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2knightt · 2 months ago

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— YOU SHOWED ME LOVE .

—IN WHICH, the greasers realize they’re truly, and honestly, in love.

tags/warnings: gn!reader possible OOC, story-focused rather than comedic headcanons, fluff and nothing else(lie), comforting steve, swearing, soda’s part is rushed cuz i ran out of ideas.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ wow shocker i leave for awhile and come back with a new theme. anyways, hi angels! i love you all sm and i forgot how much i loved being here🥹..! i missed u guys so much!

—

Johnny Cade

cars zoomed by the lot at concerning speeds, the sound of wind being broken up by the obnoxious cop sirens or a drunkard yelling down the street.

though, to you and johnny, all of that fell to deaf ears. it was like the world didn’t matter to you—as long as johnny sat beside you.

the stars seemed to only shine above you two, twinkling and gleaming in ways that you’d never seen before. the moon was your sunlight, with johnny giving you the warmth.

his head rested on top of yours that was against his shoulder, his arm draped loosely around your waist. your thigh was pressed against his, making him more than a little nervous.

sitting in the lot with you made him nervous, despite you and him dating for a long while now. you made him..giddy. that’s the word.

you made him feel like a child again; the child he never got to be.

johnny had his head tilted upward toward the stars and the sky, matching what you were doing so he didn’t look like a clueless idiot.

your hand left your lap, your eyes flickering downward for just a moment that went unnoticed to johnny. you gently grabbed his scarred hand, holding his hand in yours. you held him like he was glass.

johnny felt his face get hot. like, really hot. you were so gentle with him, the type of gentle that he had never been treated with.

he looked down at you, your head still on his shoulder. your hair was so shiny, you were so beautiful and such a perfect fit for him with the way your body mended with his in a time like this.

perfect.

his lips were quickly pressed against the crown of your head, pulling away before he got too nervous to talk.

“i love you, y’know.”

Dallas Winston

“you’ll be fine.”

“i feel like ‘m bleedin’ out.”

dallas complained as he sat on your couch, his legs spread so that you could properly stand between them. you continued to dab the wet cloth against his cheek to get the dried blood off.

there seemed to be just as much of dried blood as there was fresh, his arms and hands coverer in gauze and bandaids.

you gently held his chin to turn his head every which way you needed, because he allowed you to. he liked you so much, he allowed you to move him around like a doll.

though, he liked slyvia a lot, too and she couldn’t do stuff like that. stuff like this with slyvia was weird, even if he did like her.

so, why was it different with you? what made you, of all people, so special?

his eyes were locked onto yours, taking extra note to how focused you look on cleaning his face up. you were pretty. like, real pretty.

dallas was quick to avert his eyes when he realized just how sappy his internal monologue sounded.

“what?”

you asked, taking note to how hyper-aware dallas suddenly looked. his jaw was clenched slightly as he seemingly refused to look at you.

how you always knew when something was up with him, he may never know.

“nothin’. the cuts jus’ hurt,”

he lied right out of his teeth.

dallas’ eyes met yours once more, trying to act tough once again. he asked himself once more, what made you so different?

“are you sure?”

you dropped the wet cloth slightly, the rag no longer against his cheek. you looked worried, and you sounded just as nervous.

you cared.

you cared for dallas winston. that’s what made you different.

dallas knew you were different from his other flings.

he liked his other flings. he loved you. he loved that you cared for him, genuinely.

he extended his hands out, grabbing your waist to pull you closer with a firm tug, your knee supporting you up as it was pressed against the edge of the couch.

“oh, ‘m real sure, pretty.”

“dally, please.”

“please, what?”

“don’t start with me now, winston.”

Ponyboy Curtis

you were golden.

completely and utterly golden. the sunset reflected off your skin like you were an angel, your eyes shimmering like the stars above, the flush across your face making you look beyond innocent.

ponyboy was the one to drag you out into the cold oklahoma winter in the first place. he just wanted to watch the sunset with you, the person he liked.

he protested against your arguments of, ‘it’s so cold out, though! it’s so warm inside, pony. don’t make me go out there!’ with, ‘it’s just a sunset. it’ll be for a few minutes! i jus’ wanna watch it with you. please, y/n?’

‘watch the sunset,’ his ass. he looked at the setting sun maybe twice in the span of 3 minutes. you were too beautiful to not look at.

of course, and thankfully, you were oblivious to his staring.

“it’s really pretty,”

you muttered. your eyes were locked onto the horizon, and his were locked onto his future.

his future.

the more he thought about it, he really liked you. like, to the point where whenever he envisioned a mile stone in his life, you were always there.

when he imagined graduating, you’d be there. when he imagined going to college, you’d be there. when he imagined getting married, you’d be standing at the alter with him.

he loved his future.

he loved you.

“real pretty.”

ponyboy agreed, but for a different reason.

Sodapop Curtis

the moonlight seeped through the curtains of his room, illuminating the lines that it managed to sneak it’s way through. the midnight sky was bright, yet the moon seemed to be the only focus for the stars.

soda held you in his arms loosely, your head resting gently on his chest. he traced imaginary shapes on the lower part of your back.

the sound of his fan whirling rang out through his room, your breathing falling into a rhythm as you drifted off to sleep.

soda always seemed to notice when you were about to fall asleep, and you didn’t know how he did. you were starting to suspect he might be a wizard.

he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

his life was hectic. it really was. he was a dropout who works a full time job to help his older brother keep a roof over their head, and he worked as a middle man in arguments.

but you, you were a breath of fresh air.

he needed you like he needed water.

he needs you.

he loves needing something, and he loves needing you.

he loves you. soda loves you so, so, so much.

“good night, baby. i love you.”

Darry Curtis

“oh, y/n,”

darry sighed as he entered the kitchen. the smell of freshly cooked dinner wafted through the air, leaving a comforting taste in everyone’s mouth.

he walked up behind you, your back turned to him as your focus was on scrubbing the last bit of dishes. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling himself closer to you as if he needed to be as close as possible.

he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes looking down at your hands in the sink. you turned your head to look back at him, your faces a mere centimetres away.

you couldn’t necessarily help the smile that tugged on the corners of your lips at seeing darry look so grateful.

darry was a busy, hardworking man. that's who he was, and who he will always be as long as he lives. he provides with no one to provide for him.

until you came into the photo.

darry was cooking dinner out of fear that soda'd burn the roasted potatoes he said he'd make, and ponyboy was just..not that good with anything other than eggs.

he was cooking, cleaning, and working. he had no time to himself, it seemed. but you, the angel you are, takes it off his hands. maybe it was to just have him all to yourself after work, he didn’t care.

you were the angel that he prayed for day and night.

and god knows how darry loves angels.

you ruffed his hair, not bothering to dry off the water that stuck to your skin. darry chuckled, lightly shaking his head in a poor attempt to dry his loose curls.

in his own retaliation, he pulls you impossibly close, attacking your face with as many kisses he could. giggles filled the room as you attempted to push yourself away from him, only for his grip to tighten.

he pulled away at his expense, pressing one last kiss on the crown of your head.

“love you, doll. i really do,”

Steve Randle

“you’re always welcomed here, steve. you know that,”

you lightly scolded him as he sat on the edge of your bed. he’d been couch hopping before he came to you, a broken and embarrassed man.

you were rummaging around in your closest for another old blanket he could use, since from prior experience, you learned that steve has a tendency to hog the blanket you two shared.

“i know, i know.”

he begrudgingly grumbled, hurriedly avoiding eye contact with you with his head down, looking at his hands on his lap.

you looked over your shoulder, seeing just how embarrassed he looked asking for help tugged on your heart strings a little.

steve was never one to ask for help, no. he thought he was too prideful, too good, for help. he thought that he was superman with the way he thought he could help himself 24/7.

you sighed, taking a few steps toward him. you squatted down in front of him, lightly grabbing his hand and holding in it yours. he finally looked back at you with lowered brows, his eyes making him look way more innocent than he actually is.

“i hope you aren’t lying to me.”

“what?”

“do you actually know that i’m always here for you, or are you sayin’ that to shut me up?”

you questioned, allowing yourself to be straightforward since it seemed like that was the only language he knew.

steve shifted his eyes away from yours for a moment, a small huff leaving his lips.

“maybe.”

“steve,”

you started, the disappointment emanate in your tone. you stood up, letting go of his rough hand to cup his face. you forced him to look back at you.

“you know you aren’t ever a burden. i love having you around. i love you, okay? i wouldn’t ever push you away.”

you stated in the most soothing voice you could muster, looking him right in the eyes to really drive your point forward.

steve took awhile to react. he just looked back at you, letting your words process in his head. after a moment, he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you close.

he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his breaths coming out shaky as he tried to calm himself.

he loved home, he really did.

and, look, steve isn’t stupid. he’s heard and understood the saying that, ‘home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.’ but he always thought it was stupid.

how do you feel at home?

well, now he gets it.

with you in his arms, you comforting him and talking to him like he was a human, and he’s never felt more at home.

and holy shit, he loves this feeling.

“love you. love you so, so, so much.”

Two-Bit Mathews

laughter rang out through your empty living room, the television being completely drowned out.

you gasped for more air as you and two-bit laughed at an inside joke that seemed to only make sense to you two. you hand your hand on his shoulder, the other on your stomach. two-bit was leaning toward you unconsciously.

“holy hell, two-bit! that’s so messed up!”

you feigned innocence, pretending like you didn’t play into the jokes that slipped off his tongue.

“well, shit! then i guess we’re both messed up since you were jus’ talkin’ about-“

“hey, wait!”

you were quick to cut him off, leaning toward him to cover his mouth with your hand.

“don’t go snitchin’ on me!”

two-bit snickered to the best of his ability, grabbing your wrist lightly to pull you toward him closer. you stumbled toward him, two-bit catching you by putting his hands firmly on your hips.

looking back at you with a sloppy smile across your face, your eyes having a certain mischievous shine to them made it hard for two-bit to look away.

you were so beautiful when you were happy. you were always beautiful.

how someone like you was able to understand his type of humour is beyond him. he just knows that he’s lucky, and that he’d be a fool to let you slip through his fingers.

he didn’t want to lose this moment, ever.

he loved moments like this.

though, he only ever experienced these moments with you. so, is it weird to say that he only loves moments that involve you? does that mean something?

does he love you?

yes, yes he does.

he’d let the whole world know that, too.

“god, i love you, pretty.”

#2knightt #i make myself giggle #I FUCKING HATE TUMBLR #I WROTE OUT SODA’S WHOLE PART AND IT DIDN’T SAVE #LIKE ONG #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit x reader

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avcdgrdn · 5 months ago

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── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part three ]

[ part one & part two ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1765

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

he was so obviously staring at you.

it was a crisp fall morning, and a light sweat formed on your brow as you swept the floor by the front desk. you’d been at it for a while, and about halfway through, stan had meandered down the stairs and happened to see you. presently, he was casually leaning against the wall, and you could feel his eyes on your back.

there were moments where you’d turn your head in his direction, and he would jolt and quickly look the other way. you rolled your eyes amusedly, wondering what he could be thinking of.

after a moment of thought, you spoke up, your gaze still focused on the broom in your hands. “so, whatcha doin’, stan?”

there was nobody else in the lobby, so he didn’t really have a good excuse to pull out of his back pocket. he looked up, drumming his fingers against the wall. “uhhh … nothin’. what’s it to ya?”

“you know, you can come closer if you want to.” you shook your head, chuckling. the broad-built man sighed in defeat, pushing himself off of the wall and walking over to lean against the front desk instead.

as you continued to sweep, he pursed his lips, fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt. “hey, uh. i been thinkin’.”

you gave him a glance over your shoulder. “yeah?”

one of his hands wandered up to his shaggy mullet, tugging absentmindedly at chocolate brown hairs. “well, i’ve been stayin’ with you for a few days now … and i really appreciate your help. i … i’m still tryin’ ta think of ways to make a buck, but … a–anyway, what’s i’m saying is—”

he stammered, blushing faintly as he averted his gaze. it was frustratingly difficult to be so open and honest.

“ … is–is there any way i could help you out? since i’m not payin’ at all …”

you straightened, turning to fully face him. his desire to settle his debt was endearing, but you knew in your heart that he really didn’t owe you anything. you wanted him to have someone to watch out for him, someone to care about him.

someone to … love him.

“i really appreciate it, but it’s okay.” you grinned, warm with compassion.

stan blinked, and he suddenly found that his heart was aching in his chest again. just as it had at the diner, as it had when he took that key from your hand …

his square jaw clenched shut as your genuine empathy pierced into him like daggers.

“please.”

he almost sounded desperate.

“i, uh. i just don’t like ta feel useless.”

after studying his expression for a moment, your smile softened.

“okay.” swiftly, you extended the broom towards him, raising your brows. “wanna finish sweeping in the lobby? i can start on the dusting.”

immediately, he lit up. “alright, angel. i’ll sweep this place so good, you’d never guess that anyone’s set foot in it.”

taking hold of the broomstick, the brunet got to work, happily gathering dust bunnies, crumbs, and random bits of trash that various customers had left behind. you rummaged around in the supply closet for the duster, pulling it out and starting to clean up different decorative objects and shelftops.

the soft music emanating from the record player served to create a peaceful atmosphere. occasionally, one or two patrons would pass through, but for the most part, it was quiet.

after you’d taken care of all the dusty surfaces in the room, you put the duster away, lighting a pumpkin spice scented candle and carefully placing it on a table in the center of the lobby.

“hmm ... wow, that’s nice.” stan hummed, clearly affected by the calming aroma.

“i know, right? i love having this scent in the fall–”

you stopped abruptly upon seeing the perfectly clean floors. it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, and yet all of it was spotless.

“wow, stan, you made quick work of that! good job!”

stanley puffed out his chest, clearly smug and quite proud of himself, like a small child showing you a drawing they had worked hard on. “i told you. ain’t i helpful?”

“you’re a huge help, thank you.”

he hadn’t been praised like this in so long. he was practically glowing at this point.

“so, er … what else can i help ya with?” he stepped closer to you, hands on his hips.

you racked your brain in an attempt to think of what else needed to get done around the inn. “oh, i know. a shipment arrived for us earlier today, but they’re both heavy boxes that i can’t quite move on my own. would you w–”

“I’M ON IT! lead the way, sweetheart!”

“o–okay–” you led him around to the back to collect the packages, trying so hard not to let his pet names affect you. nonetheless, you were blushing like an idiot.

next thing you knew, you were watching him carry two heavy boxes with ease, one on each arm. he had rolled up his jacket sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.

… it’s fall, right? it’s not supposed to be this hot in here.

“where to, toots?” he grunted, arching a brow.

“uh … the storage room. this way.” you were avoiding eye contact as much as possible. everything about this guy was attractive right now.

oh God, don’t let me die yet…

after the contents of the boxes were successfully unloaded and put away, the two of you sat at the kitchen bar, helping yourselves to the lunch that your chef had made. stan ate enthusiastically, probably in the best mood that you’d ever seen him in. why that was, exactly, you weren’t sure—you were too overwhelmed to figure it out. there was just something about the way he looked at you that was making you silently freak out.

i know that he’s been calling me names even since we first met. it seems like it’s just a thing that he does with everyone … but lately, they really don’t feel like just names.

i don’t know. am i going crazy? i might be. and yet …

chewing on a mouthful of rice, you snuck a sideways peek at the man beside you, admiring his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. that is, until he caught you looking, and you nearly choked on your food.

“what? ‘s there somethin’ on my face?” he chuckled, his tone taunting.

“i, uh, i thought there might’ve been–but you’re fine. no worries.” bullcrap.

“hah, whatever you say.”

you continued to eat in silence. your fork was slipping in your hand.

just great. my palms are sweating.

this … hasn’t happened to you since high school. butterflies and blushing suddenly clouded your brain whenever he was close to you. how did it even start? he just walked into your life, and …

you were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t process stan calling your name for the third time in a row. it wasn’t until he put his hand on your shoulder that you snapped out of it.

“gh– huh?” your face was redder than a cherry tomato.

“hey, you alright? yer actin’ all spacey.” he was evidently concerned this time. “how many fingers am i holdin’ up?”

“f–four.” you exhaled, rubbing your temples with one hand. “i’m fine, just lost in thought, is all. thanks, stan.” you offered a small smile as you fought the raging butterflies in your stomach.

stan nodded in understanding, gently taking his hand off your shoulder.

“okay, just lemme know if you need anything.”

with that, he took care of his plate, rinsing it off in the sink before making his way up to his room. your chef walked into the kitchen, shooting you a look as you handed him your half-full plate.

“sorry, i don’t think i can eat any more. i’m feeling … nauseous.”

it was around six o’clock in the evening now, and you sat up in your personal living room on the very top floor of the inn, falling deeper and deeper into your thoughts.

do i … really like him that much?

am i in love?

you tangled your fingers into your hair, hunching over slightly.

but … so quickly? i’ve only known him for a number of days. is that a thing that happens!?

what if he doesn’t like me back? what if he flirts with everyone? what if he thinks i’m weird for liking him? does he know i like him?

just then, you heard a knocking on your door.

oh.

heart thudding violently in your chest, you swallowed your anxiety, standing up from your sofa to find out who it could be. you turned the doorknob, letting it swing open.

the first thing you saw was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips.

your gaze trailed up to find stanley’s broad figure, dressed in slacks and a flattering button-up top. he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, although a few stray hairs remained out of place.

his brown eyes met your own, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“hey. listen, uh … these are for you, first of all.” he handed the bouquet to you, which you mindlessly accepted, being unable to look away from his face.

“i … wanted t’ properly say thank you. lettin’ me stay here has helped me get my mind right ‘nd allowed me to think about the important things.”

he took a breath.

“and, well … i figured out that you’re real important to me. so. i–i was wonderin’ if you’d wanna grab dinner tonight?”

“… dinner?”

“y–yeah, like a date–”

your cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, matching the tulips you held in your arms.

stan tripped over his words, staring at the floor. “and i, uh—i understand if you’re not interested–”

“no! i mean, yes! yes, i’m–i’m very interested.” you rushed to answer him, not fully realizing that a gleeful smile had broken out onto your expression. “i just … wow …”

he laughed, beaming with joy as he realized that the answer was yes. “oh, damn, i didn’t actually expect to get this far…!” gently, he scooped you into a snug embrace, lifting you off of your feet slightly. “thank you, angel.”

“... anything for you.” you murmured in reply, hugging him back for a sweet moment before the two of you stepped apart. “let me just get ready, then.”

“sounds good, doll. i’ll be waitin’ downstairs.”

and just like that, the door was shut, and you were left to stare at the red tulips in your hands.

end

[ part four ]

author's note:

screaming into a pillow kicking my feet giggling

i wrote this one so fast somehow ??? i had a vision

if you wanna be added to the tag list for updates, lmk!

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002 @samanthastarss @bumblingbriars @arya-eats-chips @bihexualandferal @hello-i-like-owls @blurryface505 @ryethebrokengae

#breaking news: homeless man knows how to clean UPPPP 😝#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fic #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #mullet stan #mullet stanley #sfw #fluff #hurt/comfort #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #part three #avcdgrdn fic #mullet stan x reader

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punkshort · 1 year ago

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weekend getaway

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: Joel whisks you away for a surprise Valentine's Day weekend.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, fingering, size kink (maybe? Idk it's mentioned), soft!joel, some very mild allusions to pregnancy, oral (m receiving), panty ripping, cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type couple so don't look at me

WC: 9.2K

Series Masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

tagging @morallyinept for your V-Day list consideration

"Any big plans for Valentine's Day?" your project supervisor, Kelly, asked over your Zoom call. You glanced at the clock on your wall - 4:30. Why did she always feel the need to ask questions and prolong a meeting right at the end of the day? And on a Friday, no less.

You anxiously jiggled your foot under your desk as you listened to the rest of the group detail their weekend plans with loved ones. When it was your turn, you tapped your spacebar to unmute.

"I'm going to dinner with my boyfriend and his daughter tonight," you said quickly, wanting the meeting to end so you could go get ready. As if on cue, you heard a key sliding into your front door and Joel stepped through, shooting you a cheesy grin. He was about to walk over and give you a kiss, but you held your hand up and discreetly pointed to your monitor, indicating you were still on a video call.

He nodded and instead went into your kitchen and opened up the fridge. You frowned when you realized he was still in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Why aren't you dressed? Where's Sarah?" you asked when he got a little closer, ignoring your co-worker who was rambling on about her weekend plans.

He just shrugged and winked before heading to your couch, not saying a word.

Your call went on for another fifteen minutes while you stared at the back of Joel's head as he flicked through the channels on your TV. What was going on?

"Are we not doing dinner tonight?" you asked as you slid your headset off and powered down your computer.

"We are, but it'll have to be on the road," he said casually, barely glancing backwards over the couch.

"The road?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side as you came over to stand next to the couch. He nodded and turned off the TV to finally look at you with a flicker of playfulness in his eyes.

"I'm takin' you away for the weekend," he said, grinning when your face lit up.

"What?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "I thought-"

"It was just to throw you off, I never made plans for dinner tonight. Tommy's watchin' Sarah all weekend, so it's just me and you," he said, pushing himself off the couch so he could wrap his arms around you. You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips over his softly as your arms snaked around his waist.

"I like the sound of that," you murmured, giving him another kiss and feeling his facial hair tickle your cheek when his lips turned up into a smirk.

"Better go pack a bag," he said, pulling away and tapping your ass, urging you towards your bedroom. You let out a squeak of excitement as you trotted into your room and grabbing a duffel bag, you began to pack your toiletries.

"Bring a dress," he said, leaning against your doorframe, watching you maneuver in and out of your bathroom, your hands filled.

"What kind of dress?" you asked.

"The red one. The one you wore to Sarah's recital."

"That one? But I have so many I haven't even worn yet," you said, scrunching your nose as you came back into the room, heading towards your closet.

"Yeah, but I really like that one," he said, coming up behind you, his hand finding a home on your hip as you shuffled through your clothes. You found it pushed to the back of your closet and pulled the dress out, showing it to him with your eyebrow raised and he nodded his approval.

"What else do you want me to wear?" you asked him.

"You know if it were up to me, it would be nothin'," he teased, and you giggled.

"Well, I hope you can make an exception, otherwise you're going to hate your Valentine's gift."

He groaned and felt himself stir below his waist when he realized what you meant.

"Hurry up and pack. We got a two hour drive and if you keep talkin' like that, we ain't gonna make it," he said, sauntering out of your bedroom, shaking his head.

You had been to Houston a few times in the past, but only ever with your family for shopping trips or to visit your aunt and uncle who lived out that way. But visiting the city with Joel felt like you were seeing it for the very first time. He always had a way of making something ordinary feel special.

Joel had booked two nights at The Houstonian Hotel, and when you first walked into the lobby, your jaw dropped. It was absolutely stunning and unlike any hotel you've ever stayed in before. The floors appeared to be all original hardwood, and the walls were designed to match: a dark paneling with a delicate wainscotting decorating the wood from floor to ceiling. Joel led you towards the front desk to check in, but your eyes were glued to the massive stone fireplace in the center of the room surrounded by cozy looking couches and chairs in front of the roaring fire. Your head tilted up to admire the exposed wooden beams and sparkling chandeliers when Joel got your attention.

"Did you want access to the gym or tennis court?" he asked again, pleased at how impressed you seemed to be with the hotel he chose.

"Huh? Oh, no thank you," you said, shaking your head and giving the man behind the front desk a smile.

"Joel, this place is incredible," you whispered, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you waited for the elevator. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble. I would have slept in your truck if it meant I got to spend time with you."

He grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"Yeah, but my truck doesn't have a hot tub or enormous bathtub, and I intend on getting you in both before the weekend's through."

You felt your cheeks warm as you giggled, glancing up at the numbers above the door, eager to see your room.

"Oh my god, this place is so beautiful," you exclaimed when Joel swung open the door to your room and ushered you inside. The wallpaper was patterned with broad vertical stripes in a shimmery silver color that matched the comforter and sheets on the king sized bed in the middle of the room, with pink and red rose petals scattered across the fabric. Opposite the bed was a flat screen TV mounted to the wall with a small chest of drawers right below and a dozen perfect, red roses in a vase on top. You were about to hurry over to the window and check out the view when Joel flicked the lights on in the bathroom, catching your attention and making you gasp.

The room was huge. There was the enormous, freestanding bathtub Joel promised, right in front of a floor length tinted window. Next to the tub was a spacious shower encased in glass, and behind you were two sinks and a mirror almost as big as the wall.

"Wow," was all you could say, your eyes still taking in the room, noticing a pink orchid on the sink and fern in the corner for the first time.

"You like it?" he asked softly, watching you closely. You swiveled around to look at him, your eyes still wide with shock.

"I love it," you said, still a little breathless. He grinned and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you.

"Good. Wanted to make our first Valentine's Day special," he murmured before leaning down slightly to press his lips gently against yours.

"Well, you succeeded because I don't think I want to leave this room all weekend," you whispered, bringing your hands up to grip the sides of his head for another kiss.

"Don't tempt me. I'll cancel the dinner reservation I made for tomorrow without thinkin' twice," he said, grinning against your mouth as you continued to pepper his face with kisses.

"So you're saying we don't have any plans tonight?" you asked suggestively, dragging your mouth down his prickly jaw, biting at his skin lightly as you went. His grip around you tightened.

"Just thought we could relax, knew we'd be gettin' in kinda late," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut when your mouth made its way to his neck, never growing tired of the way you made him feel.

"I know a great way to relax," you replied, your fingers inching up his chest as you continued to suck and bite your way down the column of his throat. You could feel his exhale tickling the top of your head, his breath quickening as your hands dropped down under the hem of his shirt. "Why don't we take that bath you mentioned?"

"Yes," he whispered, eyes still closed and leaning into your touch.

"Tell you what," you sighed, your mouth barely leaving his skin. "You go check in with Sarah, and I'll get the tub ready."

"Okay," he said softly as if he were in a trance. Nobody has ever made him weak in the knees the way you do, and he loved it.

Leaving Joel in the bedroom to call Sarah, you turned the water on, dipping your fingers under the stream until you found the perfect temperature, then turned your attention to the amenities that were left on the sink. Picking up each little bottle, you read the descriptions until you found bubble bath. Twisting open the cap, you sniffed the pleasant floral scent before dumping it into the water and swirling it around, trying to encourage the bubbles to form. Once you thought there was enough water, you turned off the faucet, allowing you to hear the end of Joel's conversation in the next room. You thought you heard him asking Sarah about an action movie you assumed she and Tommy were watching as you stripped down and slipped into the water, leaning back against the side and closing your eyes with a heavy sigh. The warmth combined with the heavenly scent soothed your muscles almost immediately.

This was absolutely perfect. You were constantly amazed by the way Joel treated you, but this weekend might take the cake.

You heard a noise so you opened your eyes, then grinned when you found Joel leaning up against the doorframe, gazing at you from across the room.

"Sorry, I got started without you," you teased, and although the bubbles hid your body from the neck down, the way he looked at you made you feel like he could see everything.

"This's gotta be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, still standing in the doorway. Then his eyes lit up when an idea occurred to him. "Can I take a picture?"

"What?" you giggled, taken aback by his request.

"You can't see anythin'," he assured you, stepping into the room. "I just wanna remember you exactly the way you are, right now."

"Okay..." you agreed hesitantly, watching as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then looked up to give him a smile. He clicked his tongue and lowered the phone a bit so he could look at you.

"I want a real smile," he said, and you snorted.

"That is my real smile."

"Nah, that's your polite smile. I want the real thing," he told you. You gave him your polite smile again, but this time he kept his phone up, knowing how to draw out what he was looking for.

"I love you, baby."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks and your smile stretch wide across your face. Your eyes shyly dropped down to look at the water and then you heard the shutter click on his phone.

"That's the one," he said proudly, looking at it quickly before setting his phone on the sink.

"Good. Now get in here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, and hastily undid his belt, watching greedily as he peeled off his clothes, one by one. You noticed with pride he was already having a reaction to you and he hadn't even seen you naked yet.

He stepped into the water with a hiss, then slipped his whole body underneath the bubbles, resting against the other end of the tub with a smile.

"Feels good," he mumbled.

"Not too girly?" you asked, scooting forward and scooping up some bubbles with your hands, then reached out to rub them into his beard, making him chuckle.

"Not at all," he said, still smiling as the bubbles you planted on his cheeks began to drip down into the water. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before he spread his legs under the water and beckoned you forward with his hands.

"C'mere."

You nimbly turned around so you were facing the same direction, then leaned back, resting flat against his chest. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently and then slid down your arms, dipping below the water. You hummed and rested the back of your head against his shoulder. His fingers danced across your skin underneath the bubbles, calloused palms dragging over your soft stomach slowly, and by now, the evidence of his arousal was pressing firmly into your lower back.

"You're so beautiful, d'you know that?" he whispered in your ear. His knees tucked underneath your legs, parting them and spreading them wide, holding them open underneath the water. Your pulse began to thrum faster when you realized what he was doing.

"Relax," he reminded you, feeling you tense up as his hand drifted further down. You exhaled shakily and closed your eyes, letting your muscles go lax as his hands massaged your hips, slowly making their way between your legs.

You gasped softly when two of his fingers found your clit. He began to draw slow, deliberate circles while his other hand snuck up and massaged your breast. His mouth left kisses all down the side of your neck as his fingers steadily worked just below the surface, building you up slowly in only the way he knew how.

"I love you," you whispered, eyes still closed but brows pinched and jaw slack as your breathing began to devolve into short pants. You were fairly certain you repeated it a number of times, I love you, I love you, but you were too lost, his fingers knowing what you needed better than your own ever could.

He might have said it back, you couldn't remember. His fingers picked up the pace between your legs while his other hand rolled your nipple expertly between his thumb and forefinger, and you found yourself gripping the side of the tub frantically as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, blinding you and making you see stars somehow at the same time.

"So pretty... that's my girl... love how you say my name when you come," he mumbled.

You didn't even realize you were saying it, but you believed him.

"Oh, my god," you gasped, finally opening your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers slowed, then stilled, then gently pulled away, causing you to shudder, even though you were surrounded by so much warmth.

Once you managed to come back down to earth, you turned your head to the side, your lips latching onto his. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue delving inside your mouth, licking past your teeth urgently. His hand rose up, the splashing of water the only sound in the room, and gently gripped your chin, index finger and thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks, prying your mouth open so he could feast.

You dropped your hand below the bubbles, your tongues still dancing, the grip on your jaw still firm and wet. Lifting your hips so your fingers could search underneath, you lined his throbbing length against your opening before slowly easing down.

The kiss stalled, open mouths hovering over the other as you each focused intently on him entering you, and only when you finally were able to accommodate his size and take him all did you both sigh with relief.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he whined as his fingers released their grip on your jaw. Your head fell limply against his shoulder but still turned to the side so you could look at him. "How are- shit," he cursed, his hips slowing down when water splashed over the side of the tub. "How are you still so tight? Goddamn," he groaned.

Your arm snaked up out of the water, reaching behind you, hand getting lost in his curls and pulling him down for a sloppy kiss as his hips rocked into you steadily from behind. You had no idea how he did it, but every time with him felt like the first time, and it always took your breath away.

"'Cause you're so big," you whispered against his mouth, knowing that answer would spark something in him. And you were right. His eyes flashed excitedly at the compliment and his hips moved faster, making you moan.

"Yeah?" he pressed, urging you to continue as he panted against your cheek. "Biggest you've ever had?"

"Yes," you admitted quickly, nodding your head, mouth agape as he nudged against that spot inside you that always made you come undone. "Oh god, Joel," you whimpered, trying to stave off your orgasm, knowing it was coming too soon after your first one.

Your legs began to shake as his knees pinned them to the sides of the tub, keeping you spread wide open as he thrusted into you, water sloshing over the sides and splashing your faces, but neither of you cared.

"Need you to come," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm close, baby, need you to come. Can you- fuck, can you come for me?"

"Yeah," you whined, then gasped when his hand unexpectedly dove under the water to find your clit again. It took no time at all for him to draw another orgasm from you, this one much faster than the first, but somehow even more powerful. When you clenched around him and cried out his name, fingers slipping through his wet hair, he couldn't hold back any longer. Your body sagged against him as he thrusted slow, long strokes, groaning as he came deep inside you, pulling your hips against him roughly until his body stilled and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into your hair. He began to soften inside you but he wasn't ready to move just yet. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close against his chest until the water began to cool and he felt goosebumps prickle your skin.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, and you nodded sleepily.

He drained the tub and wrapped you in one of the two robes that hung on the back of the door, taking the other for himself before pulling the comforter back, disregarding the rose petals on the bed.

You slid underneath the soft, cool sheets, still wrapped in the fuzzy robe, completely uninterested in unpacking and finding pajamas. Joel curled up behind you, his arm snaking around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

As he felt your breath deepen and slow, he was confident that he had never been more content in his entire life than he was in that moment.

The next morning was lazy and slow. For once, neither of you felt compelled to start the day. There was no urgency about running errands or getting to work or keeping up with Sarah and her busy schedule. When you woke, after murmuring Happy Valentine's Day against each other's mouths between kisses, you sleepily discussed options for breakfast, both of you scrolling on your phones, scanning menus for nearby cafes before ultimately deciding on room service just so you could lounge in bed a bit longer.

Sitting perched on top of the crumpled comforter, rose petals still haphazardly scattered about, you put your trays in the middle of the bed, picking off of each other's plates and taking a quick picture of the heart shaped pancakes before devouring them. He reached forward to collect some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb and you fed him a strawberry, giggling when he gently snagged your finger tip with his teeth to suck the juices that stained your skin.

"Give me a real smile," you teased him, holding your phone in front of your face and biting back a laugh at how silly he looked, still clad in the plush hotel robe, revealing a generous amount of his tanned chest, with a pile of rose petals balancing on top of his messy curls.

After you snapped a couple pictures, he lunged forward and yanked your phone from your grasp, rose petals fluttering down around you as you giggled. He pinned you into the bed and smothered you with kisses as you writhed underneath him, acting like you wanted to get away but you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be. Rolling off to the side, he held your phone up above your faces and started taking pictures: a blurry, off-centered one, one where you were both smiling and kissing, another where you gently sunk your teeth onto his earlobe and he pretended to be in pain.

You couldn't have imagined a more perfect way to wake up on Valentine's Day.

"What are we doing today?" you asked him as you pulled on your sneakers once you both finally relented and decided you should at least see the city a little bit before you had to leave tomorrow.

"There's some great museums, thought you'd like to pick one. There's always the zoo or the aquarium. Or we can just walk 'round-"

"Museum sounds perfect," you told him, standing up on your tiptoes to give him what was likely the millionth kiss in the past twelve hours.

"Then I got us reservations at some fancy Italian spot two blocks over," he said, squinting down at his phone while he walked, leading you to the elevator. "Here's all the museums downtown, pick the best one," he said, handing you his phone and pressing the button for the elevator.

"The best one?" you repeated with a laugh.

"Y'know what I mean," he smirked, stepping forward into the elevator and pushing the lobby button.

You decided on the science museum, thinking maybe you could find Sarah a cool souvenir while you were there. She had recently taken an interest in Ancient Egypt and you noticed they had an exhibition on the topic.

Although the museum was a ways away from your hotel and the air was frigid, you still chose to walk. Hand in hand, you strolled together down the street, admiring the tall buildings and bridges in the distance.

When you walked past a coffee shop, Joel ushered you both inside to warm up and get some hot drinks to hold before you reached the museum. When the barista asked what you wanted, Joel answered for you, telling him your favorite drink, rattling it off from memory as if it were his phone number, and you smiled.

You had each finished your drinks right before reaching the museum. Tossing your empty cup into a nearby garbage can, you dropped your hand to your side, fingers seeking his out of habit, always looking for a reason to touch him. As you watched him gaze up at the enormous dinosaur skeleton that greeted you in the front lobby, you wondered how on earth you got so lucky. With so many people in the world, how was it possible you found him? Was it fate? Destiny? But at the same time, you wondered why it took so long to find each other. You each could have saved yourselves so much pain with past lovers, but maybe you both needed to feel that pain in order to fully appreciate what you have now.

"Sarah's going to be so jealous she missed this," you murmured as you slowly strolled through an exhibition about space.

Joel tried to pay attention to the endless stars and galaxies above your heads, but the dim overhead lighting accentuating your perfect features kept drawing his gaze.

Your hands linked together loosely, he followed you around the dark room, watching as your eyes sparkled and the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile when you saw something especially beautiful. He glanced around the nearly empty exhibition before tugging on your hand, spinning you around in surprise and pulling you against his chest. His free hand came up to pinch your chin, tipping your face up to his and pressing his lips gently against yours.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you replied with a teasing grin.

He watched as you entered the Ancient Egypt exhibition, dropping his hand so you could pull out your phone and take pictures. You smiled down at the screen, your thumbs tapping away quickly, far quicker than he ever could, as you texted his daughter some pictures with a message that included the words we miss you, happy Valentine's Day, kiddo.

"Which one should we get her?" you asked him in the gift shop, turning around to hold up two books. He took his time examining each one while thinking about how sweet you always were with Sarah. She never told him outright, but he could tell she looked up to you, and while he and Tommy did their best to give Sarah everything she ever needed after her mom abandoned them, he always knew he couldn't give her everything, no matter how hard he tried. But seeing his daughter with you over the past few months, he could already tell you were giving her something she always craved: a strong, warm, maternal presence in her life.

"This one," he said finally, putting the other book back on the shelf.

"I hope you don't mind if I wait til after dinner to give you your gift," you told him, walking down the street together, one hand linked with his, the other gripping the plastic bag that carried Sarah's book.

He suddenly remembered what you alluded to while you were packing and he turned to you with great interest.

"Can I get a hint?"

You giggled, your cheeks beginning to warm even though the air was cold.

"It matches the dress you picked out for me."

He groaned, mentally trying to divert the rush of blood literally anywhere else other than between his legs.

When you got ready for dinner that evening, Joel leaving you to your own devices in the luxurious bathroom, you dug through your duffel bag, fingertips searching for the small, black bag you had hidden the bright red lingerie in. Double checking the door was locked, you pulled out the delicate material, rubbing the small roses that adorned the fabric between the pads of your fingers. Stripping down, you carefully tugged the underwear over each leg, your hips swaying side to side until the lace covered your lower half. You gave the string bikini strap a little snap before pulling the matching bra on, clasping it and adjusting the straps before looking in the mirror.

He would be able to see right through the lace, and the thought of his reaction thrilled you.

You slipped into the red dress he picked out and you checked your hair and makeup once more before putting on a pair of heels you hadn't worn in months that you knew would make your calves ache later, but it would be worth it.

Stepping out of the bathroom quietly, you managed to get a glimpse of him before he heard you as he was bent over the dresser, tilting his head slightly to check his hair in the mirror and you thought you'd never seen him look more handsome. He caught your eye in the reflection and smirked before turning around, dragging his gaze up and down your body appreciatively before stepping towards you and enveloping you in his arms.

"You look perfect," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at the side of your neck, and if it weren't for the lipstick you had just applied moments ago, you would have left your own bites on his skin.

"Just gotta put on my tie, then we can go," he said, pulling back, but you grabbed his hand.

"I like it better without," you told him, your fingers coming up to fix the collar of his crisp white dress shirt, then falling to undo the top two buttons, your finger nail scraping gently at the newly exposed skin before running your hands down his shoulders and picking off a small piece of lint from his black blazer.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk.

Before leaving the room, he pulled out his phone and flipped the camera so he could take a selfie, standing behind you with one arm around your waist, his chin nuzzled against your neck, he murmured I love you and once you flashed that real smile of yours, he quickly snapped the picture.

"This place is beautiful," you said, fairly certain you had said it at least three times now, but it was true. The lighting was dim, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere that invited hushed conversations and quick kisses amongst the candlelight.

"Glad you like it," Joel replied, his arm stretching across the white linen tablecloth, fingers tangling with yours next to your empty plates. Your waiter came by silently to scoop up the dirty dishes and refill your wine, but you had hardly noticed. The way the candlelight danced across his face kept you so entranced that you had to force yourself to look away or else you might find yourself sitting on his lap in front of the whole restaurant.

His thumb stroked your knuckles as you glanced around, trying to clear your head. It appeared the whole place was filled with couples just like you: happy and madly in love. You smiled to yourself when you saw an older couple feeding each other tiramisu, your eyes continuing to drift across the room until they stopped on a beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and hair who happened to be staring right at you. When your eyes met hers, she quickly looked away, turning her head back to her date.

"You know why I asked you to wear that dress?"

Joel's voice brought you back to the present. You turned back to him with a smile and shook your head.

"The night you wore that was the night I realized I was in love with you," he said, eyes dropping shyly to the table for a moment before meeting yours again.

"Sarah's recital?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yep," he said, leaning forward a bit more. "Knew that night I was a goner."

You giggled and he smiled, about to tell you how much he loved your laugh, but you spoke first.

"For me, it was the afternoon I helped you wrap presents," you said, feeling your cheeks warm from both the wine and your admission. Your eyes flicked around the restaurant and found that same woman looking at you again, but this time she didn't look away. It was dark and difficult to see, but you thought she looked familiar.

"Ah, so sad, pathetic men do it for you?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow, and you laughed.

"Maybe," you said, your eyes drifting over to the woman again, who was now involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation with her date.

"Don't make it obvious, but does that woman in the black dress look familiar to you? I can't place her and she keeps looking over here," you said, tilting your head to the side so he knew what direction to look. He sat back in his chair and let his gaze slowly and casually drag around the room before he stopped on the woman in question.

Joel didn't blink. He forgot how to breathe. His grip on your fingers tightened while his throat began to squeeze shut, unable to look away. It was like he was seeing a ghost, and in a way, he was.

"Joel?" he heard you say, but your voice sounded so far away.

"Uh," he stammered, unable to form any coherent sentence.

"Are you okay? You look pale," you said, sounding concerned, and he finally tore his eyes away so he could look at you.

"That's..." he paused and took a big sip of wine. "That's Sarah's mom."

"What?!" you whispered, eyes wide as you tried your hardest not to look at her again. Now you knew why she looked so familiar: you had seen an old picture of her and Joel on Facebook when you first started dating.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I-I don't know," he said, letting go of your hand so he could rub his eyes. "Long time. Years. I had no idea she was even still in the damn state."

"Do you want to go? Maybe we should go," you said, lifting your arm to catch your waiter's attention, but he stopped you.

"No. We ain't leavin'. This is our night, I'm not gonna let her ruin it."

"She can't ruin it," you said, locking eyes with him. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her use her napkin and stand up, heading in your direction.

"Okay, she's coming over here."

"What?" he whispered, seized with panic.

"It's fine. You're fine, Joel," you said firmly. He nodded and swallowed, focusing on your voice to keep him grounded. When she approached your table, you looked up and forced a smile.

"Hi, I'm Char," she said with a smile of her own, reaching out her long, thin arm to shake your hand. Joel stiffened in his chair, his muscles feeling so tight it was starting to hurt.

"Hi," you replied, taking her hand and giving her your name before shifting your nervous smile in Joel's direction.

She looked at Joel as well, giving him an awkward wave and he tried to smile, he really did, but he felt frozen.

"Can we talk?" he thought he heard her ask. He shook his head, absolutely not, but your hand reached out for his and gave him a gentle squeeze, grounding him once again.

"It's okay, go ahead," you told him. His eyes shifted between the two of you, completely at a loss. You gave him a warm smile, a real smile, and nodded encouragingly.

"Five minutes," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or his ex, but it didn't matter.

Begrudgingly, he stood, dropping his napkin on his chair and shooting you one more glance before he followed Char out of the dining room and into the more brightly lit hallway that led to the hostess stand and front door. She turned to look at him, mouth opening and closing, struggling to find the right words.

"You look good, Joel," she said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You too."

She chewed her lower lip and glanced around, and Joel could feel his patience already running thin.

"What do you want, Char?" he asked, wanting the question to come off angry but he just ended up sounding tired.

"I wanted to... I don't know. Apologize," she said, dragging her eyes back up to him. "I shouldn't have left you like that. It was wrong."

"Us," Joel corrected her, raising his eyebrows. "You left us."

"Yeah, of course," she said with a nod. "You know what I mean."

Joel bit his tongue and glanced down at his shoes, wishing nothing more than for this conversation to end so he could be with you again and forget this ever happened.

"You seem happy. Your girlfriend is pretty, how long have you been together?"

"Few months," he said, looking back up at Char once again. "I am happy. She makes me happy."

"Good. That's good..." she replied, trailing off and looking down at her hands. Splaying her fingers, she held them up, showing him her ring. "I'm married. That's my husband in there," she said, the word husband getting caught in her throat. "We're, uh... we're expecting," she added, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach. "Just found out a few weeks ago."

"Oh," Joel said, blinking in disbelief. "Congrats."

"Thanks," she said with a small smile. "How's work? How's Tommy?"

"How's-" he scoffed and rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, growing agitated. "How about how's Sarah? Your daughter?"

Char took a deep breath, falling silent.

"She's doin' great, by the way," Joel continued, his jaw clenching. "She's on the honor roll, got a real talent for the violin and she's already lookin' at colleges. She's kind and honest and smart-"

"Okay, Joel, message received," she replied, holding up her hands in defeat. "I'm not allowed to move on, but you are."

"She's your fuckin' kid, Char," Joel bit back. "You don't move on from your kid."

"That's not what I said, stop putting words in my mouth!"

"You didn't need to," he said, glancing down at her stomach briefly. "Do you ever even think 'bout her? On her birthday, does she cross your mind at all? Is your baby gonna know they got a sister?"

Char's eyes filled with tears as she looked away guiltily.

"Y'know, I think I'm done here," he said, his voice suddenly growing calmer. "Thank you," he said, catching her eye. "I'm glad we talked. Cleared up a lot of questions."

He turned away and headed back into the dining room, back to you. Back to the woman who, in only three months, had treated his daughter with more love than her own mother.

You saw him approaching your table and you straightened up in your seat, trying to read his face. He sat down and gave you a smile, then reached his arms across the table to take both your hands.

"Everything okay?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, everythin's great," he said, staring deep into your eyes, still smiling. You gave him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. "I mean it. That-" he nodded in the direction of the hallway, "nothin' to worry 'bout. Couldn't be happier," he said earnestly.

You examined him closely as a slow smile spread across your face.

"What? I swear," he said, grinning.

"I know," you replied. "Because that's your real smile."

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" you asked him as you stepped off the elevator. The two of you had stood your ground and stayed at the restaurant, ordering another bottle of wine and a dessert to share, each of you refusing to bring up the topic of Sarah's mom until now, when the alcohol was making your head swim and your lips loose.

"Mhm, I'm sure," he said, leaning against the doorframe, blinking a few times and trying to focus on opening the door. "Nothin' to say that I already didn't know. Besides," he pushed the door open and looked at you with a smirk, "I ended up with who I was meant to be with."

"Charmer," you teased, feeling your face flush as you walked into the room and flicked the light on. You had barely made it three steps into the room before his hands circled around you from behind, pulling you close against his chest. Dropping your purse on the nightstand, you leaned back into him with a sigh.

"Do you want to open your present now?"

You felt him smile against the back of your neck.

"Yes, please," he mumbled.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you stepped away. Turning around, you gave his chest a gentle shove and he instantly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, still wearing that black suit that made him look way too good. Your palms dragged up his chest and underneath his blazer, fingers curling around his broad shoulders and down his back so the jacket slid down in a pool around his waist. He watched you, hardly moving an inch, his breath coming quicker the longer he waited, loving and hating the anticipation.

"I really like this suit on you," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe while your hands made their way down. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, you tugged with both hands, pulling the material free from his pants. "But I think you deserve to be a little more comfortable."

He nodded, the wine and his insatiable need for you making him docile and quiet. He watched in a daze, barely blinking, as you turned around and slowly unzipped your dress, glancing once over your shoulder with a playful smirk. A very selfish and cruel thought popped into his clouded mind as he watched you, one his sober mind never would have allowed through. Why couldn't he have had Sarah with you, instead? You're so beautiful and perfect and sweet, you never would have abandoned them. You would have been a great mother. So patient and giving. Then another insane thought occurred to him as your dress began to slide down your body.

You still could be a great mother. And he could make that happen.

His lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue, but fortunately the logical part of his brain took over: stop, too soon, don't say that, you're drunk.

He swallowed the words down, his mind losing focus on that random, sudden urge and fixating instead on the red, lacy lingerie you had hidden under your dress all evening. He let out a pained whimper when you turned around and he realized he could see right through the material, your perfect breasts and warm slit available for his gaze to devour.

He must have forgotten to speak, although the thoughts in his head were so loud, he could have sworn you'd be able to hear them. You looked at him shyly and shifted your weight from foot to foot.

"Do you like it?"

He dragged his eyes up to your face, his jaw slack and the hardness between his legs becoming incredibly uncomfortable. How could you possibly think he wouldn't like it?

"I love it," he said, voice low and heated. "I love you."

You grinned and stepped forward, standing between his legs, your fingers slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt while his hands roamed up and down the backs of your thighs, still hypnotized by the lingerie you bought just for him. Nobody else got to see this.

His hands drifted up to your hips, calloused palms dragging over the delicate material, his fingers slipping underneath the straps on the sides and giving them a playful snap. He dropped his hands so his shirt could join his blazer, then quickly found your soft skin once again. It was a miracle he remembered to breathe as his hands made their way up your stomach to cup your breasts. He marveled at the way you responded to him: breath hitching in your throat, thighs squeezing together, lower lip pulling between your teeth.

You gave him another gentle shove on the chest, and he fell backwards with a grunt, fingers itching to touch you but you were just out of reach as you began to undo his belt, then the zipper on his pants before tugging them down to his ankles. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing while you pulled his pants all the way off.

His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt your hot exhale over the fly of his boxers, warming his aching length, making him twitch. When you pulled his waistband down and took him in your perfect mouth, he groaned so loud he had to remind himself there were other people in the hotel. You smirked up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried not to lose control, and the mere thought of him coming undone like that because of you made your knees weak. You loved that feeling. You recklessly chased that feeling, eager to see more, hear more, feel more to the point where his fingers had got tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling a little rougher than he meant to as he gasped your name.

"Slow down," he whispered, his voice strained. "Baby, please-"

You released him with a pop, watching with fascination and excitement as his sweaty chest rose up and down rapidly, his eyes screwed shut, deeply focused.

"Sorry," you said, your tone implying anything but. He finally opened his eyes to look at you, kneeling on the floor between his legs, hair a mess, lipstick smudged and he had to resist the urge to ask for another picture. "Scoot up," you told him, and he obediently dragged his body backwards so his legs no longer bent over the edge of the mattress. You slowly crawled on top of him, leaving chaste kisses along his thighs, then hips, stomach and chest until you found his lips.

You moaned softly when your clothed heat dragged over his stiff length, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you rocked back and forth slowly, reveling in the sensation. You lifted yourself off of him, your hands reaching down to pull down your underwear when he stopped you.

"Leave it on," he said huskily, then his finger tucked underneath the band as he slowly traced the edge of your panties, his smooth fingernail gliding along your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. He hooked another finger underneath the soaked fabric and he pulled them to the side, then glanced up at you.

The heat and hunger behind his stare sent a bolt of excitement through you. Unable to hold back any longer, you reached down and notched him at your opening, then slowly sank down, mouth open and brows pinched as your body stretched to accommodate him, then letting out a quiet ah when you were finally fully seated.

"So pretty," he murmured repeatedly, his eyes raking all over your body as you began to roll your hips, somehow only noticing now for the first time the little roses embroidered on the lingerie. His fingers dug into your sides, guiding your movements as he stared down at where you were connected and he thought this is true happiness.

Your hands fell forward onto his chest, pressing down for leverage as you picked up the pace, your eyes squeezing shut and your breath coming in fast little pants. Your arms pushed your breasts together and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on you. He craned his neck upward, his mouth latching over a clothed nipple and you cried out when his teeth grazed against the sensitive nub a little too hard.

The lace felt soft against his tongue but was beginning to irritate the base of his cock as the material tried to shift back into place. He laid flat once again and in a heated moment without thinking, he dipped the index and middle fingers of both hands into your panties and gave them a forceful tug. You gasped and stalled your movements when you looked down and watched him pull the destroyed underwear from between you with a grunt.

"I'll buy you new ones," he said, his hands returning to your hips, urging you to continue. You giggled and picked up where you left off.

"No need, they were yours to do with what you wanted," you said, biting down on your lip when he gave you an animalistic groan.

His hips began to buck up into you, matching you thrust for thrust as you both began to lose yourselves in one another.

"Joel," you whined, trying to warn him, trying to tell him it feels too good, I love you too much, this weekend was too perfect, but all you could manage to do was chant his name. It didn't matter, though, because he knew. He was thinking the same things and he wondered if anyone else in history had ever loved and understood someone the way he does with you. Surely not, because how on earth would anything ever get done if everybody got to experience a love like this?

"Keep goin'," he muttered, his teeth clenching as he felt his stomach tighten. You bounced up and down faster, a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest, making you glow.

"Ohmygod, Joel, I'm close," you rasped, eyes boring into his. He nodded, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly and slamming you down over and over until you gasped then let out a low moan, your legs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up while you rode out your climax.

"Fuck!" he yelled, spilling himself inside you moments later. His hips thrusted upwards, pushing himself as deep as he could until he slowed, then came to a stop with a small whimper.

You collapsed tiredly onto his chest, the lace from your bra rubbing against his skin while his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close.

"I got you," he mumbled into your hair, both of you panting for breath. After a moment, you pressed slow, languid kisses against his shoulder, trailing up his neck until you found his lips.

"Thank you for my present," he said, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You giggled and, with shaky legs, pushed yourself off him and rolled to the side, clawing weakly at the sheets that housekeeping tucked in way too tightly until you could slip underneath. He stood up with a groan and disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a minute later with a damp washcloth and two bottles of water.

"Here," he said, holding one out to you. "We drank a lot of wine, you're gonna have a real bad headache if you don't drink some water."

You took it and he pulled the sheets back to clean you up. As you unscrewed the cap and watched him, you couldn't keep the smile from your face.

"Sarah was so lucky to have you, you know," you said, taking a sip of water, and he looked up at you in surprise. "Because you're so caring and patient. You always look out for everyone. You're so understanding and easy going, especially after everything you've gone through. That must have been so hard," you said, furrowing your brow while playing with one of his curls. "And you did such a great job, Joel. You're a really, really good dad."

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued to look at you, watching you play mindlessly with his hair, having no idea how impactful your words just were and how badly he needed to hear that.

"Thank you," he whispered, and you smiled.

"Let's go to sleep," you said, yawning through the last word, but he insisted you drink the rest of your water before he turned out the lights and snuck into bed behind you, pulling you close.

Even though you weren't Sarah's mom, you were in their lives now, and that's all that mattered.

"Hey, wake up," Joel was saying in your ear. You frowned, then winced as the inevitable hangover set in in the form of a monster headache.

"Ouch," you whispered, your throat gravelly with sleep. He chuckled and nudged a cold water bottle against your arm, making you shudder.

"Here, this'll help. I got some ibuprofen on your nightstand and breakfast is on the way up."

Cracking an eye open, you forced yourself to slowly sit up against the headboard and looked around the room. Your clothes were still scattered over the floor but it appeared Joel had tried to at least move them out of the way a bit. He was sitting next to you, still shirtless, hair a mess and looking a little under the weather himself, but when you asked if his head hurt, he denied it.

"What time is it?" you mumbled, searching around for your phone before you realized you had left it in your purse, which was next to the medicine you had yet to take.

"Ten," he said, tapping your arm to draw your focus off your purse and back onto him. "Move in with me."

"What?" you sputtered in shock.

"Move in with me," he repeated, a smile stretching across his face. "I want you to live with me and Sarah."

"B-but Joel, I just signed a lease to an apartment like, a month ago," you stammered, looking back down at your purse and fishing out your phone.

"How long's the lease?"

"Six months," you said, plugging your phone into the charger before turning back to him.

"Okay, so five more months?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "Then you'll move in with us?"

"W-what- where is this coming from? We talked about this on New Years-"

"Yeah, I know, but I woke up today and looked over at you and realized I wanna be able to wake up next to you every day, not just sometimes," he said, scooting closer across the bed so he could hold your hand.

You thought about it for a moment, completely taken aback and your head still pounding. When you opened your mouth to answer, a knock at the door interrupted you.

"That's breakfast, hang on," he said, holding up one finger to you as he shrugged on a robe and greeted the waiter. You swallowed the two pills he left for you and chugged the water as you thought about your answer in the brief minute you had alone.

"So?" he urged when he came back into the bedroom carrying a tray of food and coffee. He seemed to anticipate your hangover because it was mostly toast and jams with some scrambled eggs for protein and a little bit of fruit.

"Did you talk about it with Sarah first?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you, his gaze softening for a quick moment before reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, trying to express how much it meant to him that you thought of Sarah so often before he pulled away.

"Not yet, but I got a feelin' she'll love it," he said with a grin before he handed you a plate with some toast. "She wanted you to move in when we were in New York, remember?"

"Yeah, but you should still talk to her about it," you insisted, taking a tentative bite of toast.

"I will," he promised, watching you eat slowly for a moment. "So, is that a yes?"

You felt your heart flutter as you nodded your head, giggling when he excitedly lunged forward for another kiss.

Once your hangover wore off, the two of you explored the city for a few hours, then made sure to check out the hot tub in the hotel like Joel had wanted before heading home, all the while the two of you wearing matching smiles plastered across your faces.

Your real smiles.

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