#i just don’t see why they let her get a truck that barely runs but the volvo was ‘unreliable’

[steviescrystals]

the way my parents wouldn’t let me get my dream car bc it was unreliable so i had to settle for a subaru that is arguably much worse and now my sister gets a really cool and really shitty truck 💔

[cilliansmesoftly]

chase it

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader

summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?

warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?

his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?

he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.

the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.

tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.

“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”

“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?

“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”

“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.

“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.

if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.

if you feel it, chase it.

he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.

“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”

tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.

you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.

“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.

“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.

tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.

“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.

“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.

“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.

“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.

“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”

“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.

“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.

“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.

“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.

“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”

“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”

“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.

“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.

“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”

“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”

“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”

“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.

“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.

you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.

“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.

“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”

you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.

“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.

“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”

“okay.” you nodded.

“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”

you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.

“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.

you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”

“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”

“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”

you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”

you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.

“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.

“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.

“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.

he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.

he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.

“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.

“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”

“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.

“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”

“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”

“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”

“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.

the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”

“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.

“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”

“i’m yours.” you mumbled.

“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”

you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.

“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.

“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.

the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.

“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.

“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”

“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”

“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”

“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”

“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”

“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.

the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.

the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.

“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.

“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.

“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.

“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”

“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.

“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”

“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”

“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”

you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”

the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.

[pucksandpower]

Best Laid Plans

Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader

Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end — a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him — but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that

Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation

Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlos’ win? Maybe …

So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas

The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.

How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.

He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her — Y/N Vasseur.

The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.

An idea begins to form in Carlos’ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?

Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. “Y/N, fancy running into you here,” he lies easily. “I didn’t realize you were vacationing at this resort too.”

You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sun’s glare. “Carlos! What a pleasant surprise.” Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlos’ mind. He quickly silences them — this is just collateral damage.

“I was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?” You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.

Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know what, I would love to.”

Stripping off his shirt, he can’t help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself it’s just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.

“So what’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?” Carlos asks once he’s waded in beside you.

You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. “Taking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be … demanding at times.”

That piques Carlos’ interest — to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. “Oh? Do tell, I’m fascinated.”

With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. You’re whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.

“Wow,” he finds himself saying once you’ve finished. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that from you. Not that I’m judging a book by its cover or anything!” He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.

You let out another of those bright laughs. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.”

There’s a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what it’s like to be looked down on and underestimated.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you do is really impressive,” he finds himself saying honestly. “And anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.”

The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. “Why Carlos Sainz, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

He grins back unrepentantly. “Is it working?”

You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. “Maybe a little.”

The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way he’s not used to from women. It’s exhilarating and unexpected.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down … you’re Fred Vasseur’s daughter.

The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlos’ head. What is he doing? This woman hasn’t done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.

But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.

With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What’s that look for?”

“Just thinking,” he murmurs once he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “About how I could make this vacation even more … memorable.”

His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. “If you’ll allow me?”

For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission Carlos needs before he’s crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.

You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy — everything Carlos didn’t know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the pool’s surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you — hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.

Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the pool’s tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.

One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.

“You feel so good, cariño,” he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. “So fucking perfect ...”

In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until you’re a limp, sated puddle.

He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.

Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs “Should we take this somewhere more private, princesa?”

You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. “God, yes ... please ...”

The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlos’ cock. He’s fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.

With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You feel that, cariño?” Carlos rumbles darkly. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?”

He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.

“P-please ...” You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. “I need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...”

And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that you’re grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.

“P-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,” Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more … private to continue this?”

You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.

Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. He’s never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort — just a stone’s throw from where you’re leading him, he’ll finally be able to have you all to himself.

The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find — his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open you’re both panting like you’ve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.

The second you’re inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and he’s abruptly reminded of who you are.

“Are you sure about this?” He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. “Because if we do this, I can promise you there’s no going back for me, cariño.”

You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. “I want this, Carlos. I want you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.

You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until he’s blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, you’re even more stunning like this — hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.

Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princesa,” he rumbles against your overheated skin. “How many times I’ve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...”

The truth is, he hasn’t thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.

“I’ve watched you, you know,” he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...”

You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate he’s managed to make you for him so quickly.

“Is this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?” He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. “Hard and deep and ruthless until you can’t remember anything but my name on your tongue?”

“Yes!” The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.

Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.

With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.

“Last chance, cariño,” he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. “After this, I won’t be able to stop until you’re utterly ruined for anyone else’s touch ...”

The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. “Carlos … Carlos, please!”

Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.

The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. You’re impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape — he’s never felt anything quite like it.

Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if you’ll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.

Once he’s fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length — hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body can’t decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.

“Fuck, cariño ...” The words tear from Carlos’ throat in a ragged groan. “You feel incredible. So perfect for me.”

You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. It’s all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.

Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. He’s never seen anything so erotic in his life.

You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly you’re nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.

“Please, Carlos!” You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. “I need it, I need you to-”

He doesn’t let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.

Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.

“That’s it, princesa,” he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. “Take it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.”

As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.

Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.

“Look at me,” he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.”

You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.

“That’s it, cariño ... fuck, you’re exquisite like this.” His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.

Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.

You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. “Carlos! Oh my god, Carlos, I’m … I can’t ...”

“Come for me, princesa,” Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. “Let me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...”

The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.

If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he won’t last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.

When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.

“No ...” You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. “Carlos, please. Don’t stop ...”

Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more — this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.

He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.

“Tell me what you want, cariño,” he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. “Use your words and tell me.”

For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, “I want … I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...” Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. “Don’t hold back. I need to feel you come too.”

A harsh groan is punched from Carlos’ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.

There’s likely no coming back from it — he’ll ruin you for anyone else’s touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, you’ll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.

For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again — a thin, keening sound of utter desperation — and it’s like the last thread of Carlos’ control snaps completely.

“Hold on tight then, cariño ... because I won’t be able to stop.”

That’s the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesn’t let up from there — turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.

You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like he’s trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples — drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.

Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.

Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle — this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.

“Could you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?” Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. “You were made just to be split open on my cock ...”

You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.

He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isn’t finished yet — isn’t anywhere close to getting his fill.

“Look at me, cariño,” he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. “I need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...”

His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.

And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.

By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.

When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.

It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world.

Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.

As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.

For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isn’t simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more — something deeper …. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.

He’s in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.

***

Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, he’s unsure of his surroundings — the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what he’s used to waking up in.

Then the previous night’s events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool … the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated … finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.

He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.

You’re tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlos’ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.

He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.

Like this — sleep-rumpled and soft in the morning’s buttery rays — you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlos’ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, you’re somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.

Unconsciously, Carlos’ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried he’s disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.

He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble you’ve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling — a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.

Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.

When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual … cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.

He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist — someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.

Except … Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he can’t put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he can’t seem to walk back from.

Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards — not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.

With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where they’re splayed over his ribs — reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.

“What are you doing to me, princesa?” Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all ...”

Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance — an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that he’s had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesn’t think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.

Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you … you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.

How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.

The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which … is not great, all things considered.

Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, he’ll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided — a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while you’re still tangled up together so prettily.

But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. There’s no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.

Something in Carlos’ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. You’re not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.

“Carlos?” You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. “What’s wrong, mon beau?”

Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply … bask in your presence for a while.

“Nothing’s wrong, princesa,” he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. “I just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, that’s all.”

That small, secret smile he’s rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.

“Well then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.”

Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, you’re rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.

He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way that’s swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlos’ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.

When you break apart at last, you’re both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.

“Don’t think for one second that I’ve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariño,” he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. “You’ve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.”

Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.

“Carlos ...” You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. “What are you saying?”

He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects you’re asking. And there it is — desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.

Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.

“I’m saying,” he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. “That I can’t simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.”

The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You don’t attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlos’ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.

He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didn’t allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.

Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones — you are so much more than any of that.

And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.

***

The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess — drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.

You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.

He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.

The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.

He imagines precisely how you would react — arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...

Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlos’ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.

With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.

“Having fun out here without me, cariño?” He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.

You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. “I’m always having fun when I’m with you, Mr. Race Winner,” you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. “Even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing.”

The words are simple — honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlos’ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, it’s moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.

You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlos’ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?”

He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like that’s the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.

“Nothing to worry about, princesa,” Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. “Just feeling … lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.”

The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlos’ stomach swoop.

“Well, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,” you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlos’ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.

Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in — that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.

Then there are the quieter, more intimate details he’s gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when you’re feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when you’re aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when you’re concentrating intently on something.

Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.

Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesn’t give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.

Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely — savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.

This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.

You’re practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.

“So impatient, cariño,” he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. “You know that’s not what I had in mind for tonight.”

With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. “And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”

A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlos’ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...

He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.

“I thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,” he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. “Just you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.”

You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesn’t realize he’s allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.

With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.”

Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.

He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space — curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like that’s where you were always meant to fit. For Carlos’ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than you’ll ever know.

You spend what could be minutes or hours like that — exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.

The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace — this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.

“Hey,” you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one always saying we should be living in the present?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. “What brings that up all of a sudden?”

You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlos’ spine.

“I’m just wondering what’s got you stuck in your head so often these days,” you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. “We’ve barely been able to share … intimate moments at all the last month or so.”

Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.

“Perhaps I’ve been overtly romantic,” he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. “Missing out on more … physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.”

You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. He’s fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.

“Then maybe we should do something about that right now,” you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlos’ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.

He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger he’s been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.

Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over — salty and sweet and everything he’s been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.

You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlos’ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. “Don’t hold back with me any longer. Not tonight … need to feel all of you.”

A shudder wracks Carlos’ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows you’re right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully — heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.

Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.

“Is this what you want, princesa?” He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. “For me to finally have my way with you the way we’ve both been craving?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. “God, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.”

The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlos’ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.

“Princesa ...” Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. “No more waiting, no more teasing.”

His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.

“Carlos, mon cœur ...” You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. “Please. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.”

He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.

There’s no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.

Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. He’s utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again — hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.

He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure there’s no doubt in your mind how much he’s craved every inch of you.

“There’s my good girl,” he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. “Fuck … taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariño.”

Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.

Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.

Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.

“That’s it, princesa,” he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex — drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. “Take what’s yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until you’ve got no idea where you end and I begin.”

The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlos’ name, you seize up — inner walls rippling and convulsing like they’re taking him for everything he’s worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.

As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.

That’s when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.

“Ah fuck … just like that, cariño,” he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. “Taking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...”

Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina — just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.

For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.

When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.

“Hi,” you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.

“Hi yourself, princesa,” he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.

When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. He’s drowning and he’s never felt more gloriously unmoored.

“I love you, y’know? Like … down to the depths of my soul,” your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.

The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.

Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?

So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.

“I love you too, princesa,” he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. “With every fiber of my being. You are my everything.”

You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.

And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either

[avocado-writing]

hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!

The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.

God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?

You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 

Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.

Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 

The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 

A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 

“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 

“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”

“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 

“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”

You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.

Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”

A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.

Well, you hope you never see him again.

By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.

You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.

Yeah. You’re happy. 

Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.

You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.

The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.

“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.

“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”

“Sure.”

Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.

Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 

Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”

You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.

“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”

“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.

You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.

You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 

“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 

“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.

He does see you next week.

The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.

“You’re always reading huh?” 

His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.

“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”

Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”

He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 

“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”

Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 

Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.

What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”

DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!

Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.

“Sure, why not.”

Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.

“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”

“I can be. What time’s the screening?”

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!

Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”

Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.

You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 

Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 

He turns up. 

He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 

“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”

He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 

When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.

“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.

It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 

One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 

“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 

“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 

You beam. 

“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character’s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”

You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 

“Hmm?”

He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 

“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 

“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 

His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 

“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”

You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 

His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 

“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”

“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 

“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”

He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 

At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 

The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 

“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”

He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.

“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 

“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you still… will you still come up?”

He softens. 

“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”

It does. 

And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 

“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 

“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”

You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 

“Oh, even this?”

You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.

Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 

“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”

You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 

“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”

He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 

You do not make it to the bed. 

He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.

Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 

He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 

“That was the plan.”

He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 

“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 

“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 

You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 

“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”

He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.

“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”

Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear

[roosterforme]

Oouuu could you do a Drabble for Darlin and Hangman where he gets called to the hospital because Darlin had a bad migraine 🥹 totally fine if you don’t want to tho thank uuu bestie 🥹🫶🏻💗

Okay, but imagine if Darlin' was supposed to meet Jake somewhere and didn't show up on time. That would be so unlike her. He'd wait around for a few minutes and then start to call her. When it goes to voicemail five times in a row, he would really start to worry.

Jake hopped back in his truck, and headed for the apartment you shared with Kylie. Your last class ended hours ago, and you always answered or texted him back when he called. You even took your phone into the bathroom to listen to music when you showered. You should have been able to hear your ringtone.

As he knocked on the door, he could just tell something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention, and when Kylie opened the door, he was immediately looking past her into the apartment.

"Jake," Kylie greeted, delight lacing her voice and a smile adorning her face.

"Is she home?" he asked immediately, barely meeting her eyes before he was looking over her head again.

"Oh," she replied casually. "No, she's not."

Now he looked at her. "Do you know where she is?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, taking a step closer to him. "She got taken to the hospital."

"The hospital?!" he asked, panic rising up inside him as his heart pounded distressinly fast. "What happened?" he damanded.

Kylie shrugged. "She's probably fine. She collapsed during of her classes."

"What the fuck?" He was nearly in hysterics, and Kylie was barely showing any emotion. "Why aren't you there with her? Why didn't anyone let me know about it?"

"Like I said, she's probably fine," she replied. "And you're probably not listed as an emergency contact."

"Well, I will be after this," he snarled, turning away and sprinting for his truck.

It wasn't a long drive to get to the hospital, but now he was concerned that they wouldn't give him any information. He really should be listed as one of your emergency contacts along with your parents. Technically, he lived closer to your campus than they did, and he could get to you faster in an event like this. But luckily, after someone scanned his driver's license and military ID, they gave him permission to see you.

When he tore into the room, sick to his stomach over the sight of you wearing a hospital gown with an IV in your arm, you looked up at him and smiled. "Jake. You found me."

"Darlin', what happend?" he asked softly, running his hand along your forehead and down your cheek. You were a little clammy, and you looked tired, but you seemed to be okay as you melted into his touch.

"I had a migraine, and I thought I could make it to the end of my class, but it got so bad, I fainted."

"Fuck," he gasped, sinking to his knees next to the bed and kissing your fingers. "You're okay now?"

You nodded. "Mostly. I have some bruised ribs from falling out of my seat awkwardly. They're giving me some pain medicine and fluids."

He sighed deeply, finally letting himself calm down. "I was worried when you never showed up to meet me. Do you want me to call your parents from your phone?"

You grimaced and pointed toward the small tray table. Your phone screen was shattered into a million tiny pieces. "The hospital called them for me. They're on their way. I would have called you, too, but I couldn't."

"I'll buy you a new phone tomorrow," he promised as your parents both walked into the room.

"Oh, good. Jake's already here," your mom said, heading right to your side. "Maybe you should make him an emergency contact, too. It took us forever to get here."

"We'll take care of that tomorrow, too," Jake whispered, kissing your fingers again.

[lunajay33]

The One🤎

Summary: You were in the line up and Negan took a liking towards you taking you back to the sanctuary, he wants you as another wife but you’re different (age gap)

Pairing: Negan Smith x f!reader

•Masterlist•

You were sitting in the line up next to Carl, you were the second youngest of the group but for some reason you weren’t scared even though you were surrounded by men with guns and a man swinging around a bat

“Well now look at you, quite the beauty”

“Perv” the group looked at you like you were insane to talk to him like that after what he just did to Abraham

He kneeled in front of you smirking, it made your heart thump it was strange a feeling you’ve never really felt before

“Got a mouth on her too, I like it, how old?”

“22” you said with less sass this time

“Hmmmm I was thinking of killing another one of you but I think I’ll take you home instead” he laughed as he motioned to a man to move you to Negans truck

“You better not touch her” Michonne stated with no fear

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll take real good care of her………..let’s go boys!” Everyone got in there trucks, Negan hoping in the drivers seat just you and him, you looked out to window to those left in the line up watching you with fear, fear for you and what might happen

The truck rolled out of the dirt road until the group was was no longer in sight, leaving you to the silence of the truck, only the sound of Negan tapping on the steering wheel

“Do you have any music in this truck at least” you groaned hating the silence, never was one for it

He laughed pointing to the glove box

“Something should be in there darling”

Rummaging through the few cds that were in the glove box you found a Lana Del Rey CD making you laugh from shock

“Didn’t take you for a Lana man” you said as you slid the CD into the stereo skipping to White Mustang sitting back sighing in relief having missed this song

“What can I say, it’s enticing music, really gets the ladies in the mood”

“Oh really, and how many “ladies” do you get in the mood?” You asked in disbelief a little jealous as well even though you barely knew this man

“I have some wives, you might be the next”

“Well I don’t know what they’re like but if you want me as your wife it’s not going to be that easy and I won’t compete for a man” you didn’t know where this confidence came from but he made you feel a type of way

Negan showed you around the compound finally showing you where you’d be staying

“And this is your room, the other wives are all in the surrounding rooms, mines the one right at the end, if you ever need something”

“You live pretty lavishly up here, why do you need to steal from other communities” you groaned as you sat on the bed

“It’s the way I run things Angel get use to it, I’ll let you settle there will be a man on the outside of the door so you don’t try to escape” he said with that devilish smirk before he left closing the door behind him

You sighed laying back on the bed, in one day things changed so much, Maggie got sick something obviously wrong with the baby, caught by the saviours, Negan finishing off Abraham and now you were taken away from the people you loved, but maybe it was for the best maybe if he hadn’t taken you he might have killed more, if it meant they could live you could put up with whatever was going to happen here

The days went by, it had to have been a week and you haven’t left the room, the man at your door brought you food ever so often but you only ever had a little and picked at it, you felt like a prisoner, you thought since Negan took a liking to you that maybe he’d be around more

It was late in the middle of the night and the man at the door was long gone, you opened the door and the hall was silent, tiptoeing down the hall to the last room Negan said was his, you raised your hand to knock but decided to just go on in, turn the nob and opening slowly, peaking in to see him fast asleep on his huge bed the moon shining in through the windows

You walked to his side of the bed and poked his arm, no movement, you pushed him a bit harder but he only groaned

“Negan?” You whispered finally waking him up, he sat up in bed obviously still a bit out of it

“Angel what’re you doing here so late?” Suddenly this felt like an embarrassingly bad decision but it didn’t change how you were feeling

“I’m……I’m lonely”

You were ready for his quick wit or a horny remark but he just moved over and raised the blankets

“Well come on” you slide in next to him, the woodsy cherry cologne he wore surrounded you calming your nerves, you both laid down face to face

“None of the other wives have ever willingly come to my room” he said

“Why didn’t you come to mine? It’s been a week”

“I don’t know, guess you seem different than the others didn’t wanna blow my chances” this new side of him was a lot more comforting to be around

“Oh so you think you have a chance” you said letting out a sarcastic laugh

“You’re the one that came to my bed” he smirked

“I guess you could have a chance here but o don’t wanna be just another wife Negan” you said before sleep overcame you and you were out

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed except for a piece of paper where Negan was, you opened it a little nervous

“I’m out figuring some things out, I left you some new clothes on the edge of the bed, breakfast is on the desk, get your rest Angel”

Angel, that word sent a thrill through you, you looked to the end of the bed seeing a ivory lacy dress with a pair of worn cowgirl type boots and it fit perfectly, looking at the desk to see strawberries and pancakes, starving you ate the whole thing, tempted to lick the plate

The day went on and it was getting boring, you found a CD player and another Lana del Rey disc, playing Blue Jeans, you walked around the room checking out what he’s collected, a lot of CDs from nickelback to Lana to Alice in chains, a huge range of music, his closet was full of plaid and plain tshirts, you took a brown plaid and threw it on over your dress seeming to match perfectly and his cologne still lingered making your heart thump like the first time you talked

“Looking pretty gorgeous Angel, I see the clothes sit perfect” you heard from behind you making you jump and spin around seeing him leaning against the door frame

“Sorry I was a little cold and I just wanted to wear one” you said feeling embarrased

“Well I think you should wear my clothes more often” he smirked as he took your hand and led you to sit on the bed

“What did you do today? I thought you’d be here when I woke up”

“Your words got to me last night, I know we’ve barely known eachother but…..it’s been a long time since someone’s made me feel this way”

“How do I make you feel?” You asked sitting closer

“Oh I think you know Angel, cause I think you feel the same way, you get a thrill around me, your heart thumps when you’re close to me, I want that more than some meaningless hookups…….thats why let the other wives go, broke everything off, I wanna see where this can go just you and me” he said squeezing your hand

“Really you did that for me?”

“I want a chance Angel, if you’re up for it”

“I’m all yours Negan, but you have to leave Alexandria alone, they’re still my family……please”

“Whatever you want Angel, just want you happy”

He pushed your hair back behind your ear tracing his fingers down you checks to your jaw, butterflies going crazy in your stomach

“I might be a little inexperienced compared to you, I don’t wanna get your hopes up” he laughed before realizing you were serious

“Oh you’re serious, how have you never been with someone, you’re so sexy”

“Well you know the world ended and I never really found the person or the time to bang one out”

“Don’t worry baby, I got you, show you a real good time, when you’re ready”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"Fine, I'll go with you." Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Summary: It was exciting waiting for your boyfriend amongst the sea of families. If only your boyfriend didn't have a whole family waiting for him too. Thank god Lt. Seresin is there to save the day.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Warnings: Language, Cheating (not Jake!), protective Jake, asshole ex-boyfriend, military inaccuracies I'm sure.

Cross Posted on AO3

The homemade sign feels heavy in your hands. Your heart pounds steadily in your chest as a sea of blue uniforms begins to unload from the massive carrier. It feels incredible to be drowning in this sea of love and reunions. Families crying in each other's arms as they make it through another deployment, another separation. 

It would only be a matter of time before you could feel the same euphoria. You step on your tip toes, trying to seek him out when someone stumbles into you from behind. “Sorry,” she shakes her head, “I’m a mess right now.” 

She certainly looks it, a newborn strapped to her chest in a carrier and a toddler barely holding on, trying to bolt every chance he gets. “No worries,” you’re quick to reply, glancing down at the large sign and balloons in her hand. 

You pause, reading and re-reading it over again. Nicolas Arias. There is no doubt you could be reading it wrong and when you get a glance at the toddler again, your stomach churns. He is a spitting image of Nick…your Nick. You carefully fold up the sign and go to turn when you hear the little boy shout, “DADDY!” at the top of his lungs. 

Why you glance back, you don’t know but your chest aches when you see him, his smile blinding as he bends down to pick up the little boy. “Hi buddy,” you hear him shout, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. He looks back at the woman, his eyes softening at the bundle against her chest, “and hello Princess,” he coos, “nice to meet you, I’m your daddy.” 

The tears spring to your eyes, and you quickly suck in a deep breath when his eyes lift to meet yours. He pauses, a deer caught in the headlights, you can see it, the raw panic on his face. Before you turn and walk away, you’d be damned if you were going to ruin this happy homecoming. While Nick is a fucking cheating bastard, and you would certainly be sending an anonymous letter to his wife later, they didn’t deserve this today. 

All around you is love and reunions, but instead, you just feel sick. The parking lot is jam-packed and you look around before stepping onto the road, letting out a gasp when someone grabs your arm and quickly pulls you back into a broad chest. A truck roars out of the lot, a handful of sailors inside shouting about freedom and shots. 

“Fuck,” you turn, taking in the man before you, he’s gorgeous; with blonde hair and eyes that look like the sea after a storm, “thank you,” you whisper, taking a step back when you realize you’re still in his arms. 

He smiles, but it doesn’t really meet his eyes, “not a problem, darling,” his accent surprises you, maybe Texan with a slight twang. He points down at the sign crumbled in your hand, “Didn’t find who you were looking for?” 

“Oh,” you glance at the sign, tossing it into the nearby trash can, “I found him alright. Along with his wife, newborn, and toddler.” 

He grimaces, “What a fucking turd waffle.” 

You can’t help the giggle that escapes, “a turd waffle?” 

He grins, “if the shoe fits.” Suddenly you notice a figure rushing towards you and you groan, turning quickly away mumbling obscenities under your breath. 

“Sweetheart,” Nick runs to your side, pulling you in for a hug, but you stay stiff as a board. “I can explain everything.” You step out of his arms putting some distance between you, the mystery man steps up behind you, towering over you like a looming bodyguard. 

“I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other Nick,” you wrap your arms around your waist, “seeing you married with two kids was enough of an explanation for me.” 

Nick stares down the man behind you, “Hey buddy, can you give us some privacy?” 

“Lieutenant Commander Seresin to you, Ensign,” he stands straighter, Nick pailing as he recognizes the name, “and I’ll leave when the lady tells me to.” 

“Please don’t go,” you whisper stepping back closer into his arms, one of his massive hands resting on your waist, strong and sure. 

“Seems like she’s made up her mind,” he grins, confidence coming off him in waves. “Why don’t you go back to your family and save this young lady the trouble of putting up with any more of your bullshit.” 

“I’ll go when I’m good and ready,” Nick takes a step closer, reaching for your arm, “sweetheart you just have to let me explain.” A wall of man blocks his path, “get the fuck out of my way,” Nick seethes, “I want to talk to my girl.” 

You step around the Lieutenent, “I’m not your girl anymore, you’re married for Christ's sake, with TWO kids,” you hold up two fingers for emphasis. 

“It didn’t bother you before,” he shrugs, “why should it now?” 

“I didn’t fucking KNOW,” you shout, drawing attention from several others around you, “do you really think I’d be here standing like an idiot waiting for you if I knew you were married?! Do you really think I would be dating you or sleeping with you, if I had any idea you had a wife?!” 

Nick looks around at the onlookers before letting out a scoff, “I knew you were a whore. Looks like you already replaced me, ain’t that right? And with someone of higher rank.” He laughs, “Keep this up baby and you can fuck an Admiral before the year ends.” 

“Stand down, Ensign Arias,” your protector steps closer, his jaw clenched, “go back to your family and leave now. Before I court-martial your ass.” 

“What the hell for?” Nick shouts. 

“Harassing civilians, disgracing the uniform, threatening an Officer, the list goes on and on.” Nick pales before he spits at the ground. 

“You can have her,” he glares at you, “wasn’t that good of pussy anyways.” The Lieutenant takes a threatening step closer, and you grab his arm while Nick scurries away like a rat. 

You both watch him walk away before you let go of his arm, “thank you,” you whisper, feeling the tears well up in your eyes, “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here.” 

“He really is a turd waffle,” he mumbles and you burst out laughing, the tears spilling down your cheeks. He hesitantly lifts a hand, brushing the tears off your cheeks, and you lean into his palm closing your eyes, his thumb brushing back and forth. “Jake,” he mumbles and you slowly open your eyes, blinking at him, “My name is Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin. 

You tell him your name and he repeats it back, the words like honey on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you,” he repeats it again making you shiver. “Would you like to join me for a drink? I know this really great Navy bar called the Hard Deck, and I was going to meet up with a few of my fellow officers and their families.” 

“One question,” you step closer, and his hand drops from your cheek, moving to your waist as he whispers anything under his breath. “Are you married or currently seeing anyone? No secret mistresses or lovers I should be concerned about?” 

He grins, tugging you by the hooks in your denim jeans closer his lips ghosting over yours, “no, ma’am, I’m a one-woman type of man. And right now,” he presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss, stars exploding across your vision, before pulling back, “I’d like that woman to be you.” 

“Fine, I’ll go with you, but only on one condition,” you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and closer to your lips. 

“What’s that?” he smiles, all the way up to his eyes, glancing down at you like you’re the only one around for miles. 

“You do that again,” and he does. 

A/N: Comments are appreciated, and yes this is me begging.

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Angst, hurt, slight mentions of toxic family, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 6.2K

A/N: I'm sorry in advance for any heart ache

Chapter 6: Living for a Sunny day

“Who was that?” Sofia asks. Rafe just stands there watching you walk off, looking around meeting the eyes of everyone watching. A hand lands on his chest, the voice swatting the haze away in his mind. “Rafe, who was that?” He looks down to look at Sofia, he notices how her eyes don’t have the same golden flecks yours do. He searches her face trying to find something that would chase the thoughts of you out of his mind. Coming up short Rafe takes her hand off his chest, moving out of her grasp. “I gotta go.”

“Are you serious right now? You’re just going to run off to some other chick?” Sofia’s words rub Rafe the wrong way. Couldn’t she see that she was the other chick not the other way around. “Yeah I am. She’s not the other chick you are.” Rafe starts to chase after you, the bodies of people making it hard to get through. When he gets to the parking lot he can’t find your car. Knowing that you are probably home he gets in his truck, racing out to the street. The car ride was filled with silence, the only noise coming from his thoughts that won’t stop.

How could you fuck this up? This is why you are worthless, can’t even stop yourself from being stupid. Worthless that’s all he is. Not enough for his fathers love, his sisters, now you, he will never be good enough. His fist slaps on the wheel, the coke in his system fueling the rage he already feels inside him. The lights of the streets are just blurs due to how fast he’s going, not caring that he could be pulled over. He needs to see you. At least explain to you why he did it. You have to understand right? 

Tanny Hill comes into view, all the lights are out making him more nervous. Getting inside the house he doesn’t hear anything but your car is still in the driveway. The walk to the front door to the second floor where your room is takes forever. At the top of the stairs he can hear some music, so faint that it barely caught his attention. He knocks on the door then again when you don’t answer. “Please open the door. We need to talk.” Silence. The only sign of life on the other side coming from your music. Rafe jiggles the door knob, trying to force his way in. “Come on sunny open the fucking door.” Nothing.

Rafe’s fist starts pounding on the door, the other still trying to open it. “Open this fucking door right not. I swear to god I will knock it off its hinges.” His voice is shouting now, his side making contact with the door. “It didn’t even mean anything. Are you really going to just ignore me over something so fucking stupid.” The more you ignore him, the harder it is for him to keep his cool. He kicks the door only stopping once he hears you crying. Placing his forehead on the door he takes a deep breath. “Please, baby. Just…just open the door.” 

On the other side you are curled in a ball, hands over your ears trying to block the noise out. Flashbacks to when your father would yell at you come rushing back. Every argument playing in your head only makes the tears worse. “Please.” It sounds so pathetic, the pleading in his voice. He’s like a little kid again, begging his dad to love him, to show him any ounce of compassion after his mother died. “Please don’t leave me Sunny.” He stands there for a few minutes, waiting to see if you will finally open the door for him. When he realizes that you won't, he breaks.

Tears well in his eyes as he backs up, going to his room to regulate himself. The door slams behind him, shaking the frame. Rafe’s pacing around, his hand digging into his head, slapping himself to get out of this. Nothing works. The tears are now falling, staining his cheeks before he has a chance to wipe them away. Walking further into the room he notices something on his bedside table, it was empty this morning just a picture frame on it. Walking close he sees it’s the necklace. He picks it up, the burning in his eyes and throat intensifying. He slams the necklace back down, grabbing the frame and throwing it against the far wall. “FUCK!” He goes around the room, grabbing whatever he can just to throw it. Thinking if he can’t let the anger out everything will be fine in the morning.

The room is a mess. Broken glass liters the floor, stabbing into the soles of his shoes but he doesn’t care. He lays in his bed, the same sheets for when you both slept there. They still smell like you. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it to his chest to get some comfort in you. Knowing that what he did would change the relationship for the worst. He falls asleep wishing that the night never happened, that he just waited for you instead of going to the bonfire by himself. No matter how much he wished for it, nothing will change. In the morning he will still be the failure he always was.

You wait until you can’t hear anything from the other end of the hall. Slowly getting up you start to pack a bag. Throwing whatever you can find into it and quietly leave your room. You sneak past his room down the stairs willing your footsteps to be quiet enough so he won’t hear. Making it out of the house you race to your car, starting it and leaving before he notices that you left. You can’t go back home, you still haven’t talked to your parents after you said you won’t be given them money. The texts you sent were left unanswered letting you know that you don’t have a place there anymore. If you’re honest you only think they kept talking to you because you would give them everything they asked. 

You just drive not really knowing where you will go. You guess that sleeping in the car would be fine but you would rather not have cops knocking on your window and running off to tell Ward. The next thought is Sarah. She’s most likely at John B’s with the rest of the pogues. Before you even know it you are parked in front of his house, then out the car and knocking on the door. If anyone saw the tears on your face they didn’t mention it, welcoming you with open arms.

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The sun creeps in through the windows, beaming down on your face waking you up. The first thing you notice is the lumpy couch you were sleeping on. Then the dull headache forming behind your eyes, dehydrated from all of the crying. Finally you hear their voices, all of them talking in the kitchen as John B makes the gang something to eat. Your body just lays there, not wanting to get up and face the music. Last night memories flooding into your thoughts. Rafe’s hands all over Sofia, the way he agreed to leave with her. As if he wasn’t just in you a few hours before. Like he didn’t tell you how much he hated the thought of you with someone else. It’s his game isn’t it? He makes a girl feel special and once he’s done with her he’s onto the next. You weren’t any different from them. Why you thought he changed will just continue to be a mystery.

“Sleeping Beauty is up.” JJ’s voice carries into the living room. “Dude shut up.” Kie swats the backside of his head. “Damn my bad.” JJ replies while rubbing where she hit him. You sit up on the couch bringing your legs to your chest as the group makes their way over to you. “Hi.” your voice is weak, it doesn’t even sound like you. They all sit around you, Sarah handing you a glass of water and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Sorry, don't really have much around the place.” You just smile at the Routledge boy thanking him for the food.

“What happened?” Sarah asks. “No, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Everyone just looks at you, sharing glances. “Well, something had to have happened. You came here at 2 o’clock in the morning crying and asking me if you could stay the night something had to happen.” Sarah urges not wanting to press but she’s worried about you. She’s never seen you that upset, the closest time being after a fight with your parents. Even then you refused to talk about it. JJ swings an arm around the back of the couch, his hands rubbing your shoulder. “Come on princess, you can tell us what happened. We don’t bite… unless you are into that.” He winks at you. “Dude really.” Pope chimes in, nudging JJ’s leg with his foot. “What did Rafe do something again?” You scoff “What makes you think it was Rafe?” You argue the words not convincing you as they hit your ears. “Well, do I have to remind you about what happened at the country club? It’s like you two are seeing each other or something.” The room gets quiet, everyone expecting your answer but it never comes. “Oh my God please don’t tell me you slept with Rafe” Sarah asks. 

You shrink into yourself trying to hide from their prying eyes. “I didn’t think you’d get this far you know I just thought it was like something fun then it just got better. He just seemed like he actually cared about me. It’s stupid I just thought that it was different, you know?” No one knows what to say. Rafe’s history is no secret, the whole island knows how much of a womanizer he is. They just never expected for you to fall into the same trap, especially after seeing how it never worked. “What did he do?” Kie asks. “I caught him making out with some girl at the bonfire last night.” The room gets silent again. They share looks trying to find something to say to make you feel better. “So you are telling me that after the scene he caused at the club he still fucked this up. Fucking dumbass.” 

“Dude” Everyone yells. “Jayj really? That wasn’t necessary.” Kie says as she sandwiches herself between you and JJ. Putting distance between you and his dumb comments. “What? We are all thinking about it. Like come on, he finally gets a chance with her and he goes and hookup with another girl. It’s just so stupid.” He’s right it is stupid. A tear falls down your face and you wipe it. “Jayj is right, it’s stupid.” Sarah sits on the other side of you, pulling you into a hug. “It’s not stupid. Your feelings are never stupid.” Sarah rationalizes, wanting you to know it’s okay to let yourself feel something.

“He just seemed so different. Everything he was saying and doing made me really think he felt something for me.” You pause, taking a sip of water to drown the lump in your throat. “For fucks sake we were with each other for days. I told him things I haven’t told other people.” A sob breaks your sentence. Your emotions winning over causing you to break down in Sarah’s arms. “I know. He always seemed different around you. I’ve never seen him chase a girl the way he chased you.” Kie thinks she’s helping but it only hurts worse. If others saw a difference then what changed? Why would he act like he wanted more only to take that away. To break you in a way no one has managed.

“Want to know what I think?” Pope breaks the silence. “I don’t think you having feelings for him is stupid. You took his actions as him caring for you, there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s the stupid one. He’s going to have to live with the fact that he lost the one person who actually gave him a chance.” He stops for a second, finally looking at you. “He’s going to live with that forever. You are going to find someone better and never think about him again.” You smile are him, the tears blurring out his features. You can make out a shy smile, telling he’s nervous for voicing his thoughts. “Thank you Pope.” You laugh, wiping your tears. 

Pope is definitely the smartest out of everyone in this room. But he just found one thing he was wrong about. It doesn’t matter what pain you are feeling at this moment. It can be ten years down the line and you will still think about this. Every memory of him will always find its way to creep back in. His smile will forever be imprinted in your memories. Remembering all the times you were the cause of it. No matter how much you hate Rafe, a piece of you will always love him, and will always miss him. 

You pick at the food as you listen to them talk. Happy that they are finally letting it go. When you finish you take your plate to the sink, giving it a rinse before setting it down. “Hey want to go out to the marsh? We can go swimming and have a few beers.” John B shouts out to you. It doesn’t sound like a bad plan. It could be good to go out and actually have fun with some friends. “Sure why not?” The group all cheer, getting up to get ready. You borrowed a bikini from Sarah since you didn’t want to go back to the house. There’s slight bruising on your neck, the hickies Rafe left now starting to fade. You brush your fingers over them before throwing on some clothes, letting your hair down to cover them up. 

All of you make your way out to the dock, hopping into the boat and sailing off. The weather was beautiful today. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect, hot but not to the point of suffocating you. “How many beers do you think I can down before dropping off the side of the boat?” JJ laughs, pouring beer into his mouth. Most of it didn’t make it in but it's the thought that counts. “Dude come on. You're going to waste all the beers before we can even drink them.” John B shouts. The waters ripples as the boat keeps pushing further into the marsh. It’s been a while since you’ve been out here.

The last time had to be with some friends in high school, yet again even that was very few. It was hard to get time alone with friends when you were working all the time. Everyday was school, work, homework, and sleep. On the rare occasions that you did have a day off it was usually spent helping out your parents. Cleaning up around the house while they were out doing god knows what. Or worse having to help your dad down from whatever high he was on as your mom ignores it. Thinking if she doesn’t pay attention then it isn’t a problem. 

Looking around at the group in front of you is refreshing. There’s not a single person here who wants something from you or expects you to be perfect. They just want you to be you. “Whatcha thinking about.” Sarah grabs your attention as she sits next to you, handing you a beer. “Nothing really. Just glad to have all of you.” She smiles at you, leaning back a little to let the sun warm her face. “He’s an idiot you know.” You both know who she’s talking about, yet neither one of you dare to say his name. “It’s okay Sarah.” It’s all you can really say, nothing else comes to mind. “No, I mean it. He spent the past year trying to get with you and now look at this. You always seemed to make him better. It’s a shame he let that go.” You just stare at her, words failing to form on your tongue. “Plus having you as a sister-in-law would have been pretty cool.”

You both giggle, the tension from your body leaving. It would have been cool being a part of her family. Maybe not with Ward he likes you but he would probably want better for the older Cameron. The rest of the family had no issues welcoming you in. It would have been nice to be a part of a family who actually cares about you, you still are but it’s different. The boat comes to a stop, JJ throws the anchor overboard to keep the boat in place. “Alright everyone, gather around this is your fun guide speaking. Today we have a very special activity for a very special guest. Today we will be getting smashed and partying till we drop.” JJ shouts, throwing off his clothes before jumping in the water.

“Hey smartass! Sorry to break it to you but we definitely don’t have enough beer to get smashed and we aren’t throwing a party.” John B shouts back at JJ. “Come one man. Can’t you just let me live my life. Trying to set a mood here.” They all laugh at the blonde boy ignoring his complaints. “Gross set the mood with someone else Jayj.” Sarah jokes sticking her tongue out at him. The rest of the afternoon was spent like that.

All of you joke around as you swim and drink, relaxing for the day with each other. By the time the sun is starting to set you realize you haven’t thought about Rafe once. Well now you are but it’s good that you can live your life without having a thought of him for a while. Everyone is back on the boat now, going back due to the lack of food that was brought. By lack of food you mean the no food that was brought.  The boat ride to Kie’s parents restaurant wasn’t long. All of you quite, too hungry to even speak to one another.

John B parks the boat and you all hop out, walking up the dock to get through the back of the restaurant. “Hey mom.” Kie calls out. “Hey sweetie.” Anna answers from behind the counter. “Let me guess free food?” She eyes the rest of you behind Kie. “I mean it's going to be thrown out at the end of the night. This way we aren't wasting more food than necessary.” Anna just looks at her for a second. She sighs making her way towards the kitchen. “Mike, fire up some food for Kie and her friends please.” SHe turns back to all of you. “Go on and sit. I’ll bring it out once it’s ready.” You all cheer, finding empty seats and sitting in them.

You are all chatting when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your shoulders tense for a moment, scared that it’s Rafe. But once you turn around you see that it’s Topper. “Hey.” He says. “Uh hey Topper what's up?” You ask, confused on why he’s talking to you. Your interactions with him consist of when him and Sarah were dating and the few times you ran into him when he’s with Rafe. Besides that the two of you don’t talk. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second. Privately.” He looks at the group and then at you. 

“Why do you need to talk to her?” Kie asks, squinting her eyes at him. “It’s okay Kie.” You reassure her then look back at the boy. He looks so out of place standing there all awkwardly. “Yeah we can go out the back.” You say while getting up. Topper follows you as you make your way to the outdoor seating area. “How are you doing? You know after last night.” He asks. You just roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing great. Realized I was making a fool of myself but doing good.” He winces at your words. He watched as you left crying last night, then watched as Rafe came running by a few minutes later.

It wasn’t till later on in the night he really found out what happened. Him and Kelce sharing a look once they realized that their earlier conversation actually had an impact on Rafe. Topper actually felt bad for you. He may not have known you well but he did know how sweet you were. When him and Sarah were dating she would always rave about you. Rafe did too but it was always underlined with some infatuation with you. But the way he spoke about you at the bonfire was different then before, he was defensive over you as if he really cared about you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s where he ran off to.” You don’t want to hear the excuses, tired of being lied to. “It’s okay you don’t have to defend him.” Topper cuts you off before you can say anything else. “I’m not trying to defend him, I swear. I just thought he went off to do lines of coke or something. He was literally telling us about you before he went off. I really didn’t know.” It seems like he’s telling the truth, he doesn’t have a reason to lie. “It doesn’t matter. He did what he did and nothing will change it.” Your arms go to hug yourself, needing some comfort. 

“He was looking for you earlier. He’s been running around the whole island trying to find you.” Toppers words short circuit your brain. He was looking for you? “Why?” your eyes are trained to the ground not wishing that the ground will swallow you up. “He wants to talk I guess. Said that you don’t have the full story or something like that.” You scoff. “Full story? I caught him making out with a girl just hours after we were together. Just after he told me he doesn’t like seeing me with other guys. He just wanted me to be fully his while he could go do whatever he wanted. I don’t need to hear his excuses and you can tell him that.” 

As you walk away Topper calls out to you one last time. “At least let him know you’re alive. He’s been freaking out because all his calls go straight to voicemail and you aren’t answering his texts. He fucked up, I get that but he’s genuinely scared that you’re hurt. I’ve never seen him like this.” You pause and look at him. “I didn’t have my charger with me last night. My phone is probably dead right now.” With that you go back into the restaurant finding that the food has already been brought out.

You sit down at the table, everyone watching as you start to eat your burger. “What did he want?” Pope asks, sipping his water. “Take a wild guess.” You snap back, inhaling sharply once you hear your tone. “Sorry I didn’t mean to be rude.” Pope reaches a hand over the table, grabbing yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “It’s okay. We won’t talk about it again.” Their conversation drowns out, your thoughts too loud to hear what is going on in the outside world. You didn’t even realize you had finished your food or that everyone was waiting on you. 

“Why don’t we head back? It’s getting late.” Sarah suggests, her eyes watching you as you gather your things without a word.Throughout the whole process of getting back you are quiet, Topper's words still ringing in your head. He doesn’t truly care that you were gone, he only cared that he couldn’t lie his way out of this mess. Rafe knows that this is over, that last night was the breaking point of the relationship. That’s why he’s scared, he’s scared because nothing will dig him out of the hole he made for himself.

“You can stay the night again if you want. I really don’t mind, I can even kick JJ out of the other room so you can have a bed.” You look at John B as you walk towards the house. “It’s okay really. Ward, Rose, and Wheezie are getting back tomorrow anyway. It would be weird if I wasn’t home when they got there.” There would be questions if you weren’t there, Wheezie would hound you until you told her. As much as it hurts, you could never bring her or the rest of them into this mess. Not only for the safety of your job but more importantly for Rafe. If they found out what he did they would just chastise him further. He may have done bad things but deep down he’s not a bad person.

“If that’s what you want then okay. But call us if you need anything.” He pulls you into a hug, letting go and walking into the house. You go inside and grab your bag, saying a quick goodbye to everyone and heading to your car. Once inside you just sit there, willing yourself to start the engine and drive back to Tanny. After what seems like forever you gain the courage to finally start the car, if only it had the same plan. You twist the key, the car starts to make a weird noise. It sounds like it's starting, the rumbling of the engine goes, then it stops to make a clunking noise. “You have got to be kidding me.” You mumble under your breath, resting your forehead on the wheel. You try your key again and the same thing happens, only this time louder and worse. 

A knock on your window startles you, jumping back and grabbing your chest and you see that it's JJ. You open the door and he stands there leaning on it and the roof of the car. “Having car trouble princess?” Funny you think. “No shit sherlock.” You mumble. You guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been saving for a new car. The money can now go into fixing this hunk of junk. “Come on, I can give you a ride. I heard you tell John B you should be home for tomorrow.” He grabs you to drag you out the car, getting your bag and slamming the car door. “Really?” “My bad the door just slipped.” He raises his hands up in surrender.

JJ walks over to his bike, handing you his helmet and getting on. You take it from him, placing it on and clumsy hopping on the back. “Gotta hold on to me tight unless you want to fall off.” Your arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him really tight, probably more than needed. “Jesus gonna kill me with that grip. Relax a little would ya.” You do as he says. Once he is satisfied enough he starts the bike and is racing off.

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Rafe has been freaking out all day. He woke up this morning and ignored the mess in his room, going straight to your door. He knocked, waiting a second before knocking again. “Sunny it’s me. Can we please talk?” He tries to open the door, happy to find that it wasn;t locked like last night. Relief washed over him as he opened it up, glad you finally came to your senses. That all vanishes when he sees that the room is empty. Your bed was slightly messy but the covers were still fully on so you hadn’t slept there. There were a few articles of clothing that were tossed around. Everything was in place, the only thing missing was you. 

At first he thought you were just down stairs, already starting your day but when he got down there he couldn’t find you. Looking out the front door he sees your car is also gone. That’s when the panic startles to fully set in. You were gone, just picked up your things and left. There’s an ache that starts to form in his chest, his breathing getting shorter as his shaky hands get his phone to dial your number. The first ring goes through, the second cut short by your voicemail. “Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone right now. Text me if you need me, bye!” Your voice plays through his phone speakers. “Fuck!”

He starts to spam you, every call going straight to voicemail, his texts going unanswered. He’s been driving around the whole island looking for you and nothing. Every bad thought starts to race in his head. What if you got hurt? There’s creeps out there, if you left in the middle of the night they could have gotten to you. Or worse, you got in some accident and no one knows where you are. You could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Every new theory sends him down a deeper spiral. All his thoughts pointing to you being dead and truly leaving him. He can handle you hating him because he would know you’re safe. But he can’t handle you being gone, he can’t go through this again.

A water drop hits Rafe’s check, then another, a sob making its way through. He’s pacing around the house, tears freely falling. His fear of losing you brings back the memories of his mom. Watching day after day as she got worse, the doctors not doing anything to save her. He’s eight all over again begging his mom to not leave him, for her to get better, singing her the lullaby she sang to him. She was the first person to ever love him, to show him that he was worth something. Once she died she became the last one. Ward blamed him for everything, the fact that he had his mothers features making Ward’s hatred for him worse.Wheezie and Sarah never treated him badly but he knew they were afraid of him. 

When Rose came into the picture things took a turn for the worse. He hated that his dad could move on so quickly, as if his mother meant nothing to him at all. Rose tried to be nice but shortly stopped after realizing that Rafe would never like her. Everyone on the island either hated him or was afraid of him, no one took a chance on him. That was until you. You came into his life with that beautiful smile and kind words. You turned the world around every time you talked to him. Never once showing fear or disgust like everyone else. It was like he wasn’t Rafe Cameron the island's basket case, he could be who he wanted with you. But he’s fucked it all up.

His pity party was cut short when the sounds of a motorcycle made its way into the house. He rushes to the front door swinging it open to be greeted by the sight of you on the back of JJ Maybanks motorcycle. His blood runs hot as he watches you get off handing him the helmet and hugging him. Rafe can’t hear what’s being said but he doesn’t like how close the two of you are right now. Hypocritical but he doesn’t care. He watches as you turn around the smile dropping from your face when you see him. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, bile threatening to leave him.

As you get closer you just stare at the floor walking past him into the house without a word. “Sunny.” Rafe’s voice shakes as he calls for you. “Don’t call me that!” You shout at him continuing to walk to the stairs. “Please can we just talk.” He pleads as he follows you. “There’s nothing to talk about Rafe. What’s done is done.”You look at him over your shoulder, he looks so fragile. “Please baby. I need you to talk to me. FUCK! Yell for all I care, please.” He sobs, hands grabbing your arm as you try to  walk up the steps. “I can’t keep going on like this. I-' You turn around to face him. “You what? Huh? You thought ‘hey I had enough of her time to fuck some other slut’ Or was it ‘I have her wrapped around my finger. She’s so dumb that she’ll let me fuck other girls.’” You didn’t realize how close you got.

You're practically staring up at him. “No, I swear” His eyes red as tears streak down his checks. “Fuck! Why can’t you just listen to me! I’m trying…” “You’re trying? Are you fucking kidding me? So let me get this straight, you fuck me practically every day as id I’m this sex toy for you. Then you go out and make out with these other girls as if you weren��t just cumming in me. If thats you trying, you fucking me and others is you trying?” Tears well up in your eyes and your voice cracks at the end. Rafe starts pacing around with his arms wrapping around his head. He’s mumbling but nothing is audible. “If that’s you trying then it’s a good thing it’s over. I deserve better than that.” This stops Rafe in his tracks. He starts walking to you but stops before he can reach. “Please don’t leave me.” It’s barely a whisper but you still heard it. 

Your eyes widen and mouth drops open but nothing comes out. You stare at him as his hands cover his eyes. Wiping away any tears like if you saw them you would see how weak he was. How weak you made him. “I was scared okay. I’m scared you will leave me like everyone. I- I can’t stand not being around you. Don’t start.” Your mouth shuts, words dying on your tongue. “You make everything better. I have these thoughts sometimes and” a sob cuts his words “they stopped when you were around. All the ‘I’m to good enough’, ‘you’re a failure’, all that shit just fucking vanished. You’re like sunshine, everything just seems brighter around you.”

He takes a deep breath. “That day at the country club when I saw you flirting with Maybank I saw red. I just thought you were going to see that you don’t need me that you were better off with someone else. Everyone has left me but you leaving would break me. I was scared and I did what I always do I fucked up. I pushed you away so you can’t hurt me. I didn’t think that you would care, I swear.” He grab your arm pulling you towards him. Rafe’s arms wrapping around your waist as he hurries his head in in junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Your right hand raises to rub his head, the left rest on his bicep. 

“You’re right you didn’t think. You really hurt me.” You starts to pull away from him, Rafes eyes dropping to watch his empty hands. “I thought I meant more to you. I told you we needed to communicate and you didn’t. I just” “I’m trying to. This is me trying to tell you.” The blue eyes that you loved looked so broken and empty. A matching set to yours. “It’s a little too late. I don’t know how to trust you right now. Rafe I told you things that I’ve always kept a secret. I thought it was obvious that I always cared about you. Yet all I’m given in return is deceit, I caught you making out with another girl. Did you even mean the things you said? I just need sometime.” 

The sandals you wore echo along the floor as you back up. His left hand catches you before you could get too far. “This can’t be it, please Sunny. I fucked up I know. I let Kelce get into my head and I spiraled, I know that. But please give me a second chance…please. Today I thought you were hurt or dead. You scared that shit out of me today and I couldn’t stand the thought of never being able to see you again. Please we can work this out.” You met his eyes, tears welling up. “I can’t do this right now Rafe. This really hurts me, don’t make it harder.”

“Nothing I say will change your mind will it?” Rafe lets you go and walks away leaving you behind. “Do you know how scared I was last night? You scream, smashing my door, and throwing stuff around is scary Rafe. All I could think about was my dad, I didn’t like when he got like that. I won’t take it from you either.” Your words stop him in his tracks but you don’t stick around to watch. Tears hit the floor, a tiny sob leaving your lips as you make your way up the stairs. Making it in your room, you curl up into bed crying until you finally fall asleep. Wishing that the past two days never happened and this was just some bad nightmare.

[bullet-prooflove]

5000 Follower Celebration: Her Name Was Lola - Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

2015 - Mitch asks you not to get married.

The One That Got Away - Mitch has been thinking about you.

Love Song - Mitch doesn't expect to see you in his bar after all this time.

Clean - Mitch asks you why you're back in town.

Home - Mitch gets an answer to his question.

Sunshine (NSFW) - You've always been the sunshine in Mitch's life.

Georgia Peach (NSFW) - You get a little territorial when one of Mitch's exes comes sniffing around.

Rhinestones (NSFW) - Mitch reminds you of the night you met.

You don’t realise Mitch is married. Not until his wife shows up while you’re covering the bar after one of you sets and tells you she’s looking for her husband Mitch Keller.

She’s a tall, red head with curves that would make a Kardashian jealous and wide doe eyes that flutter like Bambi. Her name is Lola and she is indeed a showgirl, one that he got hitched to during wild night in Vegas when he was so fucking high he tried to swim in the fish tank at the Bellagio.

He tells you all of this when he finds you sitting out back on the terrace, smoking a joint and contemplating whether to slash her tires or set fire to his truck.

“You promised me I’d be the only one you’d ever put a ring on.” You remind him as you blow out a stream of smoke from between your lips.

He understands the weight of that promise, how much it had cost you at the time to take that leap of faith with him. You’d been engaged when the two of you met, to a city council man who could provide you with a financial stability you’d never had known during your childhood in that trailer park. With Sean Albernacy, you had money, you had power, and you had security. You were also bored as fuck which is why you’d been warming Mitch’s bed since that night at the rodeo.

“Don’t marry him.” He’d begged you the week before your wedding, his thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek. “Let me be the only man that ever puts a ring on your finger.”

He had barely has two cents to rub together. He can’t offer you anywhere near what Albernacy can but he can offer you love, he can offer you passion, he can offer you a lifetime of fun and freedom because the two of you are cut from the same cloth. Both wild, adventurous, untamed.

“Tell me I’m the only girl you’ll ever marry.” You'd asked as his lips began to wander.

“Oh honey.” He had smiled as he'd guided you back into his lap. “You know you’re the only girl I’d ever let tie me down.”

You don’t turn up to your own wedding, you leave your soon to be husband standing at the alter while Mitch has his wicked way with you in a motel room out in Oklahoma City.

In the present Mitch takes off his cap and runs his hand through his hair as you blow out a smoke ring into the darkness.

“I fucked up.” He says finally as he places his cap back on his head. “I fucked up because I was fucked up and I’ve been trying to fix that. I didn’t expect her to turn up here…”

“Why the fuck did she turn up here?” You ask him, because women like that don’t just suddenly appear because they remember they have a husband. “Why the fuck are you even back on her radar?”

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this.” Mitch says, his voice a little rough as he rubs his palms over each other. It’s an anxious behaviour, one you are barely used to seeing because Mitch, he’s always calm, especially in the face of adversity.

“I don’t understand.” You say as he tilts his head towards you.

“I want to marry you.” Mitch says frankly. “And to do that I had to divorce her so I sent a P.I to serve her papers and she decided she wants a payout instead.”

“Oh.” You say as you take in this new revelation. It’s something the two of you have talked about in passing but it’s never been tangible, not until now. “How much does she want?”

“About half of what the casino is worth.” Mitch informs you as he adjusts his hat.

That’s his entire share, it’s an impossible amount of money. If he does that, if he cashes out to get those papers signed that’s everything he’s worked so hard for gone and you can’t stand the idea of that.

“Well she can go fuck herself…” You respond as you stub the remains of the joint into the ashtray.  “She doesn’t have to sign the papers for you to get a divorce especially since the two of you haven’t been together…”

“She’s threatening to drag it out.” He tells you as he rubs his palms over his weary features. “It could take years…”

“Then it takes years.” You say as you reach out and clasp his hand. “I’m not in a rush.”

“But I am.” He tells you, the expression on his face pained as he looks at you. “I don’t wait to wait any longer Sunny, I wasted so much time with all that stupid shit…”

He trails off then staring down at your hand, his thumb tracing over the space where a wedding ring should be.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. And all I want is to belong to you, for people to know that I’m yours and only yours. I want to love you, cherish you, obey you.” he says with a hint of humour, the edges of his mouth turning up. “I just want what we should have had all along.”

“We can still have that.” You tell him, the fingertips of your free hand chasing along the stubble of his jaw. “It just might take a little while to get there and that’s ok, there’s still a lot of fun we can have in the meantime.”

“I just want our happy ending Sunny.” He whispers as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I want to see you walk down that aisle in a pretty dress and promise myself to you before God and all our friends, I want them to celebrate our love, I want…”

He pauses because it hurts that he can’t give you those things right now, that he fucked up so badly that he can’t just go ahead and marry the woman he loves.

“We’ll get there Mitch.” You promise him, your palm coming to rest upon his heart so you can feel it beating underneath the tips of your fingers. “I promise you we will.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[atinylittlepain]

Crush On You

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

wordcount | 9K

a/n | hi folks, i come bearing part two of my hungry hearts series. she's long, okay? i'm sorry, the spirit of young joel possessed me what can i say. hope y'all enjoy this one, come tell me what you think in my inbox! also much love, much thanks to my trenchcoat brother @northernbluess for beta-reading this baby - love you, cousin

.....................................

“Well, well, look who has graced us with her presence. How’d you scare her out of hiding, Miller?”

“Oh, you know, black mail, extortion, a cattle prod.” Her scowl is lost on the pair as Mikey Donahue pulls Joel into a hug that’s more of a gruff back slap than anything else before promptly putting a beer in his hand. Meanwhile, she’s already regretting her decision to come along, trying to temper her grimace when Mikey hooks his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his side, grinning big and boozy down at her.

“Good to see you, big city. College suits you.” She has to laugh, seeing as Mikey didn’t have the time of day for her in high school and now he seems to be all too intent on laying the charm on thick.

“Thanks, Mikey, that’s real, uh, kind of you.” Before Mikey can reply with what she’s sure would be an equally charming remark, Joel curls his fingers in the neck of his t-shirt to pry him away from her, steering him further into the house.

“Alright, Mike, don’t scare her off, I just got her in the door. C’mon, man, I was promised a keg stand here.” All she gets from Joel is one more glance over his shoulder before she has been left entirely alone in a sea of her old classmates, with quite literally no escape route, considering she drove here in Joel’s rusted-out pick-up truck. 

She fields a few polite hellos, trying her best to move through the house as unnoticed as possible to get to the backyard and away from the smell of sweat and socially anxious bodies. Mercifully, there’s only a few people outside, couples all tangled up and people smoking around the edge of the pool. She forgot Mikey Donahue had a pool, though she supposes his parents were always notorious for their money and how visible they made it. 

This wasn’t her scene in high school, and it certainly isn’t now. Honestly, she’s not sure why she agreed to go with Joel in the first place. Oh yeah, Lisa-Anne. She kind of wishes she let Lisa-Anne have this one. 

“Hey, big city, there you are!” Mikey again, this time with no Joel to wrangle him off and away from her. He really is the quintessential all-american boy, home from some expensive east coast school that she can’t remember the name of, the whole blonde and blue eye thing, floppy and smiley like a well-bred golden retriever. She isn’t quite sure where this sudden chumminess with her has come from, they certainly didn’t run in the same circles as teenagers. But there isn’t much room to ponder it when he has once again slung his arm around her, his face so close to hers that she can smell the pabst blue ribbon he probably just tossed back. 

“Remind me what you’re studying all the way up in Chicago?” She knows for a fact that drunk Mikey has a temper, like, punching holes in the walls of his parents’ basement temper, so she makes no move to push him away, though she’d really like nothing more right now, trying and failing to create even an inch more of distance between them. Mikey doesn’t like that, dropping his arm to sling low around her waist, his fingers brushing against the bare skin between her jean shorts and where the fabric of her t-shirt has rucked up. 

“I’m studying English.” It comes out smaller and quieter than she would like it to, her throat tightening with something like panic at Mikey’s continued advancements. On his part, Mikey seems to find the whole thing amusing, tossing his head back in a hard laugh.

“That’s right, always a little bookworm, weren’t you? Tell me this, what the hell can you even do with an English degree, big city?” 

“You can do a lot of things with an English degree, Mike.” She’s just pissed off enough to finally yank out of his grip, sending him stumbling a few feet back, though he’s quick to recover with a laugh that sounds a little less friendly. 

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been home, big city, so I’m gonna do you a favor and pretend like that was just an accident.” 

“Hey, Mike, where’d you go, man?” She’s never been so happy to hear Joel’s voice in her life, she thinks, taking one more subtle step back as he sidles up next to Mikey and slings his arm around his shoulders. The light from inside the house casts shadows over Joel’s forearm where it’s draped against Mikey’s chest, and she can see the tendons jumping there from how hard he’s holding onto him, though it otherwise looks like a friendly embrace.

“Was just catching up with that one, Miller, so you can fuck right off, thanks.” And there it is. She feels herself wince with the bite of Mikey’s words, though Joel stays completely calm, a placid and altogether unsettling smile quirking up his mouth. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, man. Why don’t you leave the nice girl alone and go sleep it off before you do something you’re gonna regret?” She should probably do something other than stand there and stare at what is probably, definitely about to become a bad scene, a small crowd starting to form around them already. But she feels frozen where she stands, her eyes darting between Mikey’s sneer, and Joel’s ticking jaw. 

“And who’s gonna make me regret it, Miller, huh? You?” Because they are apparently still children, the crowd of people let out a low chorus of ooooh at that. And then for a moment it’s perfectly silent and perfectly still, Joel and Mikey staring each other down in a strange, half-way thing between an embrace and a strangle-hold. But by the time she blinks again, the both of them have swung, Mikey missing and Joel making clipped contact with the side of Mikey’s jaw. It’s just enough to send Mikey stumbling back and over the edge of the pool, and because he’s still got a fist clenched in Joel’s shirt, he gets yanked in after him. 

The crowd is quick to disperse after such a disappointing climax to their little spat, and while Mikey hauls himself out of the pool on the other side like a drowned cat, she finds herself offering out her hand to an equally sodden Joel. He drips all over her sneakers when he gets out, his flannel clinging to his torso, damp and darkened, something she tries not to pay too much attention to. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m not the one who just fell into a pool.” He drags a hand through his hair to get it slicked back out of his face, water still dripping off the tip of his nose as he looks at her. For a moment, she thinks that he looks small, a slight shiver in his shoulders, his eyes wide and his lashes all stuck together. He looks young, and he’s looking at her and only her. 

“I’m fine, Cher, let’s get out of here, huh? This party is dead anyways.” With a quick shake back of his shoulders and a thumb swiped under his nose, that familiar front has already slipped back into place. But she’s fine with it if it means they’re going to get out of this place, letting Joel lead the barreling way back through the house, his sneakers squeaking and squelching with every step. And even though he looks ridiculous, dripping all over the hardwood floors of Mikey’s parents’ house, he keeps his chin tilted up like he owns the place and his shoulders squared off as broad as his leanness will allow, easily parting a path for them through the crowd and out onto the front lawn. 

Neither of them speak when they get into the car, leaving the radio off as the engine splutters to life and they start winding their way back out of the wealthy neighborhood. She wants to say something, to thank him, to ask him if he’s sure that he’s okay, but she can’t find the right words, twisting her hands in her lap and watching the way the truck’s headlights spill out over the road. 

“So you’re really going for it out in Chicago?” His voice breaking the silence startles her out of her simmering mind, and when she glances over at him, he only offers her a quick side sweep of his eyes before he focuses back on the road. 

“You said you’re studying English?” He heard that? How long was he watching her and Mikey?

“Oh, um, yeah, yes.” She keeps her focus on the knuckles of his hand draped over the top of the steering wheel, a subtle tension and flexion to his grip.

“Gonna be a big shot writer, right? That was always your dream, wasn’t it?”

“When I was a kid, yeah. I don’t know, I’ll probably end up teaching, though I think my parents expect me to just wind up married and pregnant by the end of it anyways.” He snorts at that, shaking his head though he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“You were always writing stories, Cherry.”

“Uh-huh.” Honestly, she’s surprised he held onto that fact, the ratty composition books she carried around everywhere as a child, and well into her teens too. 

“Ever write one about me?” 

“Oh, sure.” 

“Wait, really?” His eyes finally dart over to her, eyebrows shot up his forehead and she has to bite back a laugh.

“Yeah, it was about your astonishing humility and non-existent ego.” She can barely get it out with a straight face, already dissolving into another laugh as Joel rolls his eyes at her dig. 

“Alright, alright, guess I walked into that one.” They’ve just pulled up in front of her house, Joel flicking off the headlights so her parents don’t notice. For once, she’s in no hurry to get away from him, an honestly foreign feeling as they sit in his truck. He’s still soaking wet, his hair starting to stick up every which way from how it’s drying, though he seems perfectly content to keep staring at her, something like a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“You don’t like being home very much, do you, Cherry?” 

“I really don’t, no.” She says it on a long sigh, no idea why she’s inclined to be honest with him like that. 

“How come?” 

“I feel like no one takes me seriously down here.” 

“I do.”

“Joel.”

“What? I do.”

“How can that possibly be true when you still call me a name that came from me snorting soda out of my nose?” 

“Okay, maybe originally it came from that, but that’s not why I call you it now, not really.”

“Please enlighten me then, why do you call me that?” His brow furrows for a moment, like he’s choosing his words carefully, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally answers.

“Because– because I just do, okay? But I do take you seriously, for the record.” She leans her head back on the seatrest, tilting her chin to look at him where he has his arm hanging over the steering wheel, his full body leaning and twisting toward her.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and I’m gonna want a signed copy of your first book.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher. I probably won’t read it, but I reckon it’ll be worth something when you get all famous and shit.”

“Lovely, Joel, thanks so much for that.” He shrugs, though his gaze stays steady with hers, and it happens again, that softening around the edges, that kid she remembers. And again, it’s gone in a flash, Joel suddenly leaning toward her in an unexpected way. And, well, she reacts before she can really think.

“Jesus! What the fuck, Cher?” He has bodily recoiled from her back into the driver’s side, his palm cupping his cheek where she just landed a hard smack with the flat of her hand. 

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck? What the hell was that, Joel?”

“I don’t– I thought we were having a– a nice moment!” She goes to open the passenger side door, but Joel is quick to reach over and shut it again like a petulant child, eliciting a bitter laugh from her.

“We were until you pulled that shit. I’m not one of your little housewives that you can do whatever you want with.” This time, he doesn’t try to stop her when she clambers out of the truck, though he isn’t quite finished yet. 

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! This ain’t playing fair!” She quickly shushes him before he starts to wake up half the neighborhood with his exclamations, only staying close enough to the car so she can whisper yell back at him.

“I’m not playing, Joel. Do me a favor and just stay away from me, why don’t you?”

…

While Sarah may not be the strongest batter, which is okay because Joel is working with her on it most afternoons, she makes for a mean third baseman, though part of him secretly wishes she played shortstop more often. And though he’s usually busy shouting reminders and tips at her from the bleachers, Joel is a bit preoccupied today watching something else, or someone else is more like it. 

He’s never been so pissed at chain link fencing in his life for obscuring his view of her, standing in front of the bleachers with her arms crossed and her hip cocked out as she watches the game from behind sunglasses and a ball cap. But he’s also never been more grateful for the Austin swelter because it means that she’s in a tank top and jean shorts, and he’s pretty sure his mind is starting to short-circuit because it looks to him like Cherry picked up some tattoos in the last seventeen years. He can’t tell what they are from this distance, something wrapped over her right shoulder and down her bicep, and, fuck him, something on the top of her right thigh. So maybe he’s craning his neck a little to try to make out what the ink is, and maybe he should be paying more attention to the game, because when there’s suddenly some sort of scuffle on the field between the umpire and one of Sarah’s coaches, he has no clue what he missed. 

“That was an out, are you kidding me? She tagged her!” He’s sitting close enough to third that he’s pretty sure it’s Ellie, at least he thinks that was her name, who the umpire and the coach are arguing over whether Sarah got her out or not before she stepped on third. Yeah, definitely Ellie, because here comes Cherry from the bleachers on the other side. 

“Her foot was on the base when she tagged her, that wasn’t an out!” The umpire looks at Cherry with an amount of exasperation that tells Joel they’ve interacted before. Cherry, meanwhile, has her cap off and her sunglasses slanted down her nose to look at the ump with all the kindness of a parole officer.

“Ma’am please let us handle this and return to the bleachers.” He’s not sure why he decides to get involved, it’s not like he actually saw what happened. But the combination of it being Sarah who either did or didn’t get Ellie out and his own small desire to get a little closer to Cherry, regardless of the context, has him up off the bleachers and hooking his fingers through the chain link fence. 

“I’m pretty sure it was an out, I had a better view of it than you did, Cher.” Judging by the way she scoffs and shakes her head, he probably shouldn’t have called her that, though there isn’t much time to ponder that when she’s walking over to him and getting as up in his face as she can with the thin mesh of chain link separating them. 

“Don’t Cher me, Joel.”

“Mom, please, it’s fine, I’m pretty sure she got me before I tagged up.” Ellie and Sarah both look pretty ready for this situation to be over, huffing and rolling their eyes at their parents’ strange display. 

“Els, you are not out, okay? You’re gonna stay on third and the game is gonna get going again–”

“Always were a sore loser.” It just slips out, and it isn’t even true. He was the sore loser, and he knows it, and judging by the way Cherry whips back around to glare at him, he has just incurred her admittedly deserved wrath. 

“Oh, that is real rich coming from you, Joel Miller, you are–”

“Alright, folks, we don’t have time for this and I’m going to have to ask you both to wait in the parking lot while we finish this game.”

“What?” They say it at nearly the same time to the umpire, who just shakes his head at them and points toward the parking lot next to the ball field. 

“Both of you, out of here, or I’m going to disqualify both of your girls from playing.” Well, really no arguing with that, especially not when Sarah and Ellie are giving them both pleading looks from behind the umpire. Cherry doesn’t give him another look, simply mutters an apology to the umpire before heading off toward the parking lot. And all he can do is sheepishly follow behind her with his own apology and a gruff play well offered to Sarah who just rolls her eyes at him.

No, not exactly what he had in mind for their second meeting.

He probably shouldn’t, but since he already seems to be playing the fool, he figures he doesn’t have much to lose in approaching her where she’s sitting in the popped-open trunk of her minivan, her sunglasses pushed up to the crown of her head and her legs swinging idly over the lip of the trunk. 

“I’m, uh, sorry about all that.” Her eyebrows raise, a weary look that makes something hot and slippery curl in his gut, a little bashful under her gaze. 

“I am too, I guess. They probably shouldn’t let us on the field together, huh?” Her words crack a bit dryly with the curl of her smile, instant relief washing over him in mirroring her expression. 

“No, I reckon not.” She doesn’t say anything more, just scoots her hips to one side and pats the space next to her, an invitation he tries not to seem so eager to take as he sits down beside her. Close enough now that he can get a better look at the tattoo on her arm and her thigh. Something beating hard in his chest and tightening up his throat when he realizes that it’s a bouquet of chrysanthemums etched into her thigh. And on her arm, spiraling over her bicep and across her shoulder is a branch of a cherry tree.

…

There’s no other option on a Sunday. She wishes more than anything that there was, but she knows that everywhere else is closed. 

“Thatcher’s auto and towing, how can I help you?” She hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks, not since that night they went to Mikey Donahue’s party. She even started picking Will up herself for dinner to avoid having him anywhere near her, pointedly ignoring the his shouts of her name from the ball field whenever she does. So hearing his voice gives her pause, and she nearly hangs the payphone back up, but she really has no other option right now.

“Uh, hi, my car broke down and I need to get it towed.”

“Cherry?” 

“Um, yes?” There’s a long pause on the other end, though she’s pretty sure she can hear him let out a deep sigh. 

“Shit, okay, where are you?”

“I’m out by the new mall, um, I think right off of eighth street? I don’t know what’s wrong with it, honestly it just sort of– gave out on me.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in five, just stay right where you are.” 

“Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere else, Joel.” She can hear the sound of something metal clanging around in the background, followed by Joel letting out a low curse.

“Right, yeah, just hang tight.” With that, he hangs up with a quiet click, and all that’s left to do is walk the two blocks back to her car. Technically, it’s her mom’s car, her old station wagon that had been given to her as a graduation gift, dark green with wood paneling and a dent in the back bumper that she has somehow managed to hide from both of her parents for a year now. She gives the car another once over, definitely nothing wrong with her tires, and she’s not even going to pretend like she’d know what’s going on under the hood, so she settles against the side of the car door and bides her time watching the slow trickle of traffic pass by.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, another record-breaking day of heat, she’s pretty sure. At least it feels that way, her eyes set in a perpetual squint under the hard beat of the sun as she swipes at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her wrist. Though mercifully she’s not waiting for long when a truck with the Thatcher’s Auto logo on the side comes pulling up alongside where she had managed to park her car on the shoulder of the road. He hops out of the truck, dressed in a pair of coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, a white wife beater on top that’s smeared with grease stains, and she has to remind herself that she’s still pissed at him when his dimple pops with a sheepish smile as he approaches her, tugging the baseball cap off his head to run a hand through his hair before settling his hat on backwards.

“Hey, Cherry, um, how– how have you been?” 

“I’ve been better, Joel, considering that my car won’t even start.” Nope, she’s not going to give him anything else, setting her jaw in a hard line and jerking her chin back over her shoulder as if to say get on with it. Joel seems to take the hint, giving her a jerky nod before taking a quick look around her car. 

“Well, your tires look fine. Lemme pop the hood and see if it’s anything obvious.” She hopes more than anything that it is something obvious, that she isn’t going to have to drive back to the shop with him, but judging by the way Joel lets the hood close with a shake of his head, she doesn’t think she has gotten so lucky. 

��I don’t know, Cher, I think you’re gonna have to come back to the shop with me so I can take a closer look.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to hold back a frustrated groan before she finally looks at Joel again. 

“Okay, fine, and how long is that gonna take, do you think?”

“Got a few other cars I have to take care of first, but it shouldn’t be too long. You okay to wait at the shop?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, so yeah.” She waits in the cab of the truck while Joel hitches her car up, keeping her eyes flicked down and out of the passenger window when he gets back in. 

“You giving me the silent treatment?”

“No, I just don’t have anything to say to you.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, but she can hear the huff of a sigh he lets out before he cranks the truck into drive. He doesn’t try to talk to her for the rest of the drive, and she keeps her arms crossed pointedly in front of her chest, her whole body angled toward the passenger-side door. However, when they pull into the garage at Thatcher’s and she tries to get out, the lock on her door promptly clicks down and the handle won’t budge. 

“Can we just talk for a second, Cher?” She pries the lock back open, but just as soon as she does, Joel clicks it back into place, forcing her to finally glare at him. His brow is furrowed and his knee is bouncing in his seat, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d guess that he’s nervous. 

“Fine, what is so important that you have to lock me into your truck like a goddamn serial killer?”

“Wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t being so goddamn stubborn to begin with.” She lets out a clipped bark of laughter at that, once again pulling the lock up on her own to try to get out, and once again, like a deranged comedy act, he clicks it back into place before she can even get her fingers around the handle. 

“Joel Miller, I swear to God, if you don’t let me out of this car right now I’m going to scream.”

“I just– just– fuck, Cherry, I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” That gives her pause. There have been only two other times in her life that Joel has apologized to her. The first time was when they were eight years old, and really, she thinks, it shouldn’t count because his mom forced him to, her hand between his small shoulder blades nudging him forward to say sorry for pulling on her braid from the pew behind her at church and making her cry. 

The second time, they were ten. That one does count. She was sitting on the swings at the playground down the street, scribbling in her notebook when a little crew of boys in the grade above her came out of nowhere and started heckling her. Joel showed up on his bike as she was picking up the tattered pages and scraps of what had been the story she was working on in her notebook. She remembers that she was trying really hard not to cry in front of him when he knelt down beside her to help her gather the torn pieces, small hands trying to make it right. He had nothing to be sorry for, but he still said that he was real sorry, Cher, quiet, and sounding much older and wearier than a ten-year-old should. That one counts. But otherwise, those words coming out of his mouth have been non-existent, so she can’t help but fall silent to hear just what he has to say. 

“You’re sorry?” He takes off his cap again, setting it down on the dash of the truck and dragging his hand back through his hair, very clearly having to work himself up to saying it again when he finally looks at her.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about what happened after Mikey’s party. I just– I thought that you–”

“Thought that I what? Did you really think I was going to be that easy, Joel?”

“What? No, if you would just let me finish speaking for Christ’s sake, I know that’s kind of difficult for you and your big mouth–”

“Wow, Joel, you really know how to apologize to a girl, huh?” With that, he slams the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, letting out a sharp curse that makes any other smart remarks fizzle out in her throat. 

“You know what, Cher? Just forget it. You can go wait in the office and I’ll have your car ready for you as soon as I can.” He finally unlocks the car door, and she’s more than happy to get out and slam it behind her.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, fine.”

…

“So is your wife not a fan of softball?”

“My what?” 

“Your wife, does she not like coming to games?” All he can do is laugh for a moment, pure disbelief at her question, and when he finally looks at her again, her brow still furrowed in confusion, he shakes his head with a huff.

“Is that like a funny question or something?” Just a little snap of annoyance behind her words, though he’s quick to respond, holding out his left hand in between them, his decidedly ringless left hand. 

“A little bit considering there is no wife.” It’s the middle of the fourth inning from what he can tell, still plenty of time for them to be not allowed on the field, sitting in the back of Cherry’s car. 

“Oh, but– was there one? I mean, Sarah’s mom?” 

“Uh, no, she’s not in the picture, at all.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. But, uh, what about you? I mean– is Ellie’s– is your, uh–” She cuts off his floundering with a nudge of her shoulder against his, a tight smile on her lips.

“Not in the picture.”

“At all?”

“Never, doesn’t even know Ellie exists.”

“Shit, Cher, that had to have been hard.” She laughs, a clipped sound in the back of her throat as she slides her sunglasses back down onto her nose, keeping her gaze out on the field in front of them. He quickly does the math in his head, pretty sure that Ellie and Sarah are the same age, something heavy and hot settling in his chest when he realizes that she would have only been twenty-two when she had her daughter, just like him. It’s an aching fact, one that his mind starts to swim with, though her voice pulls him out of it quickly.

“It definitely wasn’t easy, but I’d like to think I’ve done alright.”

“I’ll say, it seems like every year there’s a new book of yours in the news for being a bestseller.” She turns to look at him at that, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted before settling into a slight smile.

“Have you read any of them?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” His answer seems to stop her, her face falling behind the darkness of her sunglasses, though she’s quick to catch herself with a breathy humph before turning her eyes back on the field in the distance. He wishes he could tuck those words back in his throat, try that again if only to keep her eyes on him. 

“Are your folks still in town?”

“Oh yeah, dinner every Sunday with them still.” She hums, a light sound that curls with her smile, though she still doesn’t look at him. 

“That must be nice.”

“I think ma would throw a parade if she knew you were back in town.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher.” There, she looks at him again, her smile turning crooked as she nudges her shoulder against his, an easy moment that still makes his heart kick up in his chest. 

“And Tommy’s still around? Miller’s Construction, right?” He must have a funny look on his face when she says that because she laughs again, something warm and flushed creeping into her cheeks that makes his mind go a little fritzed. 

“I promise I’m not stalking you, I was just looking for someone to come fix some stuff at the new house. Sounds like you two have done well for yourselves.” His mind still hasn’t caught up, still such a strange feeling to have her here in the present, talking about these things in the present, all these normal, very grown up things. 

“Uh, yes, yeah, we do alright. Tommy is still a fucking nuisance, but it’s good work. What’re you looking to get done?” 

“I think my back porch is all rotted out, nearly put my foot through a plank the other day. Do you have any idea how much it would cost to redo the whole thing?” 

“I’d have to come take a look, but I could redo it for you, no problem.” He has already decided how much it will cost. Nothing, not for her, though he knows if he told her that now she’d scoff and get someone else to do it who would accept payment. He’ll save that fact for after it’s finished. 

“Alright, is there a number I can call to schedule an appointment?” Oh, oh, he’s not stupid enough to let this opportunity pass him by.

“Why don’t I, uh, give you my number? It’ll be easier that way.” He knows she knows what he’s doing, her lips pursing for a moment as if to consider it, but she still slides her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over to him. He has to think really hard about what his phone number is, typing it in with a small tremor in his hand that only gets worse when he gives her phone back to her with a barely there brush of their fingers. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe, what’s the question?” 

“Why’d you come back? I don’t know where you’ve been, Cher, but I can tell you that I never expected you to come back here.” Shit, he shouldn’t have asked that, because she’s not looking at him again, her chin tucking down as her mouth settles in a thin grimace.

“Honestly? I don’t know. We were in Chicago for the longest time, and then New York while I was working on my last two books. And it was great while it was great, you know? But it was just too much after a while, too much for Ellie, and too much for me.” He ducks his head down, trying to catch her gaze now that her sunglasses are pushed back up into her hair.

“So you made it to New York, huh?” That gets him a grin, her eyes crinkling up under her lashes at him.

“Yeah, the big leagues and all that shit.”

“How was it?”

“Lonely. I think I would have lost my mind if I didn’t have Ellie.” His heart twinges and then swells in his chest because he hates to hear that, and is also relieved to hear that, and then he hates himself for being relieved to hear that. That there wasn’t anyone else. 

“For what it’s worth, Cherry, I’m real glad to see you back here again.” No, that didn’t come out quite right, and he has to stop himself from physically wincing when she gives him a furrowed look in response. 

“I find that a little hard to believe, Joel.”

“Why?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?” He feels a long sigh leave his lungs, and she’s already hopping out of the trunk and brushing her hands down the front of her shorts as if to shake the conversation off.

“I am sorry, Cher, I–”

“Don’t, Joel. Don’t do that.” She shakes her head hard at him, eyes fierce for a moment before she slips her sunglasses back into place. 

“Well I am.” 

“Well I don’t want you to be. There’s no need for it when that was such a long time ago.” He wants to say something else, anything, but the tightness in his throat keeps the words stuck and simmering somewhere in his chest. She doesn’t look at him again, murmuring something about the game ending and wanting to help Ellie pack up, and all he can do is dumbly agree, shutting the trunk of her car and walking back toward the field a few paces behind her. Always a few paces behind her, it seems. 

…

Joel was full of shit. Something about fixing her car as soon as he could, something about it not taking too long. Yeah, bullshit. She has been sitting in the front office of the auto shop for the last three hours, trying and failing to get some writing done in her notebook amidst the seemingly ceaseless sounds of whirring drills, clanking and crashing metal, and the men in the garage cursing and carrying on amongst themselves. Though some of the sound has died down now that it’s just Joel working, the other men all clocking out at five o’clock. Meanwhile, he hasn’t even gotten to her car yet.

Everytime she glances into the garage, his legs are still sticking out from under a cream-colored mustang. When he does finally pop out from underneath the car, her hopes of getting out of the place soon are quickly dashed as someone pulls up to the gas pumps out front. She knows that car, a convertible in an obnoxious shade of turquoise that could only mean Maureen Henderson. Her daddy got her that car for her sixteenth birthday and she never stopped thinking she was hot shit for it ever since. 

She gets up from her cracked vinyl chair in the office to stand at the windows, trying to get a better look at their interaction. Joel is in fine form, of course, leaning down close over the driver’s side door, all grins, all popping gum with his jaw as Maureen rests a perfectly french-tipped set of fingers on his bicep. He must say something really funny for her to toss her head back like that, her teased-out hair bouncing with her tittering laugh. Joel slips around the front of the car, and, really, she thinks, is it so necessary for him to pump Maureen’s gas for her? Can Maureen really not just pump her own gas like a normal person? All a bit outdated, if you ask her. Though Maureen seems perfectly pleased with the whole production, leaning across the passenger’s side and slipping a few folded up bills into the back pocket of Joel’s coveralls while he’s turned away to set the pump back in its holster. How nauseatingly sweet of Maureen, who’s rewarded with another grin and something that must be really fucking funny for her to laugh so loud before she peels away from the shop with one more waggle of her fingers at him. Joel, meanwhile, seems in no hurry to get back to work as he moseys back into the garage, counting the bills that Maureen just tucked into his pocket with a stupid smirk on his face. Yeah, she’s seen quite enough.

“Hey, so I’m just wondering, when you said this wasn’t going to take too long, did you know that you were full of shit? Or is Maureen just that distracting?” Her eyes nearly water when she steps into the garage from the smell of motor oil and burnt rubber, though she’s a little too pissed to worry about that as she walks over to where Joel is rummaging through a tool box next to the mustang. 

“Aw, Cherry, don’t tell me you're jealous of little old Maureen.” She would like to smack his smile clean off his face, the only thing stopping her being the fact that she still needs him to fix her car. 

“I’m not jealous, Joel. I have been sitting in that office all afternoon watching you do everything except fix my car and I would like to go home now.” 

“So you’ve been watching me, huh?” 

“Christ, you really are relentless, aren’t you?” She honestly can’t believe he’s already bounced back to his incessant teasing after their little blow up in his truck, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and squinting at her as she huffs at him.

“Alright, Cher, you’ve waited long enough. I’ll take a look.” She follows close on his heels as he sidles over to her car, popping the hood and ducking his head under to look at the engine.

“Well?” Though she has no clue what he’s looking at, she still leans over the engine next to him, searching his face for any answers.

“Hmm, oh, here’s your problem.” He twists what looks like a loose knob down into the engine, shocking her with how quickly he stands back up with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“That– that’s it?”

“Yep, loose spark plug.”

“And you couldn’t have fixed that earlier on the side of the road?”

“No, I could have, but then you wouldn’t have come and kept me company with your death glare all afternoon.” He can barely get his words out around a laugh. But she is decidedly not laughing. It’s completely impulsive, and maybe childish, but it feels good to shove the flat of both her palms into his chest, making him stumble back against the side of the mustang parked next to her car. And since it felt so good the first time, she decides to do it again, this time with enough force for his laughs to die out with a grunted oof. 

“You’re an ass, do you know that? A huge– fucking– ass–” Each word gets punctuated with another shove, though on the last one Joel wraps his hand around her wrists, collecting them both in a tight hold and only pulling her closer against his chest when she tries to yank away from him. 

“Let go, Joel.” Their faces are so close to each other’s that she can smell the cinnamon on his breath from that Big Red gum he likes to chew, can even see the freckle tucked between his lashes underneath his right eye, the same freckle that’s been there since they were kids. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not gonna let go.” 

“You’re a fucking child.”

“That the best you got, Cherry baby?”

“Do not call me that.”

“Or else what?” A beat, a blink, a moment for her heart to sink into her stomach and shoot straight up into her throat when they both lurch into the space between them. There’s nothing nice about the first one, in fact, it hurts a little with how hard they both press into it, her nose mashing up against his as their teeth scrape and clash with each other. They kiss ugly. They kiss angry. Both of them too stubborn to let the other one get away with anything, the moment he licks into her mouth, she tangles her fingers in the back of his hair and tugs hard, swallowing down the grunt that looses from his throat. Though her upper hand is short-lived when Joel drops both his palms down to her ass and squeezes hard, her whole body jolting in his hold and pressing closer to him. He’s probably getting grease all over her clothes, but she’s not too concerned with that as she keeps drawing low little groans out of him every time she swipes her tongue against his. 

“Wait, Cher– shit, wait– I can’t– I don’t–” She finally pulls back when he keeps mumbling, and suddenly the reality of the situation comes plummeting down on her, starting to panic when it seems like Joel has decided this was all a big mistake.

“What, what is it?”

“I want to do this right with you– your– you should have a nice first time and–”

“Wait, what?” Joel’s eyes get wide and round, his hands dropping down by his sides from where they had been holding her hips when she takes a step back from him.

“Well, I, uh– you– you’re–”

“Joel, have you just assumed that I’m a virgin?” He winces at the word like it’s a curse, and she finally has to laugh at how ridiculous this is. 

“Does that mean you’re not?”

“Just shut up, Joel.” With that, she reaches forward for his waist where the sleeves of his coveralls are tied, making quick work of the knot and rucking his pants the rest of the way down as she kneels in front of him. She tucks her fingers into the band of his boxers, unable to help her grin when she feels his stomach tense against her knuckles.

“Can I?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes– you can do whatever you want, Cherry.” She likes him like this, with his throat bobbing and a crack in his voice pitching his words up an octave, his eyes wide and watching as she tugs his boxers down. And oh, she likes him like this too. Pretty boy who’s certainly pretty all over. The narrow tanness of his hips tapers into a dark thatch of curls, and well, there’s no two ways about it, he’s big, already hard, the tip flushed a perfect pink. Only a little intimidating, but judging by the sound he makes when she suckles the head of him into her mouth, she has it under control. 

“Oh my god– fuck, okay, fuck– you– you’re good at that– Jesus.” There’s a bit too much of him to take it all into her mouth, though she does her best to bob her head down his length, her hand wrapping around what she can’t quite reach as she laps at the vein running along the underside of his cock. A fleeting thought in the back of her mind, this was not how she imagined her day going, not in any universe. But something has snapped, something that cannot be stitched back together. And now, all she feels is an aching want, pulling taut in her stomach, pulling her to him. Want, want, want. She’s never wanted something so bad in her life, she thinks. Not very ladylike to want like this, to gag with it, to dribble spit around it, to see how much more she can take just to coax another broken moan out of his chest, her palms splayed out on his hips to keep him pinned still beneath all her want. But what she didn’t consider is that he wants it just as bad and big as she does, hooking his hand around the back of her neck to pull her off of him and hoist her onto her feet, chasing after the taste of himself on her tongue as he turns them around to press her up against the side of the car. 

“That was gonna be over too fucking soon if I let you keep doing that.” His hands get a little greedy, a little desperate, fumbling to get her t-shirt off before tugging her bra up and overhead without even unclasping it, ducking his head down to let his teeth scrape and nip at the newly exposed skin. He pauses only for a moment, pulling back, his parted lips shiny and blushing and his eyes heavy as he takes her in. She can’t help but drag her hand back through his hair, something tight settling in her chest when he absent-mindedly nudges his cheek closer into the cup of her palm. 

“You’re something else, Cherry.” She doesn’t have any time to ask him just what he means by that, his lips already finding hers again, a small gasp in the back of her throat at the feeling of her nipples dragging against the fabric of his wife beater. And then it’s an awkward, slow shuffle, given that his coveralls and boxers are still pooled and pulled around his ankles, around to the front of the car, his hands finding the backs of her thighs to coax her up and onto the hood. From there his palms start to wander, one coming to cup the side of her neck before slipping down to her breast, the boyish squeeze he leaves there making her laugh, though the sound dies fast when his other hand rests heavy at the waistband of her shorts, thumbing at the button. 

“Can I touch you, Cher?” It’s entirely too earnest, the way he’s looking at her from beneath the thick fan of his lashes, a small crease between his brows. And she’s a little afraid of how her want might skitter up her throat, so instead of saying anything, she simply pulls him in by the nape of his neck for another kiss as her other hand bats his away to undo her shorts. Mercifully, it’s enough of an answer for Joel, his hand replacing hers and dipping down beneath the fabric of her panties, the broadness of his palm cupping her cunt and grinding up into her heat in a way that makes her gasp against his mouth. 

Annoyingly, he’s halfway decent at it, swiping his fingers through her cunt in a harsh rub, though she tenses up when he tries to immediately dip two of his thick fingers into her clenching entrance. 

“Jesus Christ, warm me up a little first, why don’t you?” He looks genuinely perplexed by her exclamation, his hand stilling beneath the fabric of her panties as his brow crumples in reaction. 

“What did I do wrong?” She tugs lightly at the hair at his nape, a light laugh leaving her lips when he lets out a huff like an impatient boy.

“You’re a bit harsh, Joel.”

“Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.” Said with a roll of his eyes and his hand still down her pants so really, she has a hard time taking him seriously. 

“Well, I’m complaining. Just– gentler, here.” She clasps her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away, giving her room to shimmy her shorts and panties further down over the curve of her ass, the way Joel’s eyes instantly fall to where her legs have now splayed open a bit wider not getting lost on her. She fits her palm to the back of his hand, guiding it back to her cunt, her fingers pressing against the backs of his to direct a firm, swirling pressure to her clit. Her head tilts back on her neck as the pleasure settles over her slow and smooth, continuing to guide Joel’s hand with her own. 

“Just like that, s’perfect.” 

“Like that?” He says it so quietly, so uncharacteristically small that her attention snaps back onto him. His eyes are glued to where her hand is still moving his, lips parted, a look that borders on wonder and clear concentration, and suddenly, she can’t take her own gaze away from the sight, her head tilting on her shoulder as her hand falls away from his to let him do it on his own. 

“Yeah, Joel, feels really good like that. You can– you can add a finger now.” When he does, much slower, much softer, her eyes scrunch shut with a small curse and a sigh, and she finds herself leaning back on her elbows over the hood of the car, her whole body splayed out before him. Joel follows her slow fall, keeping a steady rhythm with his hand as he curls over her, his mouth resting hot and open between her breasts before he tilts his head to the side to take the peak of one of her nipples into his mouth. 

“That feel good, Cher?” 

“Yes, keep doing that, please. I– I’m gonna get there just like this.” Miracle, he listens, only adding another finger when she asks him for it, fucking her with his hand just how she wants him to. Miracle, she can’t tear her eyes away from his, the way he seems to be watching her face for every tell, every sigh and every fall. And miracle, she comes undone for him slowly, a cry catching in her throat when it finally hits her, the easiest unraveling. He only stops when she whines for him to, tugging his hand away and pulling him down for a kiss that’s more just two open mouths laying over each other than anything else. 

“Can we? Do you want to?”

“Yes, I want to.”

“Condom?”

“Birth control.”

“Gotta love women’s lib.” 

“Just don’t tell my mom.”

“Please don’t talk about your mom right now, Cher.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just come here.” He struggles a bit to tug her shorts and panties off of her feet, the fabric getting caught on her sneakers, though when he’s finally successful it’s the easiest thing for his hips to slot with hers, his hands curling around the backs of her knees to hitch her legs around his waist. Her arms settle loosely around his shoulders, laying back and bringing him with her as he presses his cock against her swollen cunt. A quick snarl of pain that pleasure snaps and smacks after when drives into her with one languid stroke, both of them letting out stuttered sighs when his hips press against hers. All of that want flickering up and down her spine as he starts to fuck into her, spreading her open again and again. 

“S’a fucking dream, you’re a fucking dream.” She almost wants to laugh at the breathless murmuring of his words, because truthfully she doesn’t think anything has ever felt this real. Her body fitting around his, the way her heart is threatening to beat a break in her ribs, the way her nails can drag down the sliding wings of his shoulder blades, and the incessant, aching heat of him throbbing so deep inside her that she thinks she’ll still feel that hurt tomorrow. She hopes that she will. 

“Joel, look at me, please.” She has to tug on his hair to coax his face out of the hollow of her throat and suddenly that want is dangerous. Looking into the crumpled pleasure painted across his face, watery eyes and slack jaw, and that want becomes dangerous because that want becomes something more. 

She can feel her slick dripping down her thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with the obscene slip of it, only a fleeting worry about making a mess of the car, though that flits away when Joel drags his fingers back over her clit a little harder, a little greedier.

“Just want one more, Cher, please.” She likes please on his tongue. Please pushes her right over the edge. A little harder this time, a little more ragged, furling up tight and taut around him before everything melts down with a whine of his name. He’s still saying please like a prayer when he comes, and all she can do is sigh with the warmth spreading inside of her. Inhale, exhale, her ribs expanding as his contract, a careful, quiet dance as they both come down, still pressed close, lips suggesting grazes. 

“Do you, uh, want to come up to my apartment?” Want says yes, a whisper her ears prick to under the obvious shout of no. Want says yes, over and over.

“Yeah, okay.”

....................................

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[keelt9]

OPIUM POPPY

Masterlist

This is nuts, I never in my whole life have I’ve seen so many pumpkins in a short period of time, I mean in 15 minutes. 

I totally forgot the first week of October Lilian receives like every year a full load of pumpkins from a local farm, for sale on halloween. It was until early morning a big truck parked in front of the florist’s full of pumpkins.

“The back room is full, I think we should put it here.” Gael said, coming out of the room full of orange fruits. “Don’t worry, it's normal, relax.” 

I nod as I keep signing the paper of receipt; between the bouquets, pumpkins start to take place.

The sound of the door makes me realize that yes, customers will be coming along with the pumpkins. 

“Hi, I’ll be there in a pumpkin.” The scoff of Gael makes me correct myself. “In a second, I’ll be with you in a second.”

“This will be over in four days.” Gael jokes with me walking around the place trying to put in order all the pumpkins.

“Days?!” Gael carried another pumpkin to the back room.

“So, all are here.” I get down my head trying to figure out who four days can become, at least in two.

“Everybody here knows, huh?” The soft giggles sound familiar now, turning around I see Joe arm cross but with a smile.

“Lilian let us know a few days earlier pumpkins are coming.” I curse underneath seeing the last pumpkin enter the florist’s. 

Gael greeted Joe in total calm with a bouquet in his hands. Mental note, asking him why he didn’t say anything the first few days I was here about Joe.

“This is about to be smashed, where do you want it?” A small opium poppy bouquet is safe in his hands, I was working on that before the pumpkin rain interrupted.

I looked around beside the bouquets in their places, it wasn’t any empty spot. 

“I’ll take it.” Joe answered by taking the bouquet looking around to the orange room. “And my pumpkins.” 

Making Gael and I laugh. “Are you leaving my heartsease?” This time Joe laughs so hard. 

“Just for a while.” I chuckle taking the bow to put the ribbon around it, meanwhile Gael takes the 5 big pumpkins to Joe’s car.

“I haven’t seen you in days, you get the number?” This time I chose a yellow ribbon.

Joe clears his throat and a big smile appears on his face, good news. “I did.”

“And?” I give it to him one more time, but he licks his lips. “No way! You haven’t texted her, right?”

“It’s not that easy. What could I tell her?” Joe complains, raising his shoulders. 

I cross my arms. “Who could tell? Joe Burrow it’s a shy guy after all.” The loud bump of Gael's arm distracts us for a second. 

“I’m fine! I don’t see the wall.” Joe and I laughed seeing Gael carrying the last pumpkin. 

I think for a second when Collin's message gives an idea. “What about if you tell her about your day?”

Joe scoffs seeing the flowers. “My day?” 

“Hey! If you tell her, maybe she will tell you about hers. I bet you don’t have a boring life.” Joe laughs softly as he puts his hands on his waist. “I don’t know, the good one on this it’s Lilian, you should have asked her when she was here.” 

One more time the door opens, this time the Hunter twins arrive with big eyes running when they see the pumpkin ocean.

“Mom, it’s time!” Mrs. Hunter smiles knowing that maybe her shop of flowers will turn in a car full of pumpkins. 

“I’ll leave you, thanks for the advice.” Joe jokes as we walk to the exit. “I’ll send you a photo after I finish my work of art.” 

He points to the 5 big pumpkins in his car. “I count on that.” 

It was a long day, a lot of pumpkins are still around, it seems we barely reached clean the front of the florist’s. Gael came from the back room tired as I was ready to go home. 

“Do you need help tomorrow for the small ones?” I choke with my sip of water.

“Small ones?!” Gael jokes and explains to me, the first day the big pumpkins arrived and the next the small ones, less than big ones. “Omg!”

“I’ll come tomorrow morning, have a good night boss.” Gael said, walking with his backpack to the exit as he picked his big pumpkin.

On my way to Lilian’s apartment a message from a strange number appears on the screen. Joe sent a photo of one of his big pumpkins, a scary face on it, set in his front door.

I thought if with the frequency of his messages increasing I’ll probably not see him so much, to be honest it’s way much easier, order flowers than come to pick it up, but no; his 3 day visit continues with the same excitement as always. 

“Ok, ok, wait for a second.” I stretch my arms and hands.

When Lilian knows that I have a local full of pumpkins and there aren't any of them on our door, she calls every morning, afternoon and night until I agree I’ll try my best to put at least one. 

In all my life, yes, I decorated pumpkins but my mom and dad, even Collin, are in charge of taking out all the pulp and giving it a proper form, until today.

Reason why, I’ll call my dad early this morning to guide me through this.

“We’re almost there honey, just one eye and a nose and it will be over.” Dad had his cup of coffee next to him as he finished his third pumpkin. 

“I 100% prefer painting them.” After a week, the florist’s is empty of pumpkins, with halloween in 3 days, you start to see kids with costumes from early hours.

One more hour and I finally finished one pumpkin. “We can start the other when you feel ready.”

I shake my head taking out the gloves as I scoff. “Lilian said one, there is one.” 

Dad laughs as he smiles softly at me. “One kid far away and the other ready to go.” 

Lately with me away from home and Collin next to do it too, our parents turn into really sentimental people.

The sound of the door announced the first customer of the day. “I have to go, thanks dad.” 

He smiles waving his hand before hanging out.

I found Joe with his bag in his hand and sunglasses on, making me smile. The Bengals have a game in Las Vegas. 

“You know, there are barely a few sunlights.” He laughs as I point to his sunglasses. “I guess you’re leaving early, huh?” 

Joe nods. “We do. And you’re covered in orange.” I look down at a lot of pumpkin on me.

“I just made horrible things to a pumpkin.” He laughs as he is searching for something in his bag. “I sadly guess, there is no bouquet today, huh?”

“I’m afraid don’t but…” He smiled when he found it in his bag. “Here.”

A small pumpkin painted in gray an black, it’s squidward. 

“Oh my God! This is amazing.” I observed utterly fascinate. 

“It’s for you.” My brain stops working for more than a second. “You said you need one, so, I’ll hope it works.”

I feel so flattered for a pumpkin. “Whoa, hm, thank you, thank you so much.” Joe smiles grow bigger after seeing me smiling. 

“Well, mhm I have to go, I’ll see you when I come back.” I nod unable to say another word as he walks out of the place.

Until I see an orange opium poppy on the desk. “Joe!” He stops outside of the florist’s; with a tremble on my hands I give him the flower. “Who dey.” 

Joe chuckles and I could swear I see him blushing.

Halloween approached in a blink of an eye, suddenly it's Halloween morning; people with costumes since the very first hours of the morning, kids running all over the streets excited for the night and another just with a small item of Halloween in their clothes.

“In your house?!” Gael screamed from the backroom, he just arrived. “You can come with me.”

I chuckled as I took a last review to the orders of the day. “Take your boss to a Halloween party? No, I will pass.”

Since yesterday night when I told him I'll be resting at home on Halloween night he keeps complaining that I should go to a bar for a drink instead of spending the night in Lilian's house.

“Besides I have candies to give, a lot of them.” I bought a lot of bags of candy. If I plan to be at home, kids will be coming too.

Gael came out with a few flowers for a bouquet. “At least do a proper horror movie marathon.”

“Count with that.” I pat his arm. “It's all right, I'm exhausted after all, don't forget this is all new for me.”

Gale bluffs as a customer gets inside picking up the first bouquet of the day.

The day passed with more movement than I expected. After midday, kids started rushing asking for “trick or treat”, people looking for bouquets and another for a specific type of flowers for their costumes.

Gael leaves earlier, he has a party to go and the night is here.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” I jumped and screamed as I turned around finding a big mask of an alien.

Joe takes out the mask giggling. “Happy Halloween!” 

With my hand on my chest I shake my head. “What are you doing here? You should be with your girl at a party or something like that.”

Joe blushes, repeating the same words. <My girl.> “She has to work, so she will probably be tired, I don't want to rush anything.”

I smile proudly. “Whoa, I'm gladly surprised, how thoughtful. Still you have a party right?”

He has a mask and a strange UFO suit. After a big win, they came back that same night. Joe told me some of the guys want to be here to spend Halloween with their families.

“I do, one of the guys is making one.” Joe looks around his eyes and stops in the small pumpkin on the desk smiling.

“Hey, great game. I heard you crushed the other team.” I said looking for a ribbon for the last bouquet of the day.

“You heard? You didn’t watch it?” His disbelieving tone made me close my eyes and smile.

“You played the same hour as San Francisco. I can't help it.” I put the ribbon when I lifted my eyes; Joe is biting his lip kind of indecisive. “Are you ok?”

“You know, there is a big divisional game next week…” He lifts his head rubbing his neck.

“Yeah, the Steelers.” I nod fitting for not blushing like a tomato in front of him, the uncountable times I see the videos and pictures of this now so vividly in front of me.

“YES!” He clears his throat. “And… San Francisco has his bye week.”

Never fails to make me laugh. “I know.”

“What about if you watch it?” Joe asks but his eyes are closed. 

“Yeah, sure.” His eyes open right away, looking for something in his jacket.

“In the Stadium.” It's two tickets for Sunday's game. 

I take them, opening my eyes so big. “Are you joking?” Clearly exciting for the invitation. Looking in detail it's first row tickets. “No way!” 

“I mean you could bring someone if you want.” It's hard to contain the thrill even when he knows the only person I could bring is Gael. 

“So funny.” I look at the tickets then at him who has a soft smile. “I'll go, count on that!”

Joe was about to speak but my excitement came with a big hug. “Thanks Joe.”

He tense for a moment but a second later, I feel his arms around me in a warm hug.

“Is there a chance I will meet the mysterious girl?” I asked, slipping apart.

Joe cheeks turned red and whispers almost inaudible, and I’m not sure if I could hear. “I think you already did.”

My phone started to sound, Collin is calling. 

“Sorry, it's my brother I have to pick up.” Joe shakes his head, taking his mask.

“I have to go too. I'll see you in the week before the game, ok?” Joe almost crashed into the wall of the entrance.

“Careful.” He smiles in a shy way. “I'll be here, believe me.” He nods, walking out with a fist tight.

I didn’t have to ask Gael twice to come with me, still he gives the same friendly recommendation. “Making friends outside of the florist's it’s a good option.”

Late at night the day before the game I received the call from Lilian, with good news, if things go as planned they’ll be here the second week of december. 

“That’s great!” Lilian laughs. “I mean, I'm having a great time here but you know, I'm happy for you…”

“And…” She asked as she kept preparing her clothes for breakfast with Jason’s friends. 

“Well, I don’t mind being less involved in hand work.” Meanwhile I was taking out my shopping from this afternoon.

“I bet a lot of pe…” She stops everything and looks right to me. “Hold on, hold on, what do you have there?” 

I see the last things I take out, a bag of chips, a scarf and a beanie. “What?”

“The black, orange beanie.” She points at the camera like she knows where I put it.

“Oh, this.” I raise the beanie, the beanie has a orage-white nine on the middle of it. “Right, I forgot to tell you, Joe invited me to the game, tomorrow's game.” 

I'm aware of the corners of my lips going up. 

“Right.” Lilian has a title head and narrow eyes, like I have something more to tell. “Are you going with h…”

“God! Lilian you’re making this awkward, I’ll invite Gael to come with me; Joe just invited me and gave me the tickets.” I shiver at her mind making a whole story that fast. 

“Sorry! You put all the things for me to start to make my own theories.” She looks more relieved going back to her task.

“He has a girl he likes! OMG! We've been talking about that!” I stand walking to the kitchen to make dinner.

“I know! But… I thought that girl might be you!” I heard Jason asking if everything was alright, he heard the screams. “Fine, Y/N and I we’re having a talk.”

I giggle, imagining Jason nod as he comes out slowly for the bedroom, he has seen and heard our talks so he knows we tend to raise our voices. 

“See, even you scare Jason.” I chuckle seeing her face turning red. “Whatever I have to go.” 

Lilian nods, taking her phone so she can whisper something. “Have fun with…”

I hang out laughing at how imaginative she could be most of the time.

Sunday morning, I found Gael waiting for me one hour before the game started. Honestly I wouldn't mind coming on time, either I don’t mind seeing Joe a little bit more.

“All I’m saying is these are pretty good seats.” I followed Gael through the corridors of the stadium until we came out. “See, just behind the touchdown line.”

Our seats were a few distance from the middle of the touchdown line, having an amazing view of the field, and soon of the game. On the field the players from both teams are finishing their warm ups, going to the locker room and getting ready for the ceremony.

“You know what would be crazy?” Gael said as we sat marveling at the view we had. “They walk right for that hallway.” He points to the big entrance a few meters from us.

I scoff taking a picture for sending to Collin who I bet will burn for this. “Wait, I thought you had already come to a game before.”

Gael nods. “But not this close. These seats at this time of the season are expensive.”

His words trigger something on my mind. “Joe has a box here, right?” He nods and points to where it’s. 

Even from a distance I see a few people there and I keep wondering if the mysterious girl is here too. I am dying to meet her. 

“You think you can get us a pass for that?” He raises and lowers his eyebrows making me laugh.

My words get stuck when I see Joe walking to the other side of the field, he finishes his warm ups, fully concentrates; takes a few minutes to sing and greet the fans near that zone. 

“Damn it! So close.” I chuckle, Gael complains like he didn’t see him at least once at time in the store.

A balling game, what you heard it could be a game of few points turn on the ball coming on going to the other side of the field.

Related to the ideas of Lilian still lingering on my head I almost could swear that in a touchdown Joe approached way too much to zone where we are. 

By the end of the game, Bengals win for a touchdown; we remain until the last players left the field, waving our hands to Joe who left after answering some questions. 

On our way to take a bus, I received a text from Joe; he asked if I could bring a bouquet of opium puppies in an hour when all the duties of the game ended. 

Gael offers to come with me to the florist’s and go back with me but it’s Sunday, I’ll be able to handle this. 

“What does it mean?” Gael asked me to give him the last flower. “The flower.”

“Peace and hope.” He nods. “Why?”

Gael opened his mouth but closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… Nevermind, my tricky mind.”

“Are you sure?” I put the bow in the middle. 

He nods. “You think you’ll meet the girl today?” Gael asked, sitting on the chair.

I don’t know who's more excited, him or me. “I’m counting on that.”

Joe gave indications for which part of the stadium I must get in, so I just followed instructions when I found a girl at the door, just like he said.

“Hi, I…” The girl smiles at me like she found a treasure.

“Y/N, right?” I nod and extend the bouquet to give it to her but she shakes her head. “Oh, no, Joe asked us to let you come, this way please.”

I follow her seeing players coming out tired but clearly excited for going home with their families and a home win.

“Wait, wait.” A big guy stops us looking at me with narrow eyes. “Cute girl, with flowers and… “ His eyes turn wide open. “Y/N?”

I take a step back, surprised by he actually knows my name, the girl giggles but doesn't say another word. 

Ja’mar who was walking behind him, eyes on his phone, stops when he hears my name. 

“Y/N?” He looks at the bow on my hands. “Please don’t tell me my man makes you bring this.”

“Am, yeah?” Chase shakes his head, making me more confused than I was a second ago.

“Why are so many…” A new guy appears with a bag on his hands, when he sees me, like the two other guys he smiles. “You came here with flowers?”

I nod. “Yeah, Joe asked me this.” I innocent question couldn’t be harmful right? “You know the girl right?” All look at me with a choke head. “The girl who Joe likes?” 

My excitement left them speechless and confused. “Don’t you?” Chase asked with open eyes.

“How could I know her?!” I throw my head back frustrated. “Joe just came for flowers and…” 

The disbelieving expressions, and tender smiles bring memories to my mind; the unusual visits, the texts and photos, the eyes and smiles. Drain the blood of my brain.

“He gave you a pumpkin of Squidward?” The strength on my fingers faded away making the bouquet fall off my hands.

“Oh my…” My phone starts to sound, with trembling hands I take out of my pocket finding the name of Joe on the screen.

Unable to pick up, my brain starts to work as fast as it can, when I lift my eyes, my heart stops for a second.

Joe was walking outside, with comfy clothes as his eyes are on his phone and in his hands a beanie. My phone rang one more time, he heard it lifting his eyes and found me surrendered by big guys, a bouquet on my feet and I swear pale as a ghost.

“You...”  

[apomaro-mellow]

Family Planning 2

Part 1

When he got home that evening, he called both Tommy and Carol to let them know he wouldn’t be able to pick them up the next morning. All in service to the big reveal tomorrow. The fake stomach had been smuggled out of the theatre department and only now did Steve take it out, alone in his room.

He put it on with surprising ease and looked himself over in the mirror, snickering to himself. Then he put a shirt over it and widened his eyes at how realistic it looked. His arms slowly wound around to cradle his stomach. He let himself imagine that it was actually his, that it was actually his and Eddie’s. 

“Yeah right”, Steve scoffed, like he was trying to convince himself as he took it off. 

The next day, Steve was having breakfast with his parents when he heard someone pull up to the driveway. Not just someone. It could only be-

“Who is that?”, Steve’s father Richard frowned at the van out front.

“That’s my Home Ec partner. Gotta run!” He gobbled the rest of his cereal, put his bowl in the sink, kissed his mother’s cheek and then ran out the door. Once he got in the passenger side, Eddie took off, not even waiting for him to have his seatbelt on.

“Jesus, why are you in such a rush? Is that anyway to treat someone who’s expecting?”

“Sorry, just excited”, Eddie said, putting the pedal to the metal.

Steve could understand. He was kind of feeling a buzz too, but he wasn’t about to admit it. On the way to school, he worked on slipping the fake belly over his real one. 

Eddie wasn’t exactly a virgin. He’d messed around a couple of times before. But even so, seeing Steve’s bare torso, his belly button and happy trail, he kept from swerving only just because he was turning anyway. He kept his eyes on the road, resolute, after that. What a stupid way to die, ogling a guy who’d never given you the time of day. Because of his focus, he didn’t get to see Steve’s new look until he parked.

It looked so…natural. He swallowed, eyes moving slowly up his body to meet the omega’s. 

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked.

Eddie grinned. “It’s showtime.” He got out first and then went over to Steve’s side, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Watch your step, baby.”

Steve’s ears burned at the pet name. They had made this grand plan, pretending to be expecting parents. But he hadn’t really visualized what that would look like in practice besides the dropped jaws of their peers. Eddie held his hand out to help Steve out of the van, all part of the show. And when he finally stepped out all the way it was like he could hear the hush come over the parking lot.

Everyone who caught sight of them was trying to do the mental gymnastics to make sense of what they were seeing. Eddie snickered as he put an arm around Steve’s shoulders, enjoying the spectacle. They walked passed a few cars before getting to Tommy’s truck, where he and Carol were leaning against the bumper.

“What the hell am I looking at?”, Carol said, eyes bugging out of her head.

“This has gotta be some kind of joke”, Tommy glared in confusion.

And even though Steve was their friend, their befuddlement kept them from approaching. As it did to others. Everyone just stared on. Only a few knew that they’d been paired for the Home Ec project. Plenty knew about the lunchroom incident but didn’t exactly know how Steve was involved. Eddie walked Steve to his locker and only then did he take his arm off his shoulders.

“Time for Papa Bear to bring home the bacon. Don’t miss me too much.” He bent over to kiss Steve’s false belly and then skipped off. For all his bravado, there was a part of him that was nervous that Steve might think he went too far. Best to get out of whopping distance in that case.

No one had ever kissed his stomach before. But then again, Steve supposed no one had a reason to. Even though he hadn’t really felt it, the place Eddie kissed tingled all the same. He quickly checked himself before going off to class. It wasn’t like he liked the man. They’d barely spoken to one another. Maybe he was a little easy on the eyes, nice hair anyway. But the man’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his homeroom teacher choked at the sight of him. Everyone else in the room stopped talking. Steve entered with his head held high but for a moment he wondered if this was how it would be if he actually got knocked up. How long would it have taken him to show? Would people stare this much? He vaguely recalled a girl last year who got pregnant. Of course, she dropped out and Steve had no idea what became of her until he happened to see her at the grocery store, carting a pup along.

She seemed content. Although he now realized he had no idea what happened to the person who sired her pup or who they even were. The double standards had always been apparent to Steve but even more so now that he was stepping into that role.

At some point during class, he started resting his hand on his stomach. It just felt natural. And then he began to rub it. It wasn’t hard to imagine it was all for real. It was just hard to wrap his head around having a baby himself. Steve had never gone steady with anyone. What kind of alpha would he eventually be with?

The thoughts ran through his mind for the remainder of homeroom, when Eddie showed up to come and ‘pick him up’. 

“Did my two darlings miss me?”

“It wasn’t even half an hour”, Steve rolled his eyes. He was aware that Eddie didn’t attend his own homeroom because that was usually when he went out to the abandoned picnic area to sell his party favors. Bring home the bacon, indeed.

Eddie escorted him to his next period, which he shared with Carol and Tommy. Of course, they were already there and before the period officially started, they grabbed Steve and made an exit. Loitering in the halls when they should be in class wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially for a teacher that droned like Mr. Parsons, but he could tell this wouldn’t be their usual hang out session.

“What’s the deal with that?”, Carol cut right to the chase, pointing at his torso.

The hallway was empty, everyone either in class or loitering elsewhere. Steve just shrugged while smiling. He knew jokes like this weren’t their thing, which is why he didn’t bring it up before the reveal. They were more into the kind that were at other’s expense.

“It’s just a gag. And a way to not fail Home Ec this year.”

“Did Munson put you up to this?”, Tommy crossed his arms.

“He came up with the idea but clearly I had nothing against it.”

Carol’s face was green. “You look ridiculous. What if people actually think you’re pregnant?”

“Then they’d be stupid”, Steve said. No one went from flat stomach to showing in a day. It was such a change that his shirt almost didn’t fit him.

Tommy shook his head. “You had like, one detention with him and he’s got you all flipped around, doing his bidding.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. And it won’t even be that long. We’ve got a plan.”

The rest of the day went by with the same gawking and staring that had begun in the morning, especially when Eddie sat at Steve’s table during lunch. If looks could kill, he would have been double dead by the way Carol and Tommy were glaring. Steve paid their attitudes no mind and treated it as if Eddie always sat there.

At the end of the day, Eddie took Steve home and he took the belly off on the drive back. They looked at each other, rather pleased with themselves.

“I can’t believe the looks on all their faces”, Eddie beamed.

“I think some of those jaws are still on the floor”, Steve said.

“Ready for the big climax tomorrow?”

Steve took a breath. “As I’ll ever be. Think this’ll actually get us back on track for the assignment?”

“That or we get suspended. But! Engels won’t wanna deal with me for a whole other year and you’ve got the untouchable quality of being on a sports team, so they’ll probably let us off with an essay.”

“God, I hate essays”, Steve rubbed his face. “Why makes us write five hundred words when I can say it in like 12?”

“You think five hundred words is a lot? That’s adorable.”

Steve scowled at him and Eddie gave a very dramatic wince. To the point where he fell back against the driver side door with his hand to his heart.

“There it is! The Royal Evil Eye!”

“Shut the hell up”, Steve scoffed.

“If it makes you feel any better about our situation, I don’t mind helping you with that essay. We’ll probably be spending many afternoons in detention after tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t know when the prospect of such a punishment didn’t seem like such a drag anymore. With Eddie around at least it wouldn’t be boring.

“It’s the least you can do”, Steve said as he opened the door. “If you’re gonna be my alpha, take responsibility.”

---------------------

The next day started the same but this time, both Eddie and Steve were a little nervous. Yesterday was like a pre-show compared to what would go down today. They had Home Ec today and if their teacher hadn’t heard about Steve’s new predicament, she’d find out the moment they walked in.

Steve skipped homeroom that morning, going with Eddie into the theatre department where one of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was helping them with this final stunt.

“Okay, are you guys really sure you wanna do this?”

“Just tell me you got it rigged to max pressure”, Eddie said.

“Dude, the whole classroom is going to be a splash zone”, Gareth assured him.

“How do you know how to do all this?”, Steve asked.

“You know those guys who do effects in horror movies? That’s gonna be me one day.”

The period for Home Ec came and Ms. Engels’ eyes got wide watching Eddie walk in with his arm around Steve’s waist. There were snickers coming from the other students as it was clear she had NOT heard that they had a bundle on the way. 

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?”

“By my watch, I’d say arriving to class a full minute early”, Eddie said just as the bell rang. “Oh, mine must be a little fast.”

“You were told to show that you can handle the responsibility of parenthood”, she began to scold as they took their seats, this time right next to each other.

“What’s more responsible than this”, Steve said. “I’m all ready to become a mother.”

She glowered. “Teen pregnancy is a serious issue.”

“Then why don’t we learn anything useful?”, Eddie challenged. “All this school has taught us is ‘don’t have sex, oh but in case you do, here’s a bag of flour’. How does a bag of flour teach us anything about babies?”

“I’m calling the principal”, Ms. Engels said, going to the phone on the wall. “Detention will be the least of your worries.”

Eddie stood up. “Careful, you don’t want to put stress on my Stevie. He’s due any minute now.”

“Principal Woolsley, the Munson boy is at it again. I need you in my room this instant.”

“I’m warning you”, Eddie said.

“Are you threatening a teacher!?”

“Eddie!”, Steve gasped. “That baby’s coming!”

“Oh you’ve done it now Engels!”, Eddie shook a finger at her and then helped Steve to stand up like he was actually going through labor.

The rest of the class watched on, engaged in the spectacle. Eddie went right over to Ms. Engels’ desk and in one sweep, brushed everything off her desk and onto the floor. There were gasps and shrieks and guffaws and Eddie lived for it as he brought Steve over to lay on top of it.

“Okay, honey here we go. Just breathe and push with me.”

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“And push!”

Steve’s face only showed glee as he pretended to push the baby out, waiting for Eddie’s cue. He really was some kind of showman, hamming it up for his audience. He waited for the tension in the room to rise before he went around to Steve’s front, peering between his clothed legs.

“I think I see a head! It’s time to really push!”

A few heads craned like they’d actually be able to see a pup crowning when Steve was still wearing his jeans. It was the suspense of whether or not something, anything would come out. Eddie went back to Steve’s side and held his hand, grounding him. Steve took a breath and they let Gareth’s work explode.

Right into Mr. Woolsley’s face.

The tomato sauce was pretty thick, filled with chunks that would’ve been a pretty good stand in for viscera. But even through it all, they could see the man’s red face. His voice was scarily even as he spoke.

“I’m calling your parents.”

Part 3

Tag Team

@marklee-blackmore @aol19

[neowinestainedress]

soooo... can i ask a drabble with johnny and sex car?

w!: car s*x, outdoor s*x (there’s nobody around tho), unprotected s*x, failed attempt at roleplaying, rough s*x but also romantic idk, size kink, fingers sucking, mexico!johnny bc he looked too hot that day

a/n: this took long, sorry, but i hope you like it! it’s also pretty long cause i’m whipped for johnny + the car is a pick-up truck for the sake of johnny's tall ass

“Babe, seriously, can you stop teasing?” Johnny huffs when you twirl around him and brush your fingers on his biceps teasingly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his neck. 

“What? You look fucking hot like this,” you say, playing with a strand of hair, and mindlessly going to sit on the open bonnet of the car, but your boyfriend is quick at putting a hand between you and the car, not without sparing you a glare. 

“We are lost in the middle of nowhere, our car broke down and you’re trying to give me a boner.” 

You chuckle. “You already have one, I think I succeeded,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side before running your tongue on your teeth.

Johnny sighs, throwing the dirty gloves on the battery and rolling his head back. What was supposed to be a simple cute date to get lost somewhere and enjoy the early summer haze turned into your car giving up on an empty road in the middle of sunflowers and poppies fields. 

“Can you at least try to make me fix it?” 

“You’ve been at it for an hour, Handy Mandy, you can’t,” you say, cupping his face to kiss him. “You’re not a mechanic, but you look hot cosplaying as one, so why don’t you call a real one that can fix this shit, and in the meanwhile have some fun?” 

Johnny sighs another time. “Seems like the perfect time for a roleplay,” he jokes. You see his hands move to pull you closer but then he takes a step back. “I’m all dirty, I have oil everywhere, I will stain your dress.” 

“Not if you take it off,” you wink, lifting the hem, showing him your bare skin. “Also, you’re hotter like this,” you say, moving close again, touching his arm and face, tracing the black lines on his skin. “It makes you look… rough.” He’s still not convinced but when your thumb brushes against his lips, you see his eyes change. 

“And what can a nice, elegant and polite girl like you do with a man like me?” He asks, strong hand reaching your neck and pulling your head back. 

“You can show me a whole new world,” you say, keeping eye contact. 

“Get in the car,” he orders, pointing to the vehicle with his head while he searches for his phone in his pocket. 

You do as he says, but you can’t help but stare at him from the window. He looks so hot right now; khaki pants falling softly on his long legs, brown belt keeping them tight around his waist, and lastly, the white tank top that wraps his toned, broad chest so well. 

“So, it’s going to take a while for the tow truck to arrive,” Johnny informs you, leaning against the car door. “I could leave, but I will never leave a damsel in distress on her own,” he winks, leaning down, reaching your leg level, placing a hand on your knee. 

You smile, tucking your hair back and giving him an innocent look. “Maybe you could help me out, I’ve got a little problem… here,” you say, slowly parting your legs and lifting your dress just enough he could see your panties weren’t on you anymore. 

“Fucking tease,” he groans, squeezing your leg harder. “In the truck, now.”

“What?” 

“You think a big man like me can fuck you good in those crumpled backseats?” He asks, leaning against the door and flexing his muscles. 

“But it’s… it’s more open,” you mumble, looking behind you in panic. 

He scoffs, eyebrow twitching. “Well, then I’ll go back fixing the car.” 

“No!” You scream. “I mean,” you try to regain your composure, “no, you can take care of me.” 

“As I thought,” Johnny says, moving back to let you pass. You quickly follow him outside, watching him jump in the open truck. 

“Hey, do I have to jump?” You pout. 

“Do I have to carry you here?” 

“Well, with those big, strong arms,” you try to convince him, but he doesn’t move. “You’re so annoying.” 

“I’m fixing the hotel room for my horny travelling companion,” he teases, fixing the pillows and covers on the floor. It’s not much, just something you carry when you feel romantic and decide to go out at night to stargaze after travelling far from the city to avoid light pollution. 

You lay down, watching him kneel between your legs, lifting your pale yellow dress up, exposing your lower half. 

“Wait, sir,” you stop him when he leans down, hot breath fanning against your skin, “why don’t you go straight to show me what you’re hiding?” You tease. “Unless you want to share me when your mechanic friend arrives. I mean, you need more help with the car, maybe you might need more help even with me.” 

Johnny inhales deeply, throwing his head back as he starts to quickly unbuckle his belt. “You always run that pretty mouth so much?” 

“Mhh, sometimes,” you taunt, winking before he gets on top of you, and you feel small again. 

“Fine, I’m going to give you what you’ve been begging for the whole ride,” he says, tapping your thighs playfully, pushing your legs flat against your chest. 

“Fuck,” you moan loudly when he pushes into you, thick dick stretching you out and hitting deep inside. 

“I’d ask for how long you’ve been thinking about this but I’m not sure I want to know the answer,” he groans, eyes falling where your bodies meet for a moment, talking about how wet you are already. 

“Since you picked me up?” 

“Shut up, that sounds terrible,” he huffs, glaring at you, but you only giggle at his expression. “You’re driving me insane today.”

You chuckle and then bring him close to you, wrapping your hands around his neck, Johnny immediately kisses you back. You can’t resist the urge to run your hands on his arms, the light tan given by your, now frequent, dates outside, and the sweat pearling his skin after he struggled under the sun for an hour, driving you insane. 

“You know,” he groans, “it’s not fair you’ve got to see my muscles all day but I still haven’t got a glimpse of your boobs.” 

You giggle, “as if you don’t know them by heart.” 

“So what? Push the dress down, come on,” he orders, watching your hands hesitantly leave his toned arms to reveal your panting chest to him. “Fucking perfect,” he groans as he gets down to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on each of them until they’re both hard and sensitive. 

You moan his name, your head rolls back when he starts fucking you faster, keeping a firm hold on your waist while the other hand is planted at the side of your head to support his body up. 

“Have I told you that you look so beautiful in this dress?” 

“All day,” you moan, not able to hide the small on your face. 

“Good, it won’t hurt to hear it one more,” he chuckles before pushing his body down so his lips can directly stay against your ear, “you look beautiful in this dress, especially when you’re a moaning mess because of me. It’s a view.” 

His words make your heart beat faster in your chest and you turn your face to the side to hide how flustered you look. “You were supposed to be rough.” 

“I’m going pretty hard on you, babe. Pretty sure the closest house from here can hear the sounds of our skin slapping. Want me to be rough with words?” 

You shake your head. “No, I just — you’re really hot like this,” you mumble. 

“I’d really hate to ruin your pretty make-up but… if that’s what you want,” he shrugs. 

You gasp when he tugs your lower body up, angling you in a way he can go deeper and faster. “You want to feel small, babe? Is that what you like so much about me?” 

At this point you can only let out whimpers, eyes rolled in the back of your head while you gasp for air. You think you stop breathing for a split second when his hand leaves your side to cup your face, it’s not a harsh squeeze but it’s a strong, firm hold, and you feel like you could come just by that. 

“Open up,” Johnny orders and you obey with no hesitation, parting your lips to let two of his fingers in. “That’s it, good girl, suck it like you suck my dick while I fuck you.” 

You almost choke when he pushes them down on your tongue, watching you gulp and shudder, while your eyes snap open, as if you’re not squeezing harder than before around his cock. 

“Oh, don’t drool, it’s not very ladylike,” Johnny taunts, smearing the spit that’s dripping out of the corners of your mouth with his thumb. 

You glare at him, but the frown on your face disappears as soon as his fingers reach your clit. You feel like screaming from the stimulation, but your whimpers and cries are muffled. 

“Keep quiet, babe, do you want to get caught?” 

You’d argue there’s nobody in miles, probably even the tow truck got lost somewhere in the fields, but you don’t. It’s hot, the sun is shining, and the wind is not helping right now, but you know that’s not the reason why you feel like you could pass out right now. Johnny knows what he’s doing, giving it to you like you like it the most, pushing all the right bottoms, and you know you won’t last long. 

“Close,” you mumble around his fingers, your watery eyes looking up at him that’s hovering over you, and he’d look more intimidating if the wind wasn’t blowing his blonde hair, making him look more like an angel. 

“I know, babe, come on, come for me,” he encourages you, throwing his head back when your nails sink in his thick arms as you try to hold on to him while pleasure overtakes you. You come, head rolled back while your lips close tightly around his fingers to conceal your moans, hips bucking against him, and pussy clenching so hard, Johnny can’t help but come too, realising his cum inside you, pumping his dick a few more times as he watches it drip down slowly. 

You can breathe normally again when Johnny pulls his fingers out, grinning as he cleans your face with his thumb. 

“You should apply the lipstick again, it’s kinda ruined now,” he chuckles, watching you try to recompose yourself, fixing your hair and dress, and doing the same. 

“I wonder whose fault is that.” 

Johnny lifts his hands in defence before standing up and holding his hand out for you. “I’m not the horny one that teased the other.” 

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes as you stand up with his help and then you both jump out of the truck. “The wait would’ve been so boring.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[wilbursprincess]

October 9- Dadbur’s New Neighbor

Dadbur x Charlotte

Warnings: Voice kink, praise kink, size kink (if you squint), so much dirty talk, dominant Dadbur, bratty Charlotte, some mentions of alcohol/drinking, Belle being very out of her element

Y’all, I have a confession to make. This is my favorite fic from the entirety of Fictober. I dipped my toes into character creating for Charlotte, and I hope you guys love her as much as I do!

Fic below cut!

“I got you, Daddy!” Wilbur’s daughter, Tallulah, says triumphantly, her gap-toothed smile melting any annoyance he might’ve had for loosing the third consecutive round of Candyland. “I got you!”

Wilbur chuckles. “Well done, sweetheart. Another game? We’ve got time for one more before it’s your bedtime.”

Tallulah shakes her head, her favorite red beanie almost slipping off her head. “I don’t wanna go to bed!” She protests in vain. “It’s not even dark out!”

Sighing, Wilbur pulls his daughter’s hat back on her head. “Why don’t I make us some cocoa, and we can go catch lightning bugs?”

All Tallulah’s annoyance at bedtime vanishes. “Yes!” She gasps. “Can we, can we?”

“Only if you don’t complain about going to bed afterwards.” Wilbur laughs, kissing his daughter on the forehead and standing up from the living room floor. “C’mon, ‘Lulah. Do you want whipped cream or marshmallows on yours?”

The 7 year old girl smiles, taking her dad’s hand as they walk to the kitchen. “Both?”

“Only for my precious little girl.”

Wilbur has plenty of time to think as his daughter runs around on the grass of their backyard. It was barely a year since Tallulah’s mum had walked out on them, and he was glad to see it hadn’t affected her too much. Wilbur’s mum took her for a few days each week now that she was finished with school for the summer, which was just as much fun for her as it was a break for him. Being a single dad was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he loved little Tallulah so fiercely, it made it all worth it.

“Daddy! I got one!” Wilbur’s pulled from his musings by Tallulah jumping onto his lap, a glowing bug crawling around on her palm.

Wilbur grins, wrapping an arm around his daughter. “That’s my clever girl. You want to let him go now?”

“Do I have to?” She asks, looking down at the light loosely held in her hand with a quivering lip. “Can we keep him? At least for tonight?”

His heart aches at her childhood carelessness. Even the little things are the biggest deal, since your world is so small.

“Don’t you want him to get home safely to his family?” Wilbur gently retorts, prying Tallulah’s fingers from around the tiny bug. “You wouldn’t want his dad to worry.”

She considers it for a moment, before letting him go. “Bye, Mr. Lightning bug!” She calls into the darkening sky. “Have fun with your family!”

“Time for bed, darling,” Wilbur says, both of them watching the lightning bug fly away. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Tallulah yawns, snuggling closer into her dad. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“I was thinking we could go to the park and then bake some cookies,” he replies, carefully scooping up his weary daughter and their empty mugs. “What do you think?”

Her eyes are closed, little arms wrapped tightly around Wilbur’s neck. She nods sleepily, and he can’t help but smile to himself as he carries her to bed.

The next afternoon, Wilbur’s just lifting Tallulah up so she can pull the cookies out of the oven when they hear what sounds like beeping from outside.

“What’s that, Daddy?” Tallulah asks, wide-eyed with curiosity. “What’s making that noise?”

Turning off the oven, Wilbur’s curiosity is piqued. “I’m not sure, darling. Let’s check it out.”

When he peers out the front window, he’s surprised to see a massive truck reversing into the neighbor’s driveway, red block letters spelling out Moving & Co on the side.

“That’s a big truck!” Tallulah observes. “What’s it for?”

Two men jump out of the truck and start to haul boxes out of the back. When Wilbur squints, he can see them labeled in colorful sharpie- ‘living room’, ‘office’, and ‘kitchen’.

“We’re getting a new neighbor, ‘Lulah!” Wilbur tells his daughter, who gasps exctedly.

The house next door to Wilbur and Tallulah’s was a tiny little one-bedroom, and had seen a series of young couples and college students over the years, but hadn’t been lived in for at least a year now.

As the men continue to unload the truck, a baby blue Volkswagen Beetle pulls up to the curb outside the house. The driver door opens, and Wilbur sees a woman step out. Short, curvy, and ginger, she bumps the door shut with her hip, purse swinging from the crook of her arm.

“Is she the neighbor?” Tallulah says, sounding a little disappointed. “I wanted someone with a kid my age. I want someone to play with.”

“Shh,” Wilbur replies, a little harsher than he intended; he’s more focused on his new neighbor.

He watches her walk up the driveway, long hair swinging with every step. She’s dressed simply- t-shirt, jeans, and a cardigan, looking a little travel-weary, but Wilbur finds her beautiful.

“Can we go say hi?” Tallulah begs, tugging on Wilbur’s sleeve. “Please?”

Wilbur starts to say no, but realises he’s just as curious about this woman as his daughter.

“Of course, sweetheart. Why don’t we plate up a few of those cookies for her?”

“Hi!” Tallulah yells across the yard as she sprints towards their new neighbor, and Wilbur’s very glad he insisted on taking the cookies.

The woman turns around, and her face lights up at the sight of them. “Hi, sweetie!” She says warmly. “To who do I owe the pleasure?”

Tallulah stands in front of her, spinning around to point at Wilbur, crossing the lawn at a normal pace. “My daddy.”

“Your daddy, hm?” She says, flicking her eyes up and down Wilbur’s body so fast, he can’t tell if he imagined it. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you both. I’m Charlotte.”

“I’m Wilbur,” Wilbur replies, offering her a handshake and the plate of cookies. “And this is my daughter Tallulah. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Tallulah is still gazing in awe at Charlotte. “I made those cookies with my daddy,” she says proudly.

Charlotte smiles fondly down at the little girl. “That’s so sweet of you both,” she says, bending down to take the hug Tallulah is offering.

“Where are you from?” Wilbur asks his new neighbor once Tallulah sits at her feet.

“London,” Charlotte replies, sitting next to Tallulah and motioning for Wilbur to do the same. “I wanted to get out of the city, and it was too bloody expensive for me, living alone. I’m enjoying the silence already.”

Wilbur laughs. “I lived in London for awhile, too,” he says. “I agree. Too bloody expensive.”

Tallulah nudges Charlotte. “Try the cookies!”

She reaches for a cookie and breaks it in half, offering half to Tallulah before taking a massive bite. “This is delicious,” she mumbles around her mouthful. “I’m starving.”

“Do you want any lunch?” Wilbur offers as Charlotte reaches for another cookie. “I was just about to heat up some leftovers, there’s plenty for you too.”

“Really?” Charlotte stops mid-chew. “You’d do that?”

Wilbur smiles at her. “Of course.”

Tallulah runs ahead of Wilbur and Charlotte as they step through the front door, leaving the two new aquantances in an awkward silence.

“I love this wallpaper,” Charlotte offers. “Your house is really nice.”

Wilbur tries to keep his face neutral. “Thank you. Tallulah’s mum redid the whole place when we moved in.”

Charlotte’s silent, nibbling her bottom lip and clearly embarrassed. “Sorry,” she says finally. “Thought wallpaper was a safe conversation starter.”

Her little joke lightens the air considerably, and Wilbur can feel affection blooming in his chest for his neighbor already. “You’re fine,” he laughs, leading her to the kitchen. “She left us just over a year ago. Tallulah took it pretty hard, but it’s nice to see her smile again.”

“She’s such a sweetheart,” Charlotte grins. “What’s on the menu?”

Pulling open the fridge with a flourish, Wilbur proudly holds up a glass Tupperware container. “Leftover spaghetti with about 3.5 meatballs. Tallulah ate most of them last night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Laughing, Charlotte shakes her head, auburn waves flying around her face. “She’s so cute, I can’t complain. Thanks again for lunch, Wilbur.”

“Call me Will,” he replies, almost without thinking. “And maybe don’t thank me until after you try my cooking. I’m not the most adept in the kitchen.

Charlotte snorts. “Why would I complain about a free lunch?”

Wilbur slyly observes Charlotte as she taps her foot against the leg of the chair, seemingly lost in her old world. The red hair he had observed when she stepped out of the car isn’t actually red like he thought- it’s a shiny auburn, almost brunette now she’s out of the sun. Her eyes are a fierce, sparkling sapphire; the deep blue of the Brighton sea.

“Are you going to ask me about myself, or just try and read my mind while you stare at me?” Charlotte’s sweet voice makes Wilbur jump, and she giggles at his shock. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Wilbur turns around to open the fridge to hide his flushed, embarrassed face. “So, Charlotte, tell me about yourself,” he deadpans. “Better?”

When he looks back over, his new neighbor is grinning; a genuine, beaming smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “There we go,” she laughs. “My full name is Charlotte Hughes, I was born and raised in London, I like to crochet, read, and garden in my free time, and my favorite color is blue. I think I covered most of the questions, no?”

“Not a bad summary,” Wilbur agrees. “My turn. My full name is Wilbur Soot, I was also born and raised in London, I like to play the guitar and write music in my free time, and my favorite color is teal.”

The microwave beeps- lunch is ready. But Wilbur’s not focused on the lunch, he’s focused on the enigma of a woman sitting at his kitchen table.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice snaps Wilbur to his senses as she runs into the kitchen, clutching a piece of crayon-scribbled paper. “I drew us!”

Charlotte smiles at the little girl. “Aww, you drew you and your daddy! Can I see?”

Tallulah excitedly shows her the drawing, and Charlotte looks amused, shooting a look at Wilbur, who’s scooping spaghetti onto three plates. “Why don’t you show him?”

“Daddy, look!” Wilbur’s daughter says, pressing the paper into his hand. He glances down at it and does a double take. It’s a drawing of the two of them- and Charlotte.

“You clever girl,” Wilbur says, forcing his face to hide the shock. “You drew Daddy’s new friend!”

Charlotte shoots a look at Wilbur. “Your new friend, hm? What an honor.”

A few days have passed since Wilbur met Charlotte, and he can’t stop thinking about her. He focuses on keeping Tallulah fed, entertained, and happy, but it’s when he’s alone that he lets his mind wander next door.

On the third day after Charlotte moved in, Wilbur heads across their shared lawn with a nice bottle of wine, a massive bouquet of flowers, and a few bags of crisps. A welcome gift, he’ll call it, blaming himself for not knowing her move-in date and having it ready then.

Charlotte opens the door right away after he knocks, almost like she was waiting for him. “Will!” She greets him warmly, beckoning him inside. “What’s all this?”

“A welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift, several of them,” he says, trying to sound casual as he slips off his shoes. “Tallulah’s at my mum’s, so I thought I’d keep you company for a few hours.”

She grins. “Aww, how thoughtful. Just let me get the dirt off my hands, I was just out in the garden.”

Charlotte’s wearing a simple blue sundress today, auburn waves pulled back with a crochet bandana that looks handmade. While she washes her hands, Wilbur glances around the little house. There’s not much more than a bunch of boxes, the only furniture he sees is a slightly tired couch, a worn coffee table, and Tallulah’s drawing from the day they met taped to the wall.

“I haven’t done much unpacking,” Charlotte says apologetically, like she read his mind. “Actually, since you’re here, I could use a hand bringing some boxes upstairs?”

Wilbur smiles. “No problem. Any chance to show off my muscles,” he deadpans, flexing his bicep and stifling a giggle. Charlotte blushes, holding a hand over her mouth as she laughs. “Where are they?”

Charlotte points him to a stack of boxes next to the staircase, and motions for him to grab the top box. Wilbur’s arms ache immediately, the box heavier than expected, but feigns indifference and starts to walk up the stairs.

“Oh, Will,” she gasps, taking half the box’s weight in her hands, fingers just brushing Wilbur’s. “Those are my mystery novels, and they’re super heavy! Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he lies, some strange feeling swirling in his stomach at the feeling of Charlotte’s fingers on his. “I didn’t pique you as the type to like mystery novels!”

She giggles. “Oh, there’s plenty for you to still learn about me, Will.” She clearly means it lightly, but his brain immediately spirals down filthy alleys. “My bedroom’s straight ahead, by the way, you can set it down there.”

Charlotte’s bedroom doesn’t have more than a mattress on the floor, sheets piled in a heap and pillow askew.

“You really haven’t done any unpacking, have you?” Wilbur jokes, setting down the box.

She shakes her head. “I got a new bedframe and furniture from Ikea… but I haven’t felt like putting it together yet. Not on top of everything I’ve already had to do.”

Wilbur pauses. “Well, since I’m here…”

An hour later, they’re halfway through a bottle of wine and devoured a bag of crisps, Wilbur’s neglected toolbox between them and a half-finished bed frame on the floor.

“Thanks again for the help, Will,” Charlotte murmurs, kneeling on the floor holding a screwdriver. Wilbur’s right next to her, holding the box of screws. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem, Char.” The nickname slips from Wilbur’s lips without him thinking, and he instantly bites his tongue.

“Did you just call me Char?” Charlotte fixes him with her beautiful blue eyes, a gorgeous flush rising through her freckled cheeks.

Wilbur pauses. “Depends on if you like being called that.”

She nods. “I do.”

Her tongue licks at her bottom lip, then she nibbles on it, a tiny thing that drives Wilbur mad.

If he didn’t know before, he knew now. He knew just how badly he wanted her, knew that they could get as far as he wanted in the two hours before he had to pick up his daughter, right on the mattress he was practically sitting on. He wonders if she’s wearing panties under that adorable little sundress.

Then he catches himself.

“Didn’t quite think you were the type to be called Lottie,” he says, forcing himself to keep his mind on the task at hand.

If Charlotte is disappointed, she doesn’t show it. “Not one bit,” she laughs. “Primary school is one thing, being in my mid-20s is another.”

She’s sitting with her legs tucked under her, dress spread out over her upper thighs, breasts straining against a scoop neckline. Tiny bow earrings match the rose gold wireframes of her glasses, and when she leans down to fasten a leg to the frame, a chunk of hair falls in her face. Wilbur resists the urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ear, and kiss her senseless.

“Is that a record player?” Wilbur asks, hoping to change the subject. “I didn’t know you were into music.”

Charlotte follows his gaze. “It is!” She says happily. “I’ll show you my record collection. It was the first thing I unpacked.”

She plonks a heavy box in Wilbur’s lap, leaving him to go through it while she gets back to work on the bed frame. evermore and folklore by Taylor Swift; Hello Sadness and Romance Is Boring by Los Campesinos!; AM and Favorite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys; Dreaming Out Loud by One Republic; Divide, Multiply, and Subtract by Ed Sheeran, and many others, both familiar and unfamiliar to Wilbur.

“This is an amazing collection,” Wilbur says after awhile, and Charlotte nods in agreement. “I didn’t strike you as the type to like the Arctic Monkeys or Los Camp.”

“You can put one on, if you like?” She replies. “We need a break from building.”

After a few moments, the record player crackles to life, the intro to By Your Hand starting to play. Charlotte smiles when she recognises it.

“This is my favorite song from Los Camp,” she says, standing up and offering her hand to Wilbur. “Will you dance with me?”

He couldn’t say no, even if he was trying to keep his thoughts PG, or at least PG-13.

Wilbur takes her hand in his, her tiny hand obscured by his as he spins her around, dress raising dangerously high. Charlotte takes his other hand, trying in vain to spin him around, too.

“You’re too tall,” she pouts, making him laugh as he dips her back over his arm, dramatically pointing her leg in the air like a ballerina. “Can you tell I have no clue what I’m doing?”

“That makes two of us, love,” Wilbur says, turning his face away as they start a clumsy tango so she can’t see how red his face is.

“You’re a lifesaver, Char,” Wilbur says, rushing into his jacket and shoes, giving little Tallulah a peck on the forehead. “Sorry for the last minute babysitting. Call me if you need anything, my number’s on the fridge.”

“Don’t worry about it, Will,” she says, flicking her hand as if to brush away the apology. “Go look after your mum, and Tallulah and I can have a girl’s night.”

Tallulah blinks up at her dad, tears pooling in the corners of her dark eyes. “Granny’s going to be ok, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Wilbur promises. “She’s just had a bit of a fall, and needs me to pick her up from A&E and help her settle in back home. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Charlotte hands Wilbur his car keys. “Don’t worry about us, Will,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand. “You worry about looking after your mum, and I’ll take care of your little angel for you.”

When Wilbur glances over his shoulder after shutting the door, he sees his daughter clinging to Charlotte’s leg, who appears to be wiping her tears and trying to make her laugh. She waves, Tallulah following suit, and Wilbur immediately feels the wave of love he’s been trying to ignore for his sweet little neighbor flooding back.

Typical of the British medical system, it takes much longer for Wilbur to get his mum discharged and settled at home, meaning Charlotte calls him so he can tell Tallulah goodnight.

“Daddy and Granny love you so much, darling,” Wilbur promises his daughter through the phone. “You’ll see me in the morning.”

Wilbur: thank you so so so much again

Charlotte: it’s no issue! tallulah’s a sweetheart.

Charlotte: she’s fast asleep btw

Wilbur: seriously i cannot thank you enough

Wilbur: make yourself at home, you’re welcome to anything in the fridge and you can stay in my room for the night if you want

Charlotte: really?

Wilbur: it’s the least i can do

When he does finally get home, it’s 4am, and the house is silent. Wilbur first checks on Tallulah, who’s still asleep, and then walks into his room, where Charlotte is dead asleep on his bed. Wake me when you’re home, a note on the nightstand reads, so you can get some sleep.

“Char,” he whispers, gently shaking her shoulder. “Char. Wake up.”

She groans, rolling from her stomach to her back and blinking at him in the dim light. “How’s your mum?”

“Better,” Wilbur sighs. “How’s ‘Lulah?”

“Been asleep since around 9pm,” Charlotte replies, yawning. “She misses you.”

“You’re welcome to the couch if you’re still half asleep,” Wilbur whispers, but there’s no reply. “Char? You awake?”

A snore is his only reply.

“Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice wakes Wilbur up, but the tiny body leaping directly onto his stomach makes him even more awake. “You’re home! Why’s Charlotte still here?”

“Hm?” Wilbur manages to reply through the blur of sleep, looking over with a jolt to see Charlotte’s on the other side of the bed.

“Because your daddy woke me up when he got home, and he kindly let me stay over when he saw how tired I was,” Charlotte murmurs. “How’d you sleep, sweetie?”

Tallulah leaps over onto Charlotte. “Great! What about you guys?”

Wilbur groans and buries his face in the pillow.

“Your daddy is really sleepy, baby,” Charlotte gently explains. “He was up all night looking after your Gran. Why don’t I make you some breakfast and we let him sleep a bit more?”

He tries to murmur his thanks to her, but he falls asleep again before the words leave his mouth.

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” laughs Charlotte, hands on her hips as Wilbur walks down the stairs several hours later. “Feeling better now?”

“She made me pancakes,” Tallulah announces to nobody in particular, running up to Wilbur and smearing her sticky, maple syrup face all over his pajama pants.

Charlotte’s sipping from Wilbur’s favorite mug, hair lazily twisted into a knot on top of her head. She’s still in the clothes she came over in last night, baby blue sweatpants and a white tshirt, but looks fresh as a daisy.

“Did she, now?” Wilbur smiles, scooping up his daughter and kissing her on the forehead. “You two had fun yesterday?”

Tallulah nods. “She did my hair, and we colored, and we made muffins, and we played outside, and we-”

“I made you coffee, Will,” Charlotte interrupts, handing him a steaming mug.

Wilbur blinks.

“Your daddy’s still tired, Tallulah,” Charlotte giggles. “Why don’t you go play in your room for awhile and let him wake up?”

When Tallulah’s gone, she takes him by the arm and sits him on the sofa.

“You’re really good with Tallulah,” Wilbur manages after he takes several gulps of the coffee. “You planning on a family of your own someday?”

To his surprise, Charlotte shakes her head. “Nah. I could see myself either marrying someone with older kids, or maybe adopting. They’re only bearable when they’re not vaguely sentient potatoes.”

Wilbur snorts, almost spilling the coffee. “You’re not wrong. I love Tallulah, but man, I don’t miss the baby phase.”

“Her mum was still in the picture then?” Charlotte asks, somewhat awkwardly, and he nods. “I still can’t imagine being a single parent. You’re a great dad.”

Wilbur sips his coffee to hide the flush in his face. “You make great coffee, Char,” he says, changing the subject. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Charlotte’s mouth drops open, and he realises with a lurch what he just said. “Shit, you knew what I meant,” Wilbur adds quickly, and wonders if he’s imagining the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

“I mean, you did technically wake up next to me this morning, so I’ll allow it,” she teases after a moment of silence.

“At least I don’t snore,” Wilbur retorts, and Charlotte giggles, undoing her topknot and leaning towards him with a gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t hear you snore either.”

She winks. “You’re lucky I didn’t roll right into your arms. I’m a pretty restless sleeper.”

“I’d just have to hold you tight if you did, so you wouldn’t roll onto the floor!”

“With those strong arms of yours?” Charlotte pokes his bicep. “You’d crush me!”

Wilbur shoots her a sly grin. “Wanna bet?” He asks, barely hesitating before scooping her into his arms. She’s tiny, not even coming up to his shoulder when standing, but feels even tinier when he holds her.

“Oof,” she giggles, wriggling around, trying in vain to get free. “You’re too strong!”

They’re laughing too hard to notice Tallulah coming downstairs until she’s standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing?” She asks curiously. “Are you two wrestling?”

“Yes, we are, sweetheart,” Wilbur says awkwardly, all too aware of what that euphemism usually stands for, and Charlotte snorts.

“Yay!” She yells, jumping onto the two of them. “I want Auntie Charlotte to stay forever!”

Wilbur glances at his daughter sitting happily in Charlotte’s lap.

Me too.

Wilbur and Charlotte’s platonic-yet-flirty friendship continues. She’s over for dinner more often than not, and Wilbur spends the afternoons Tallulah’s out of the house at Charlotte’s, helping her unpack and build her new furniture.

She’s mostly platonic around Wilbur and his daughter, but there’s always a comment or two that sticks in his head when he’s in bed at night.

“Your mum was a very lucky person, sweetheart,” she’d said to Tallulah one night, stroking the little girl’s hair while Wilbur cooked dinner for the three of them. “Your daddy is a wonderful man.”

Wilbur had to turn away so Charlotte didn’t see him blushing a fierce red.

Another time, likely fueled by the bottle of wine they were sharing, she got bolder. “Are you seeing anyone right now?” She asked, eyes looking anywhere but his face.

“Uh, why do you ask?” He replied curiously. “I’m not, no. Not really looking to while Tallulah’s so young, but I miss getting laid.”

He immediately regretted the last line, but Charlotte burst out laughing, spilling her wine down her shirt. “Just making conversation, Will, don’t fret,” she said, patting his knee affectionately. “I get what you mean though. God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.”

Wilbur had gone home after that, desperately rutting into his hand as he pictured Charlotte’s bright eyes, the wine seeping across her ample bosom, and her delicate little voice repeating God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.

He was ashamed afterwards, roughly cleaning himself up with a tissue and managing to miss the bin when he goes to throw it out. Before he can catch himself, he wonders if she ever did the same thing while thinking about him.

After Wilbur drops Tallulah off at his mum’s house a few days later, he heads over to Charlotte’s, as per usual. He doesn’t even have to knock anymore- just opens the door to see a smiling Charlotte uncorking the usual bottle of wine.

“Will!” She greets him, handing him a glass. “How’s your mum doing?”

“A lot better,” he reports happily. “I think Tallulah’s helping her out.”

The two of them head into the living room, where Charlotte’s got her TV set up. It’s midway through a Star Wars movie.

“Ooh, Return of the Jedi, nice,” Wilbur says, sitting next to her and grabbing a handful of crisps. “My favorite.”

“Mine too!” Charlotte gasps. “No way.”

Wilbur laughs. “Who’s your favorite? Mine’s Han.”

“Leia. She’s a badass who gets to date the hottest guy,” she replies, a flush rising in her freckled cheeks. “I see why Han’s your favorite.”

He snorts into his wine. “And why’s that?”

“Han doesn’t open himself up to affection or love, but when he does, he gets the princess.” Charlotte rests her chin on his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

Wilbur shakes his head, puzzled. “Should it?”

“Christ, you’re as thick as it gets,” she sighs, taking his face in her dainty little hands and kissing him.

It takes him a second to react, but when he does, he kisses her hungrily, scooping her into his lap in the desperation to get her closer. Charlotte’s hands stroke down his chest over his shirt, Wilbur’s finger hooked into the belt loop of her jeans, tugging her closer.

“Char, my goodness,” he murmurs against her lips.

“Mmm, that sounds so nice when you say it,” Charlotte sighs happily.

Wilbur pulls back slightly, a smirk playing on her face. “Someone has a voice kink.”

“So what if I do?” She answers playfully. “Like I told you, there’s plenty more for you to still learn about me.”

He starts to undo the buttondown shirt tucked into Charlotte’s jeans, exposing her lacy bralette just as she unbuckles his belt.

“Is this a good time to tell you I have a crush on you?” Wilbur teases, tossing the buttondown onto the floor along with his belt.

Charlotte laughs, reaching for his shirt and practically tearing it off. “Is this a good time to tell you I love giving head?”

“Oh, really?” Wilbur grins as she slides onto the floor and unbuttons his fly. “You love giving head?”

She kneels in front of him, biting her lip and nodding.

Wilbur pulls his jeans down to his knees, smirking. “Well, then, prove it to me.”

Charlotte winks, reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out. Her eyes widen.

“I know, it’s big,” he tells her, giving himself a few long, slow strokes, precum dripping down his fingers. “You can take it.”

She bends her head down, slowly circling her tongue around the very tip. Wilbur groans, pressing his head against the back of the sofa. The edge of Charlotte’s tongue traces down the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, then lazily back up, tiny fireworks of pleasure exploding in the very pit of his stomach.

“You look so good down there, Char,” Wilbur praises, tilting her chin up so she’s forced to look at him, resting a thumb glistening with precum on her lower lip. Without hesitation, she licks it off, swiping her tongue around her lips. “You like how I taste, hm?”

“So good,” Charlotte whispers, pressing a kiss onto the crest of each hip bone, then licking down his happy trail.

Wilbur’s hips jump up as she finally takes his length into her soft, warm mouth, roughly grabbing a fistful of her hair to guide her head up and down. One of her dainty little hands is stroking him where her mouth can’t reach, the other tracing circles on his thigh.

He tries to at least somewhat keep his composure, but Charlotte knows exactly what she’s doing, and as the pleasure gets more intense, he can’t keep it up much longer.

“Oh- fuck, Char, baby,” he manages to gasp out, toes curling, eyes rolled back in his head. He’s making an effort not to thrust down her throat and choke her, legs shaking from both the effort and pleasure.

Wilbur’s a shaking, whining, pathetic little mess, and Charlotte can tell. He knows she can tell. The way her sapphire gaze fixes him as she bobs her head, the smirk escaping even with his cock stuffed in her mouth.

It takes every single last ounce of strength in his body to not give into the climax, the fury of it building up, hot and explosive, shivers running through his entire body. Just before he spills deep down Charlotte’s throat, he pulls her off. Every single cell in his body is screaming from the ruined orgasm, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting his hips into the air, desperately searching for more stimulation.

“Don’t…” Wilbur gasps in a breath. “Don’t want this to be over yet.”

Charlotte looks at him slyly. “Wanna head upstairs? I have condoms in my nightstand”

He’s standing up before the sentence fully leaves her mouth, taking Charlotte’s hand and letting her lead him up the staircase and into her bed.

Feeling her underneath him, bare skin on bare skin, is better than Wilbur could’ve ever imagined. He wages a brief, successful war on the clasp of her bra, dropping it on the floor and drinking in the sight of her.

Kissing a line down her chest, Wilbur tweaks one of her nipples with his teeth before circling it with his tongue. His hand snakes into her jeans, effortlessly undoing the fly and creeping into her soaked panties.

“Mmm, you’re drenched, love,” he murmurs, somewhat muffled by her tit in his mouth. “You’re going to feel like heaven when I’m finally inside you.”

Charlotte moans softly, weakly grabbing his wrist as his nimble fingers find her clit. “Fuck, keep talking,” she pleads.

“You’ve been driving me crazy since we met,” Wilbur whispers into her ear, biting her earlobe and leaving a hickey on her neck. Her nails dig into Wilbur’s back as he slips one finger inside her, then another. “Want you to be nice and ready for my cock, darling. Want to be able to feel you come undone around me, moaning my name.”

Charlotte’s hips shift, grinding down as she tries to ride his fingers. “No, no, Char,” he gently chides. “The only thing you should be riding is my cock. This is just the warm-up.”

He pulls his head back, slipping his fingers out of her and licking them clean. “I wanna see you. I almost came in my pants when I took your bra off, and couldn’t resist seeing the rest,” he says, tugging off the rest of her clothes

Charlottes’s even better than he imagined under her clothes, a pile of freckled heart shapes and soft curves. Wilbur kisses her collar bone, each freckle on her chest, her belly button and each hip bone, hands nestled into the curve of her waist.

As he takes his boxers and jeans off, he thinks there’s been enough foreplay for the time being, and she clearly agrees. “Hang on,” she breathes, rolling over to dig in her nightstand and pulling out a condom. “May I?”

“One second,” Wilbur says, gentle pushing her hand away. “Before we do this, Char… no matter where this night takes our friendship, my daughter will always come first.”

Charlotte nods. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Will,” she murmurs, kissing his nose.

“Thank you,” he replies, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. “I knew you’d understand. However… now that that’s out of the way-”

She smiles, tearing open the foil packet with her teeth and rolling it onto his cock with an expert hand.

Wilbur lines himself up, and the first thrust makes them both gasp. “Fuck, you’re so big,” Charlotte whines, arching her back under him. Even through the latex, he can tell she’s absolutely soaking wet and stuffed to the brim with his cock.

She’s letting out a tiny moan each time he thrusts into her, one of Wilbur’s massive hands supporting her lower back and the other caressing the nape of her neck, kissing her so softly compared to how he’s fucking her.

Charlotte’s nails leave tiny half-moon dents along his bare back, her body practically trembling from the overwhelming pleasure. Wilbur’s sure she’d collapse onto the mattress if he wasn’t holding her up.

Her face is otherworldly, plump pink lips in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes rolled so far back, Wilbur can barely see the blue he loves so much. He moves his hand from the nape of Charlotte’s neck, slipping it between their joined bodies and stroking her clit in time with his thursts.

“Will!” She practically screams out, sinking her teeth into his lower lip as her entire body tightens. He doesn’t change up a single movement as he pushes her through a shattering orgasm, in awe of her perfect body in the aftermath of what just hit her.

“Did you-” Charlotte starts to ask, chest heaving, sweat dripping.

Wilbur shakes his head, dropping onto the mattress next to her. “No, baby. I’ve got enough left in me to give you another. Ride me?”

Her face lights up like she’s been waiting her whole life for him to ask that very question. Before he can react, Charlotte’s hovering just above his achingly hard cock, hands resting on his chest for leverage.

Wilbur’s hands paw at her hips, and he has to hold his breath as she sinks herself down, willing himself to hold off for at least a few more minutes.

“Fu-” he groans. “Char, holy shit.”

She somehow looks even better from this angle. Perfect tits bouncing against her rosy, freckled skin as she adjusts to his cock, auburn waves hanging over her flushed face, curvy hips starting to move as she rides him.

“Just like that, baby,” Wilbur murmurs, starting to thrust up into her once she finds her pace. “Just like that.”

She’s riding him like her life depends on it, so wet that she’s soaked her sheets and Wilbur’s lower stomach. He can practically feel her throbbing with sheer, desperate lust.

Their two joined bodies rock in unison, so smoothly it’s hard to believe they were strangers not even a month before. They’re both slick with sweat, flushed with arousal; bodies littered with nail marks, nibbles, hickeys, and other blatant signs of sex. It’s a good thing summers in England are dreary- turtlenecks will be their friends for the next few days.

“Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, Char, there, right there, just like that, fucking hell,” Wilbur moans, all inhibitions out the window as he teeters on the edge of an explosive climax.

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte groans, entire body trembling as he pushes her into her second high. Now that he’s satisfied his girl, not once, but twice, Wilbur can let go. And let go he does- riding out possibly the best orgasm of his life, pressed against Charlotte’s tits as he fills up the condom, grasping at her body for leverage against the aftershocks.

Laying back against Charlotte’s pillow, he dimly realises she’s climbed off him, leaning up to wipe his sweaty brow with a tender hand.

“You alright?” She asks tentatively, stroking a finger down his cheek.

He manages to nod.

“Holy shit,” Wilbur murmurs. “Char, that was… something else.”

She kisses him softly, hands caressing the hickies she’s left all over his neck and chest. Somehow, even after all she’s put it through, his cock twitches. She really was that incredible.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he murmurs, and Charlotte laughs softly, coming to lay against him. Her smile-dimpled cheek is pressed against his stubble, one leg swung lazily over his waist. “I could spend the rest of the night with you, just like this.”

“Don’t you have to pick up Tallulah?”

“She’s staying at my mum’s tonight. How do you feel about a sleepover?”

The morning after goes exactly as expected. Wilbur and Charlotte wake up together as a pile of tangled limbs, and when she makes a sly comment about how good morning wood feels, he can’t help but bend her over and pound into her until she’s almost sobbing from pleasure.

And the days after? Nothing between them changes… in front of Tallulah, of course. Tallulah is overjoyed at her Auntie Charlotte being around more often, and Wilbur’s mum is loving the extra time with her granddaughter when Wilbur and Charlotte want some alone time. The sex is mindblowing, their friendship is close. Not bad for someone who just happened to move in next door.

[somber-sapphic]

Hiya! if you are open to requests can I ask for a sick Carina fic set during a clinic day where Carina drags herself in despite Maya telling her to go home, but when shes there, s19 has to go on a call, by the time theyre back shes exhausted herself and barely awake (Maya finds her asleep on one of the beds)

"You've really got the sniffles today, haven't you?" + “If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." + "It's not like you to get this sick."

Clinic Daze

〖Summary: Sometimes Carina doesn't have any choice but to work while sick, luckily Maya (and the a lumpy bed) are there to help her〗

〖Word Count: 1.6k〗

〖Pairing: Sick Carina x Maya〗

〖Notes: After watching s7e9 I needed some comfort, thank you for this ask. Also my hand started cramping up while I was finishing this so that's fun

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Carina sneezed into her mask and sniffled, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face as she tried to make sense of the chart sitting in her lap. She knew her report was hard to decipher; she just needed to be sure others could read it. She was done for the day, this was the last thing on her list and then she was going home, Maya had promised to take her home if she had to stay the whole day. 

“Carina, why are you still here?” The brunette looked up to see her wife striding over, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. Carina straightened automatically, feeling as though she was a small child being scolded. Maya had told her not to come to work and had been telling her to leave between patients. She sneezed twice instead of responding, the bursts coming in quick succession. 

“If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." The EMT said, her tone serious. When she had seen her this morning she had been slightly concerned for her health but as the day went on the ball of anxiety in her stomach grew. 

“They couldn’t get anyone else, I need to be here,” Carina replied, her voice grating and weary. She had laughed at Maya when the woman suggested that she not come into the clinic today, she hadn’t felt bad at all, just a bit run down. Another sneeze rattled her body and she ducked away, shame coloring her cheeks. She had been so wrong.

“You’ve really got the sniffles today, haven't you?” Maya said sympathetically, offering the doctor a tissue from the box sitting next to her. She accepted and pulled the mask down, revealing a mess of snot and a bright red nose. 

She tossed the mask in the trash, no longer having any use for it. The patients were gone and Maya was pretty much bound to get sick considering the two lived together, plus it had been ruined by her frequent sneezing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Maya paused and glanced down at her phone, relieved to see 5:00pm flashing across the screen. “Okay, the clinic's closed. Finish up whatever you’re doing right now and I’ll take you home, I don’t want you driving like this.” Carina nodded in silent agreement and grabbed another tissue, blowing her nose with a gurgling sound. 

Maya bent down and kissed her hairline, her lips meeting hot damp skin. The fever was an obvious next step but she needed to be confident it was there so that she could figure out what exactly she wanted to do to help her wife. 

Just as Carina tucked the file away and was about to stand up an alarm sounded throughout the station requesting the truck and aid car. Maya looked up helplessly as her team began to gear up, torn between staying to take care of Carina and going to do her job. 

“Bishop, we need you, let's go!” Andy shouted, noticing Maya’s hesitation. The captain glanced between her second and the obviously sick doctor and felt a prickle of guilt in the back of her neck. “Bishop, I’m sorry but we need you. Carina, go make yourself comfortable, we'll be back as soon as we can.”

“Go, it’s okay. I’ll wait here.” Carina rasped, punctuating the sentence with a grating cough. Maya pressed one last quick kiss to the top of her wife’s forehead and bolted towards the truck, gearing up at record speed. 

Carina watched in admiration as she leaped into the fire engine and sped away. She felt a little safer every time she watched 19 work together, the way they all moved with such confidence made her feel better not only about the safety of the people of Seattle but for the woman she loved. 

With a shaky sigh, Carina stood, wobbling slightly as she angled her body toward the stairs. It was technically a part of her job to clean up after clinic day but she was too dizzy and tired to think it worthy of her time. The firefighters could get in and out just fine which was all that she cared about. 

The brunette stumbled her way up the stairs, needing to pause halfway up to sit and catch her breath. She hadn’t been walking around much the last few hours, opting to roll around the bay of the station in a wheely chair. It had done wonders for keeping her young patients entertained and had been far faster than walking would have. 

The heat in her face and behind her eyes told Carina that she had a fever but she was freezing, her thin scrubs doing nothing to combat the chills raging through her body. The doctor in her knew that she should find a thermometer, take her temperature, and treat accordingly but the patient in her wanted to go crawl into bed and stay there until she felt better. 

She lurched toward the bunks, stopping off at Maya’s locker to snag a sweatshirt on her way. She decided that a doctor would probably also tell her to sleep so she would be listening to the imaginary doctor for the time being. 

After at least ten minutes of trying to remember which room Maya slept in, Carina found what she hoped was the right one and crawled into what she hoped was her wife’s bed. She figured that they couldn’t be too mad at her if she ended up in someone else's bed and if they were she could pull the fever card. 

Carina pulled the sweatshirt over her head and buried her face in the front, pretending to be held in Maya’s arms. It wasn't anywhere near the real thing but at least she had some piece of the medic there, something to hold. She curled up in the hard bed, drawing the blanket over herself. Part of her was worried about intruding in a space she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome but she felt too sick to do anything else.

A sudden clap of thunder crashed outside, making the sick woman flinch. She wasn’t afraid of storms but it had caught her off guard and the sudden shift in weather was disorienting. Had she been paying more attention to her surroundings she likely would’ve noticed the clouds rolling in and the steady rain that had begun over an hour ago but her delirious mind hadn’t been worrying about anything but staying awake. 

The thunderstorm came to be a welcome comfort that replaced her feverish thoughts about Maya’s safety and how cold she was. She wished that she had stolen a blanket from the laundry room before lying down. Soon that thought faded away too as the brunette sunk into the depths of sleep, her subconscious void of dreams leaving her in blissful quiet. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When Maya returned to the station she expected Carina to be eating dinner, watching TV, and maybe even still charting. They had only been gone a half hour, the fire had turned out to be a smoking toaster and the injury a minor burn. After giving the woman who had called them a lecture on when it was appropriate to call emergency services they had taken their leave, driving off into the storm. 

After searching every place she could think of Maya finally checked the bunks, wondering as she did so if her wife had left. She had never shown much interest in being in the living quarters of the station, actually taking great lengths to avoid intruding into the other firefighter's space. When she found Carina tucked into a little ball on her bed Maya understood how sick her wife must’ve been feeling.  

“Oh bella,” She whispered, sitting down on the bed beside her. She rested a palm on Carina's forehead, sucking in a breath at the heat she felt radiating from the doctor's skin. She pulled the hood of the sweatshirt down taking great care to not wake her up. Maya was touched that Carina had gone looking for something of hers for comfort but also felt guilty that she had left her alone.

“Is she okay?” Andy’s voice floated into the room, pulling Maya from the thoughts swirling around in her head. She shrugged and stroked Carina’s hair, eliciting a small whimper from the sleeping woman. 

“She will be. I wanted to give her a few more minutes of rest before I took her home.” Maya murmured, hesitating to wake her. Even on the uncomfortable mattress, wearing scrubs and a beat-up hoodie, this was the best she’d seen Carina sleep in weeks. She had been stressed about work and only averaging a few hours a night at best. 

“You can let her stay here if you’d like, the beds aren’t the most comfortable but it’s pretty bad outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got called in for a flooding rescue.” The last sentence was directed more towards Andy herself as she mused on how prepared they would need to be to deal with extreme weather circumstances. 

“Are you sure? I know she’s really not supposed to be here but it would be great if she could try to sleep some of this off uninterrupted.” Maya sat up a bit straighter, relief tinging her words. The idea of waking Carina up only to have to take her outside in the rain even for the walk to her car was something she would rather avoid.

Andy smiled slightly and nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Let me know if you need anything.” with that she walked away, leaving the blonde to care for the ailing doctor. 

“It’s not like you to get this sick,” Maya said to her still-sleeping wife, noticing a bit of drool in the corner of her open mouth. The way she was lying with her mouth open and nose wrinkled up she would’ve looked so silly if not for her illness. “Oh, I’m so using that for payback.” She snickered and took a quick picture before wiping the drool away and pressing a kiss to Carina’s temple. 

“Sleep well amore, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

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[ellies-star]

feels good. part 1

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader. 

an. lol attempting to write a lil dealer!ellie fic. aLsO there is no smut in this part sorryyy

synopsis. dina convinces ellie to go to Jesse's frat party, and somehow finds herself smoking with a girl in the back of her truck. (this is purely reader and ellie getting high and then fucking). warnings. 18+. mentions of drugs (nicotine and weed) and alcohol, ellie and reader smoke together, making out, sexual tension and suggestions?

Ellie had been planning out her Friday night all day. She had spent the entire week studying her ass off for exams, working at the coffee shop after classes and managing her side hustle; she was ready for a break. She fumbled with her keys for a moment before bursting through the front door of her shared apartment with a loud sigh of relief.

Her back slumped due to the excessive amount of biology textbooks weighing down her backpack. After finally shrugging it off her shoulders to her wooden floors, she crashed onto the couch with a groan. Her feet ached from standing on them all afternoon, making coffee for buzzing students– who definitely did not need that extra shot of espresso. She kicked off her black converse, sending them flying in different directions, finally settling her feet onto the coffee table in front of her. She sank into the plush cream couch pillows, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. “Honey I’m home!” She announced to her roommate blow drying her damp hair, and blasting Elephant by Tame Impala in the bathroom.

Dina swung open the door and revealed her dark locks blowing wildly from the dryer. Ellie could barely hear her over the loud sound of blasting air, but she managed to get a “welcome home dearest!” She thought she heard Dina say something else after retreating back to the bathroom, but the words were drowned out by the noise. Ellie shrugged it off, finally getting the chance to close her eyes. However, the moment of peace did not last long.

“Ellie! What are you doing? You can’t sleep!” Dina jumps onto the end of the couch, shaking Ellie’s legs awake. Ellie’s eyebrows furrow and she groans in response. For fucks sake, she thinks to herself.

“Why, so loud! The hell are you talking about, it’s nap time.” Ellie mumbles curling into a ball. Rolling her eyes, Dina lays her chin and arms on Ellie’s hips.

“Ellie we have to leave for Jesse’s party in like an hour, did you forget?” Ellie stays silent for a moment, humming while searching for the lost memory of when she agreed to this shindig. Then she grumbles, cursing her past self for getting into this predicament.

“Shit, yeah I did forget…” Ellie runs a hand down her face. “I don’t know D, I’m fucking exhausted.” Turning around and lifting her chin up to Dina who has moved to retrieve a hairbrush. “I had class from 9 to 3:45, and worked at Java till–” she looks at her watch– “20 minutes ago.” She throws her head back down to the seat cushions.

“I– yeah that’s a lot… I know this week has been brutal for you.” Dina pauses, “You don’t have to go, I just know Jesse was looking forward to seeing us both.” Dina looks down at her brush picking out the hair while leaning against the door frame.

Ellie scoffs at this. “You know I love Jesse, but he just wants me to go and be his plug for the night.” She begins to sit up, leaning her forearms onto her knees.

Dina shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, “Mmm, yes he did want you to sell at this party, but he also wanted to hangout! Y’know we’re his only friends outside of the frat.” Turning back around to the bathroom to start applying makeup. “Okay, how about this!” She bops her head back out, “It’s 8:30, you can take a nap and I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes. See how you’re feeling, then decide– Deal?”

Ellie ponders the offer, she does believe in the power of, well, a power nap. And a redbull.

“Deal.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Ellie pulls up the road to the infamous house of Sigma Omicron Pi (ΣΟΠ). Different colored lights flooded from every window, a sea of drunk UCSC students painted the massive front lawn. The bass of Knock Knock by Mac Miller pouring out of the house’s speakers. She pulls her 1997 Land Cruiser into park a few feet away from the mess. The homes in the neighborhood were separated by at least 50 ft— making the perfect spot for a frat house.

She takes a swig of her half finished red bull, before turning off the engine. Looking to the passenger seat, she watches Dina apply more blush, concealer and whatever that last sparkly thing in a tube was. “D, you look fine. I don’t know why you bother.”

Dina rolls her eyes in response jokingly. “Not everyone can be a chapstick lesbian with perfect skin and lashes like you, Els.”

Ellie scoffs, “Shut up, you look good without makeup. That’s why I don’t think you need it.” She gets out of the car to grab a few dime bags and pre-rolls to shove into her black herschel shoulder bag.

Dina finishes applying some lip gloss and closing the visor mirror. “Yeah I know, but sexy eyeliner and glitter makes me feel good.” She flashes Ellie a grin and wink before opening the car door. “Now let’s go! We’re late, and I’m too sober for this shit!”

Ellie barks a laugh while locking up her car, before following her towards the massive house.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The two were greeted by red solo cups littering the grass, creating a trail to the porch. They walked past a group of frat boys in the middle of an intense game of pong. Opening the green wooden door, the sheer volume of the music blasted Ellie in the face. The loud sounds shook her chest, the deep bass sending a vibration through her ears down to her ribcage. She could barely hear Dina say to keep an out for Jesse, even though they were only inches apart. The hallway leading to the living room was filled with more people, the two girls having to squeeze past them in zigzags.

Eventually they made it to the massive living room, a dance party occurring in the middle of the floor. There had to be around 50 people in this room alone. It was either sweaty bodies grinding against one another, the excessive amount of liquor in the jungle juice causing them to move loosely, or it was a group of people laughing and shoving one another into the dance circle.

Whatever it was, Ellie didn’t want any part of it. She continued to follow Dina into the kitchen— where they finally spotted Jesse.

She watched as Dina ran up to him, ending whatever conversation he was in the middle of. She kissed him in a rush, then pulled away leaving him beaming.

“Baby, you made it! I was wondering where you were.” Jesse smiles, while holding her close.

“Sorry, I know I know. Ellie needed an extra 15 minutes for her power nap.” Dina giggles, nodding her head in my direction.

He looks up to find Ellie leaning against the counter. “It’s good to see you Els, glad you could make it.” He steps away from Dina to pull Ellie into a hug.

“Yeah man, wouldn’t miss it.” She chuckles, letting go of his hand to adjust the strap of her bag. He eyes her movements, then remembers why he invited her.

“Did you uh, did you bring anything to sell by chance?” He dips his chin low and brings his face closer for Ellie to hear better over the loud music and conversations.

She nods, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. “Got a few dime bags and pre-rolls in here, got extra in the car too if ya need ‘em.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Sweet, there’s a group outside in the back and then in a room upstairs that were looking to buy. Sure you won’t run out any time soon.” He gives her another nod while slinging an arm around Dina. “Anyway, I was about to grab another drink— shall we?” He motions towards the open back door.

“Let’s go! I need a seltzer, asap.” Dina squeals while walking through the crowd of people.

The fresh air felt good against Ellie’s face. Even though they hadn’t been inside the house long, it set her body into a heat wave underneath her hoodie and black jeans. Jesse had grabbed Dina and him a new drink, then led Ellie to a group of people smoking cigarettes and sitting along the white fence.

“Yo Jesse, what’s good!” One of the boys leans off the ledge to greet him.

“Hey Josh, this is Ellie. She’s selling right now, if you’re still looking to buy.”

Josh looks over at Ellie with a goofy grin. He takes a drag before handing it to a girl on his left. “Yeah man! What’chu got?” His breath was hot, filled with the scent of tobacco and Mezcal.

“Wedding Cake and Blue dream in dime bags, and a few hybrid pre-rolls.” Ellie removes her hands from her pockets to open her crossbody bag. She lets the group look at a few samples.

“Shit, that sounds great. How much for the Wedding Cake and a joint?” The boy asks, while analyzing the work of her pre-rolls.

“Bags $15 and joints $5.”

“Sold.”

And just like that, Ellie went throughout the first two hours dealing left and right. Somehow, she found herself a cigarette and two beers in, with only a joint left in her bag. She had lost Dina and Jesse to the backyard after a game of rage cage at some point. Party games weren’t really her thing, she typically likes to be a fly on the wall— find a space to chill and smoke for a little bit, before Dina was ready to go home.

Which is exactly what Ellie planned to do.

The inside of the house was too loud, and the backyard was packed— as a frat party should be. Ellie didn’t know anyone else besides Dina and Jesse here, and she wasn’t really in the mood to mingle. As her Red Bull began to wear off, she remembered the front porch. She recalled it had a swing, and by this point most people had fled to the inside where there was dancing and more alcohol.

She opened the front door, the cool night air greeting her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, the smell of mixed smoke and cedar filled her nose. And when she exhaled, the door closed, and the obnoxious noise of house music faded— just a little.

However, her moment of peace was startled by the squeak of the porch swing. She jumped and stumbled slightly as she looked to her left; there sat a girl she hadn’t seen before— and Ellie would’ve remembered if she saw her, because she was stunning.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

You bore a cider in hand, leaning back into the wooden swing with a puzzled look on your face.

Shit… she’s pretty, Ellie thought to herself.

Your hair poured over your bare shoulders, keeping you warm from the brisk air. You sat crossed legged, in worn-out denim jeans and a loose olive green tank top.

Ellie’s hazy eyes trailed the goosebumps that arose on your tanned arms, all the way to your chest. You were braless, hard nipples poking through the thin cotton of your tank top.

“Anyone ever tell you that staring is rude?” You spoke. Self consciously you drew your knees up to your chest and took another swig from your cider.

Ellie lifted her gaze immediately and locked eyes with you, her cheeks burned crimson from embarrassment. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts, “Sorry, didn’t realize someone was already out here, uh I’ll just–” Ellie mumbled the last bit of her words, ready to turn on her heels and kick herself once she was back inside for the obvious ogling. You just chuckled in response.

“I’m messing with you– sort of. What’s your name?” A playful smile began to appear on your lips, they were the color of rose. Ellie made a mental note of how soft they looked pressed against the lip of your bottle. All Ellie could think was how she wishes they were pressed against–

“It’s uh… Ellie! It’s Ellie…” Jesus fucking christ did I seriously almost forget my own name?

You couldn’t help but giggle at her nervousness. “Well, uh Ellie, I’m Y/N. Wanna join me?” You patted the spot next to you on the wooden swing, and Ellie’s heart fluttered.

“Sure.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, despite the the intense pounding in her chest and twisted feeling in her stomach.

You shifted slightly in attempt to make more room for the blushing girl. She plopped softly onto the bench next to you, trying to make herself small. She still managed to brush your arm with her own. The short contact made you shiver.

“So, what brings you here? To the party I mean— pretty obvious you came outside to escape the mess in there.” You took another swig.

You watched as she turned her head away from you, and then it was your turn to stare. Ellie looked forward, showing off her delicate side profile, but strong jawline. Her lashes were long, and freckles painted her cheeks and nose like a map. You could see the gears turning in her head, she was debating something before looking back at you. You were mesmerized, her green eyes were the color of sunlight filtering through trees.

“I know Jesse, he’s a guy from the frat—” Ellie paused to swing her bag into her lap to pull out a plastic one, “—he asked me to deal for the party.” She unzipped the baggy and fished for the preroll. “You smoke?” A small smile appeared on her lips when you nodded your head ‘yes’.

“ah gotcha, plug for the evening. were you just selling joints?”

“Nope, dime bags too. Everything went pretty quick thankfully.” She patted her pockets looking for something. “Shit I forgot my lighter in the car.” She began to stand up when she noticed you shiver again as a breeze came through. “we could uh, smoke this in my car if you want? I have blankets in there too.” She rubbed the back of her neck, afraid that was too forward after you spoke for literally less than 2 minutes.

but it wasn’t too forward, in fact, you’d rather get as far away from this house as possible and be with this random girl you just met with short brown hair and a goofy grin.

“That sounds good to me, it’s cold as hell out here.” You couldn’t help but smile at one another.

“Sweet, I’m just down the road.” Ellie readjusts her bag and pops the joint behind her ear, watching you down the last bit of your cider.

You finally leave the trash covered lawn and spot a large car in the distance. “What kind of car you drive?” You ask crossing your arms to bite the cold.

Ellie chuckles. “It’s a land cruiser, I don’t know if you know it— they’re not the coolest car.”

“What? Of course I know it! That used to be my dream car next to a 4Runner!” You beam, getting more excited the closer you approach the green SUV.

“Seriously? Can’t believe I met the only girl at this party who knows about these things.” At this point, Ellie’s stomach is doing flips and you were the ring master.

You whistle when you pull up, impressed by the state of the car, despite it being an old model. “You must take good care of it, she looks good. what is it— 95’?”

Ellie blinks at you in aw while unlocking the car— “97’.” Did she just win the lottery?

“Hot.” You smirk while getting into the passenger seat. Even though it was joke, it made Ellie’s legs buckle.

You slide onto the soft leather of the seat. Looking around, you know this girl is a lesbian. The console had been replaced by something more modern, and when Ellie turned the car on, it hummed to life making it softly fade into interchanging rainbow colors. In addition to the gay radio, a tash sultana cd laid in the cup holders, next to a mug with boobs on it.

“God it’s gay in here.” You laughed, bringing a knee up onto the seat.

Ellie rolled her eyes, “well it’s probably because I’m gay.”

Ellie’s phone reconnected to the Bluetooth, and she quickly found a playlist. Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood began to play by she turned the volume.

“Wow really, I couldn’t tell.” You smirked earning a raised eyebrow from the brunette who was already lighting the joint.

She took a few puffs, breathing in, and slowly breathing out before handing it off to you. “takes one to know one…” She spoke, more as a question than a statement.

You took the joint between your fingers, brushing hers in the process. It sent tingles all the way up your arm. You brought it up to your lips to repeat her actions. A few drags in, letting the smoke slowly slip past your lips. “this is true.” You chuckled looking over at her.

Ellie’s eyes followed your every move, the way your fingers delicately held onto the joint, and the way your lips looked wrapped around the filter. There it was again, that thought about how your lips would look really good on-

“Earth to Ellie?” You waved your free hand to signal her back to reality. She locked eyes with you again. Even though it was dark, you could see a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks in the dim red lighting from her radio.

“Oh sorry, thanks.” Another long drag. “So how did you end up at the party?” She ques, taking one more hit before handing it off to you.

The joint was shorter, and you brushed fingers again. You liked how rough the pads of her fingers were. Now it was your time to blush, nearly dropping the joint in the process. You took a moment after your hit to think about your answer.

“Well, a girl invited me, and then I found her making out with someone else.” You blew out the smoke almost releasing your frustrations from earlier. “a guy from the frat, actually.”

Ellie winced at your response. “Damn, that’s rough I’m sorry.” A wave of emotions went through her, anger— because how could someone stand you up? But also relief— knowing that you weren’t going home with anyone gave her hope. “Bummer you didn’t get to make out with anyone, a real shame.” She joked, the weed making the two of you laugh.

“Truly! I mean the whole point of coming out here was to get laid.”

You both chuckled. You felt all ooey gooey from your chest down to your stomach. The effects of the joint, and the bass from the car, made your body melt into the seat cushions. You closed your eyes and hummed into satisfaction.

But Ellie, Ellie was more tense than ever. She watched as one of your legs came up onto the seat to make yourself more comfortable, your knee reaching outward onto the middle console closer to Ellie’s own leg. The other one casually spread out against the door. You looked so damn hot like that, and her thoughts began to drift.

She wondered what it would be like to softly rub the inside of your thigh. To lean over and leave a trail of kisses along your neck and jaw. What kind of noises you’d make if she could have her way with you in that passenger seat.

And when you opened your eyes, they locked with Ellie’s— a dark shade of moss and pine. Your eyes felt heavy, but you couldn’t seem to look away. But Ellie’s eyes began to travel, all over your body. Your face began to heat up, you wanted to know what she was thinking about, but you had a good idea. You could feel the way her eyes undressed you, and it made the feeling in your stomach even hotter, now pooling into your underwear.

You noticed the joint was coming to an end, and you had a thought. You reached over for her hand, which caused her to shake from her perverted thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was holding onto—“

You didn’t let her finish before you brought the short joint, still stuck between her worn fingers, to your soft lips. They were pressed gently against her pointer and middle finger. Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with pure admiration. She licked her lips before bringing her bottom one between her teeth, and letting her thumb rest against your jaw, softly stroking your cheek.

You pulled away a few seconds before gently pulling on her arm again, this time you leaned in as well. Your eyes were still heavy, but you were able to make contact with hers one more time before glancing down to her rosey lips. Your faces only inches apart.

“What are you—“ she began to question before you cupped her left cheek and brought your lips to hers. It was the slowest and softest touch, your lips felt light.

Despite Ellie’s high and sex driven brain, she could register what was happening, you were trying to shotgun. She lifted her other hand to hold the place between your neck and jaw, and gently sucked the smoke when you blew it into her mouth.

You pulled away to try and catch your breath. Your nose brushed hers as you pulled back slightly to watch Ellie exhale, but her hand never left your neck. It all felt like a dream, the way the smoke slipped past her lips as she tilted her head back slightly so it went up and not in your face. The sight of her left another warm wave between your legs. You could still feel her lips on your own, the tingling feeling dancing on your bottom lip. You wanted more. And she did too.

She didn’t hesitate to put the rest of the joint out and discard it in her ashtray before bringing her face back to yours. She brushed her nose against your own letting you know how close she was.

“Still thinking about how I never got the chance to make out with anyone.” You mumbled into her, causing her to chuckle.

“Y’know I think we can change that.” She smiles before drifting her lips to the side of your cheek, pressing a soft kiss, and dragging them to your jaw and neck. You tilt your head to the side to offer more access, softly humming in response.

“And if your whole plan was to come out here and get laid, we could make that happen too.”

You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. She knew what she was doing, saying that in her sexiest voice. Letting her hand slowly slide up even further into your inner thigh, softly squeezing it. So close to where you need her the most.

“Fuck Ellie get in the back, now.”