet him. For my schedule it works, doesn't it Jesse?” she asks, “I mean, as long as it’s somewhere quiet? Maybe out of the city proper?”

“Yeah,” Donna agrees, already having a joint in mind, “we’ll get out of the city. Maybe out by Plano? They’ve got good barbecue at this one place.”

“Jess?” Rosalee asks again, softer this time.

Jesse just turns around in his seat, long arm bracing himself and his bulging forearm stretched across the console and Donna’s mouth waters at the popping veins and nimble fingers as she watches him stare a mute Daisy down. “Can I take you for barbecue with Miss Donna and her daddy and trust you to behave yourself?”

“Oh for fu-“

“Daisy?” Jesse cuts her off, dead serious and so easily authoritative that Donna’s legs rub closed despite the inappropriate context. He’s not all sweet boy and needy young heir and it gives her shivers. “I mean I don’t want even a raised middle finger outta ya, you hear me? Just imagine whatever you do is gonna be plastered everywhere, think about that and we’ll go. We got a deal?”

Daisy seems to weigh her anger at her brother’s bossiness with the dire need for something besides hospital food and after twenty tense seconds of belligerence she gives in with a hoarse, “Deal. Gosh it’s not such a big thing, relax.”

That night Donna’s love for them gets cemented. They’re only licking their fingers of sticky sauce and ordering five different smoked briskets to try but the kids make conversation like they’ve learned a bit of everything from everywhere. Which in retrospect, Donna assumes that maybe they have, exposed as they were to the best and the worst, but she didn’t expect it to be so natural and kind, so outwardly focused where Jesse pulled anecdotes about the Korean War from her dad she’d never heard and a mention or two of Ma from happier times after one of Rosalee’s queries.

Everyone just talks, talks about the stuff they want to talk about but usually don’t. It’s cathartic and Donna hasn’t seen her daddy so recharged in ages. Jesse ends the night digging in his deep pockets for something that ends up being a guitar pick.

“I-it’s my d-daddy’s, sir,” he stammers as he puts it in Donna’s father’s weather palm, “wish he were here to swap stories but I-I-I thought maybe you’d like it. Till you can m-meet him.”

Her daddy takes it gratefully and thumbs over it with a fondness Jesse has seen a lot of folks show for the man he knows too well and they love more than seems possible for strangers. It never fails to humble him and reignite some apprecIation of his own for Elvis’ warmth that’s made it all the way into the heart of a middle aged vet from Waxahachie Texas.

“I’d sure like to meet the man someday.” Her daddy admits. “And thank ya for dinner, young Presley.”

“I hope you will meet him, I think ya will.” Jesse stammers and can’t bear to meet Donna’s surprised gaze, “We owe your Donna a heap, sir. Mama is about ready to come down here and eat her up she’s so grateful. And I uh, I intend to not lose touch.” he mutters the last bit and it makes Donna feel close to faint with hope that her father misheard as they go on to talk about how the press has treated Elaine Presley and eventually say their good nights. Jesse won’t meet her eye, just tucks her into his armpit like her short height mandates for a hug and says goodnight. After the heat of last night she thinks she’ll waste away from such propriety.

As she gets in the car to drive her dad home, working the shift, a bright light slices across their windshield and after the sparks clear from Donna’s dazzled eyes she realizes someone, probably with a professional grade flash, just snapped a photo of them. They’re ordinary people who had barbeque with the kids of a famous man and now they’re being stalked. It’s not fair to them or the Presley’s and her dad rages against the unfairness of it and how nice those kids were all the way back to his place. It keeps Donna from crying over the notion that Jesse went through all those motions this morning to make her think he liked her more than just a lay, and now it’s a sideways hug and a terse “goodnight.”

Jesse’s heart hurts as he drives the girls back to the center in Rosalee’s car, smiling softly as he listens to their protests against his ratty motel and noticing the car behind trailing their every turn. He knew that the rehabilitation was wrapping up and he knew they were getting sloppy at laying low. There’s been a countdown in his head that’s kept him going, after all, and they’re so close now to the finish line that he had burned out and fallen into Donna’s arms for the last leg. The fact it is the last leg makes him jittery with a thousand thoughts at once. The chief one is how unfair it all is.

For her mainly.

But if there’s one thing Donna taught him last night, it was to take a little time to hurt for himself. By the time he sneaks Daisy back into the Center under a cloak of darkness and drives Rosalee to a hotel fit for housing a nice girl like his sister is, his heart just about wants to burst with hurt. He sends Rosalee up to her room with a kiss to the forehead and plans to have her car back in time for her to drive back tomorrow. He goes cback out to the parking lot and making a beeline for the beater Mercedes’ parked three rows down from his ride. He raps on the window and it doesn’t even take the gun in his boot to freak the unexpecting and nosy little bastard in the driver seat.

“Hey, brother.” Jesse greets as the guy actually rolls the window down in his panic on being confronted, “You like my route?” he asks congenially but there’s an edge to his voice that isn’t false bravado, “I noticed ya liked the barbecue, too. Wanna come up to my room and watch me sleep? Or were you gonna wait till I leave and try that with my sister? Hmm?”

The guy, like most guys in the nation, knows what Jesse did to the last fella who tried something with Rosalee, how his brother Jack and his friend Sam and the whole of Sam’s squad from the Memphis police just sipped bourbon while Jesse drug the fucker by the balls down S. Riverside Dr. It makes the smirking boy at his window a lot more imposing than his decent stature, hippy length hair and strong hands seem on first impression. “N-no man I’m here- I’m here to- uh-“

“Just hand me the damn film rolls and we’ll part ways, ok?” Jesse holds out his hand expectantly and the guy hesitates a bit. Sighing heavily, Jesse reaches into his back pocket for the persuasive shit and he can see the man’s panic show in his eyes again as Jesse reaches, only for it to be replaced by confusion as he’s presented with a badge of sorts. “This here badge was given to me by President Nixon himself, alright? Back when he asked to meet my daddy in the Oval Office, and he gave me this badge and it’s got the authority to demand such private property as photographs of my face and my sisters’ faces, ya understand? I wouldn’t wanna get you into trouble none by writing a damn reportc a. Just -hand ‘em over, k?”

The guy still hesitates, doubtful he’ll get off so easily and wary to give in and still get his ass handed to him. To be perfectly honest he doesn’t care much about some badge that some impeached President gave a rockstar’s fifteen year old kid . “Really, dude, I’m just here to meet a-“

“You really wanna see what my daddy gave me for my birthday last year?” Jesse asks with burdened patience and somehow, without it even being said, the man knows that birthday gift was a gun. Elvis Presley has been downright insane for some time now, it just fits. Jesse Presley, lanky frame bent to wedge into his low window like a looming specter in the dark doesn't look much more stable. He fumbles in the passenger seat and grabs the priceless rolls containing an excellent shot of that girl he’s been hanging out with, in her car with her dad as she pulls out of the barbecue place. It hurts the guy deeply to watch them go but he comforts himself with the thought of all the earlier snaps he’d managed to drop at the publishers earlier.

“Here, Jeeze.” the guy plops them in Jesse’s large palm and Jesse’s fingers curl over them elegantly while his pointer finger beckons still.

“Gimme the one in the camera, c’mon now. I’m not stupid.”

“You can’t shoot me-“

“No, I can do way worse, believe me. The roll, give it here!” Jesse’s ringed fingers make a gimme-gimme motion and the guy notices that those rings would make a mean and gaudy sort of brass knuckle if tested. His nose hurts at just the thought.

He hands over his camera and despite expecting the kid to drop the precious thing and stomp on it or something, all Jesse does is pop the lid and take out the roll. Adding it to the others in his back pocket along with that stupid and sentimental badge that belongs in an era back when his famous daddy still had the nation’s respect.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Jesse murmurs as he hands back the neutered camera, “and I hope you understand that if I ever catch you at this again, for myself or my friends, you’re gonna have more audits and subpoenas than you do donuts in that gut. Am I understood? I’ll bury your ass.”

It’s freaky getting threatened so effectively by a teenager. Like he’s old inside and knows that paperwork is scarier than a knife when you’re tired and broke. Most of these Presley’s belong in the loony bin or the MET, with Elaine Presley being the latter and the rest of her family the former. Either way, all of them need to be under lock and key, except they're too rich for that. And they’re certainly rich enough to make the guy’s

I life a living hell. Or very rich if he were to sell pictures of Jesse Presley necking a rehab nurse on his bike.

“Yeah ok, can I go?” the guy asks, exasperated.

“By all means, get the hell away from my family!” Jesse smiles and backs away, patting at the back of the guy’s car in farewell before the man hears a screeching sound of metal ripping off.

He frantically looks behind him only to find Jesse innocuously sauntering back to his bike in the dark parking lot. Suspicious of what the kid did, and suspecting a poked tire but too scared to get out and investigate while he’s still on the prowl, the guy waits and watches as the kid’s bike revs to life. Sure enough Presley steers the thing right past his window while waving the guy’s license plate like a giant metal envelope in his hand.

“Have fun without this, man, lotta bored cops on the lookout tonight!”

Feeling very good and very angry, Jesse waits at the red light, full aware the guy is watching him and when the fucker doenst get the hint to leave the parking lot ahead of him, Jesse revs his motor and bekons the guy over like a gentlman ushering a lady through the door first. Exhaust fumes have never smelt so sweet to him as he takes a turn trailing the guy until he’s well out of Dallas and nearing Arlington, well away from Daisy and Rosalee.

And Donna. Jesse’s blood boils and the hot summer air clings to his neck as he peels off into the dark of night and heads back to his motel with its greasy bedspread and its mildew shower where he’s gunked up the drain with his fervor for her large lips and sweet eyes and eyebrows that are like busy caterpillars dancing across her forehead. He wants her so badly it’s painful and now he knows what it’s like to be with her and held by her and accepted so readily, so selflessly, so sweetly -it’s worse than before. He can’t even bear to think of settling for shower steam and his fist. He falls into bed and rolls onto his belly, pulling open the bedside drawer before placing the license plate next to the complementary motel Bible. It makes him smile, Donna’s got a phone and he’s got a license plate. He keeps staring at his tin trophy knowing fully well tonight’s slumber is merely metaphorical. He’ll not be sleeping a wink.

He’ll be thinking of her. And how he’s gotta be a bastard for a little longer to keep her safe. And how mama’s about to have a baby and daddy’s about to remarry her and Rosalee just started to sleep herself after the attack and how Daisy will be out and testing herself and how John will be coming home to Ella and their baby and -he really outta visit Ella while he’s here in Texas. And while she’s got Marie staying with her. Marie could use to see another face. There’s so much ahead and none of it needs to involve Jesse fending off reporters so he can go make professions of premature love to a little Texan with a penchant for his pancakes and clitoris nibbles.

Like the planner his mama taught him to be, he steadies himself with a hand to the bridge of his nose and lines all these frantic responsibilities into a tidy row. And to the side are his wants. For a few years now those have gotten a little dusty and he doesn’t begrudge that, not really. But right now he makes another column to this mental checklist.

His needs.

Which comprise Donna and more Donna and Donna forever. It’s so simple, the roses ahead that may take years but it is simple nonetheless.

Go get the girl, that’s what they all say. Daddy had done just that.

Jesse thinks about that phone he got her this afternoon, assuming she’s hauled it out of the trunk by now. He’s already arranged for someone to hook it up by next weekend.

Step one accomplished. He wants to laugh at his own impatience. Step one, already done. Before the end of the week he can be calling her and she’ll be wrapping her fingers around the phone like he wishes she would somewhere else and he can make comments about how nice the barbecue was and she can ask about Daisy’s progress once released.

And they can keep that up. Till he finds a time to marry her. Hopefully not in some red letter year that involves his parents remarrying or making a surprise child.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

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