#my wife is a plane you guys

[romanteasighs]

✈️✨ LATIAS MY BELOVED PLANEWIFE

First time drawing her, but I love her sm <3

[morballs]

I think that people frequently tend to forget that Mackenzie is a little shit in the WM campaign, both through the few player choices and just in normal dialogue and cutscenes

[stabbylambchop]

Hey uh

anyone here on Art Fight this year or-

Cuz I'm on there, same name and everything. I'm on Team Vampires.

You can like, add me or whatever...I mean, if you want...

I haven't interacted with anyone on here or even really drawn in a couple months, sweet pulsating spider-christ ...

[castle-calypse]

yall today my bf stood up to his emotionally abusive father. he laid down boundaries and stuck to them and didn’t lose control of his anger when his dad tried to manipulate and gaslight him. he stayed calm and did it. 🥹🥹🥹

yall i am so proud of this man i could cry (i did actually). setting boundaries with a person like that is SO HARD but HE DID IT!!! HE DID IT GUYS!!!!

i just think a big win like this needs to be celebrated I AM SO PROUD OF HIM!!!!! HE DID IT!!!!!!

[bumpscosity]

you guys there's a new defunctland video and it goes hard

[miss-interpretations]

hey. hey what are we doing.

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[mistyjessart]

The Odyssey Modern AU: Christmas edition

For your consideration: the Odyssey but as a Hallmark Christmas movie where Odysseus travels to New York for work and is trying to get home to Hawaii?? (I needed a long domestic flight shhhhh it was either this or Vancouver to Newfoundland) in time for Christmas dinner with Penelope and Telemachus after missing it for the last 20 years straight

The Trojan War is some really big business venture or something that took literally forever for them to sign but they finally did it!!

Polyphemus keeps them after work threatening to get HR involved because they accidentally ate his lunch that he left in the fridge, Polites and some of his other coworkers get stuck there but Ody and the rest manage to escape the office

Athena is Odysseus' boss (and childhood friend) who told him to get everything done more efficiently so he could leave earlier but noooooo he didn't listen and guess who's cutting it close again

The wind bag: Aeolus (from another department, maybe distribution??) sends them home with snacks that they forget to declare and Poseidon the airport security guard sees them after Eurylochus opens the bag in the waiting area and pulls them into the security room until they miss their flight

Circe owns a local motel and wanted to kick them out because she doesn't trust so many dudes around her employees after past incidents, but her and Athena's mutual friend Hermes gives Odysseus some of her favourite tea as a peace offering and he tells her about his wife and kid and she's just like "fineeeeee okay you're a wife guy, I guess I can find you a room"

She calls them a taxi to the airport the next day and the driver Tiresias just keeps giving them ominous life advice and seems to know like... way too much about them and also they're not entirely sure he actually has his license

Odysseus gets a call from his mom like "where are you we're waiting for you" and he's like "I'm on my way home I promiseeeeeeeeee I'll be there this time"

The sirens are various sales reps at the airport

Scylla (baggage check employee) keeps some of them cuz their bags are too heavy so Ody and the rest head to the gate without them

Eurylochus brings snacks again (thinking Chicharron-style snacks, ones you're not supposed to bring on a plane) and Zeus detains them

The suitors are just the neighbourhours who bully Telemachus like "oooOOOOhhhhh ssuuuUUURrreee your dad is tOOOOtally gonna show up to Christmas this year" and making jokes about his mom

Athena (who did leave early and catch the original flight) scares them away and reassures Telemachus that his dad is on his way (while texting Odysseus "see I told you so")

She finds out Zeus is the one detaining them so she calls her dad like "please can you at least send Odysseus on his way, you literally know him, he's just a dumbass sometimes" so Zeus let's Odysseus go catch his flight but keeps the rest of them in security

Calypso is some lady he's seated next to on the plane who hits on him for the entire ten-hour flight

Poseidon, who got transferred to the other airport, recognizes Odysseus from before and pulls him into security again and Odysseus just rips into him until he lets him go

The neighbours are bullying Telemachus while he's out getting last-minute ingredients for dinner when some dude turns up and tells them off and threatens to get their parents so they all run off

Penelope's just like... "who are you and what have you done with my husband, how are you actually on time"

Insert sweet and sappy Christmas dinner with the entire family until Odysseus' sister goes "wait... where's Eurylochus?"

Eurylochus turns up at the door the next morning like "ODYSSEUS YOU MF I HAD TO CATCH ANOTHER FLIGHT-"

[wonderjanga]

I’m Never Going Back to That Farm

Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…

Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*

Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma

Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”

Supes and Marvel: *share a look*

Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”

Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*

Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”

Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*

Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*

As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.

Supes: “What’s all this?”

Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”

Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*

Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*

Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”

Supes: “Wife?!”

Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*

*silence*

Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”

Pa Kent: “And the kids?”

Supes: “Kids?!”

Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”

Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”

Supes: “He’s a year younger.”

Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”

Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*

So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.

Later during dinner…

Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”

Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*

Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*

Pa Kent: “And when you’re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”

Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”

Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”

Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.

Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.

Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.

Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.

Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.

Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christmas post, yay!

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Although Bradley wasn't usually one for big gestures, he supposed he was when it came to you. Now he wanted the wife and the wedding and the honeymoon and all of it. Preferably sooner than later.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, 18+

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had never been a big gesture kind of guy. He never really saw the point in it. He always figured it was easier to tell how much someone cared about you through their day-to-day interactions instead of the occasional over the top displays. 

He knew Natasha had his back by the way she simply helped him prepare for tonight by taking you out for drinks without asking too many questions. And he hoped she knew that the steady friendship he built with her was strong even though their birthday steak dinners and weekend morning runs weren't flashy. He felt similarly about Maverick, thankful that he knew where he stood with him once again without having to prove it.

But Bradley wanted you to know that he was going to love you forever by the way he treated you when you were alone together, and by the way he couldn't help but occasionally show off his romantic side. He knew you didn't need words written in the sky when he would prefer to pour his heart out to you in letters and emails, but he didn't want to simply propose by handing you his mother's ring either.

That's why he got your students to fold up the paper planes. Because he just couldn't help but both ask you to marry him and show you how much those letters changed his life at the same time.

"Bradley?" Your voice was breathy as he watched your eyes flick to the wall and then back to his face. "Paper planes?"

He smiled. "It's all the letters you and your class sent to me. You know... when you were looking for a Naval aviator to write back and answer a few questions? I guess a few questions turned into a lot more than that. And a simple correspondence with a gorgeous fourth grade teacher soon made me realize that you're the woman of my dreams. My pen pals changed my whole life." He gestured toward the wall. "Your students helped me fold them up yesterday."

"They did?" you whispered as he closed the distance to you before getting down on one knee.

"They did," he confirmed, looking up at your beautiful face as tears filled your eyes. "I love you. And I have something for you, Gorgeous." He swallowed hard. "It was my mom's." He held up the engagement ring that he remembered from his childhood but thought had been long ago buried with Carole. "I want you to have it. Unless you don't like it. It's from 1984, and it's definitely vintage, so I won't be upset if you tell me you'd rather have something more modern. Maverick was holding onto her engagement ring for safekeeping." He knew he was rambling, but now that it was time to say the most important words, his nerves were taking over. "I had no idea until he heard me talking about how desperately I want to marry you."

"Bradley," you gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly with emotion as a tear streaked down your cheek. "Are you serious?"

He was serious. He was in love. He wanted this forever. "Will you marry me?"

You didn't make him wait long to see your beautiful smile and hear your calming voice. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Bradley."

You started to drop down to your knees, and he caught you along the way as your lips met his. He could feel you everywhere. Your arms around his neck were familiar, and so was your soft laughter and your kisses. But your words promising forever were new.

"I love you, Gorgeous," he swore between kisses. "I fucking love you, Baby."

"I love you, too," you whispered, cupping his face in both of your hands and kissing him. 

Bradley realized he was holding the ring tight in his hand and loosened his grip so you could really take a look. "Let me put it on your finger? Make it official?"

You nodded in excitement, and then Bradley had to blindly slide it into place as you kissed him relentlessly.

---------------------------------

Each of the paper planes taped to the wall was familiar to you. After so many months, you could tell which of your students had written the notes based on the handwriting. As you ran your fingers along the letters, you recognized your own handwriting there as well. The flickering candle light shone on the paper planes as well as the ring on your finger.

This was all so romantic. You never dreamed you'd be so thoroughly loved, but here you were with Bradley's lips on the side of your neck as he stood behind you, letting you inspect the message he hung up on the wall.

MARRY ME?

"In an abundance of detail, please explain to me how you managed to get my students to fold all of these up during Career Day without me noticing."

His deep rumble of laughter sent goosebumps along your skin. "You have to know by now who my regular accomplice is."

You spun around in his arms and kissed him as his big hands settled low on your hips. "Natasha can't be trusted," you whispered, gently running your fingers through his hair. "She's too loyal to you. But I know your strategy now."

"That's okay. I don't need her to be sneaky on my behalf anymore. Proposing to you was my main objective."

"Bradley," you whispered, smiling so much your face hurt. You examined the ring as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Part of you was still surprised by how the evening turned out, but he had been promising you from the very start that he was serious about you. "Bradley, you just gave me your mom's ring."

"Yeah," he grunted, running his nose along your cheek and ear. His breath was warm against your skin as he said, "We can pick out something else if you don't like it. The diamond is pretty small, because my parents got married when they were twenty-four. I think that's all my dad could afford, and-"

You silenced him with your lips on his. "It's perfect. Like you. I don't want anything else. Or anyone else."

Those big hands were on your butt now, and his body was snug up against yours as he kissed you so hard, you moaned. The living room smelled like all of the different candles at one time, and the lighting was kind of magical. And you realized you were engaged to the man you started to fall in love with before you even kissed him for the first time.

As soon as you took one small step toward the bedroom, Bradley followed your lead. You could tell he was excited as he scooped you up into his arms, and you kept yourself snug against him as he grew harder for you. Just as you ran your lips along his scars while he carried you through the bedroom doorway, his stomach growled so loudly, you started to laugh.

"You didn't eat dinner," you whispered, kissing him softly, trying to hold back the desire you felt.

"Baby, I have a whole plan," he replied, all smiles as you nipped at his lips until you landed on your back on the bed. "Dinner at Salvatore's is happening, but not until I fuck my fiancée."

You whined softly as he dragged your leggings slowly down, and you arched your back so he could remove your shirt. Then you watched him struggle to get undressed with his erection as you touched yourself. "You're taking me out for an engagement dinner?" you asked, running your fingers between your breasts and down your belly. He stumbled out of his jeans, eyes fixed on your body as you circled your clit with your middle finger.

"Well... maybe not," he grunted. "I should have thought this through a little better. Now I just want to keep you in bed."

The words were taken from your mouth and turned into a moan as he spread your legs apart and kissed you where you were touching yourself. "Bradley." Your fingers went to his hair as he teased and kissed his way up your body, letting you taste yourself on his lips and mustache.

"I love you, Gorgeous," he crooned, guiding the tip of his cock through your wetness until you were clenching with need. When you were ready for him, all you had to do was roll your hips up. When you were ready for more, he filled you up and didn't stop until you came.

--------------------------

"I should probably just try to get us a standing reservation," Bradley murmured, making you laugh as you were led to your table at Salvatore's. The two of you just finished a bottle of the overpriced wine you liked so much at the bar, and now you were looking up at him like you'd rather just go back home for round two of engagement sex instead of dinner. But he knew he wouldn't make it to that point until he ate something.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, grinning as you sat down when the waiter pulled out your chair.

As soon as you and he were both seated, you asked, "How exactly would you like me to look at my future husband?"

Your words left him a little breathless as he reached for your left hand which now displayed the ring that told everyone else you were going to be his wife. He couldn't stop touching you, and you were just as bad as your legs tangled with his beneath the table. "Maybe we should have made sandwiches at home."

Even mentioning food out loud made his stomach growl louder as he inhaled the delicious scent of pasta. "We'll be back home soon," you told him. "In the meantime, while we take a break from our engagement sex marathon, why don't we talk about our summer wedding?"

Bradley nodded as he laced his fingers with yours. "You know, I always wanted to try running a marathon, but I think I like this type even better."

"You can use the sex marathon as part of your training regimen."

The smile on his lips wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Maybe it was the same smile that had been there since the first time he looked at your photo. "Are you really going to agree to a summer wedding?"

"You told my students that's what you wanted," you replied immediately. 

"I owe your kiddos so much. If they didn't think I was cool as hell, I'd have gotten nowhere with their teacher. We should invite them to our wedding."

You laughed as Bradley waved down the waiter and ordered three entrees. He was still holding your hand as he told the guy, "And you may as well just bring some to-go containers out along with the food. We've been engaged for about two hours, so I'm getting a little antsy to get back home again. I'm sure you can understand."

"Congratulations," he murmured as you cradled your forehead in your right hand.

"Bradley," you half groaned and half laughed.

"What?" he replied, downing half of his glass of water. "He took one look at you and knows exactly why I can't wait to go home. Now can we talk more about wedding plans?"

You looked beyond amused and very pleased with yourself as you asked, "Do you really want a summer wedding?"

"Absolutely, Gorgeous Girl," he confirmed. "This year. Please don't make me wait."

You bit your lip for a few seconds before you said, "It's already February. That doesn't give us a lot of time. Unless..." Then the waiter returned with some bread, and you asked him, "Do you have a catering menu?"

He nodded. "I'll bring one out with your food and the containers."

Now you were the one tugging on Bradley's hand. "I have a great idea! What if we don't really have a wedding at all?"

His face fell as his lips parted silently. None of this really mattered before he met you, but now that he was here, he could clearly picture the day in his mind. "Baby, I want us to have a wedding day. A white dress and my uniform and flowers and wedding photos and all that shit."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrenching your hand free so you could drag your chair closer to his at the small table. Your palm was on his cheek, tilting his face so you could kiss him while you stroked his scars. "I didn't mean it like that." You kissed him again. "You give me these butterflies, and I swear I can't handle it," you whispered, running your nose along the side of his. "What if we have a simple wedding where we can invite my students? We can still do the dress and the uniform and as many photos as we want. But I think I know the best spot where we can have it all. And then we could go big on our honeymoon."

The wedding, the fourth graders, the honeymoon, the wife. Now he was smiling again. "Tell me more, Gorgeous. In an abundance of detail."

--------------------------------

If anyone saw the two of you, it would have been comical. It was dark out, and you were holding the bag of food containers and trying to unlock the door while Bradley held onto you.

"I think it's a little bit early to be carrying me into the house like this. Pretty sure that's for after the wedding."

"You can't blame me for being excited."

You pushed the door open, and even in the nearly dark house, you could still see the paper airplanes on the wall spelling out his proposal. "Are we keeping that romantic display where it is?" you asked as Bradley took you to the kitchen.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "For now. But I don't want them to get faded or anything like that. I'll flatten the letters out again eventually and find somewhere to store them."

You gasped as you unpacked the food containers and found something at the bottom of the bag. "They gave us an entire cheesecake!" It said Congratulations written in chocolate, and you bounced around in place as Bradley's arm wrapped around you. "That was so sweet of them."

He chuckled and whispered, "They know what they're doing. They have a loyal customer in my wife who always orders the expensive wine."

His fingertips brushed your neck before you felt his mustache there. "You already know I ordered it by accident the first time," you gasped as he sucked gently on the sensitive spot below your ear. "And I'm not your wife yet."

"Based on our tentative plans, you will be in a few short months," he murmured. "Now why don't we put the food away and go back to bed until Monday morning?"

"Monday morning?" you moaned. "You feeling ambitious?"

Bradley practically threw the food into the refrigerator. "My belly is full, you look hot, we're getting married, and we can take a break for cheesecake in a few hours. So yes, I'm feeling very ambitious, Gorgeous."

Your smile was coy, and your voice was low. "A few hours without a break?"

Bradley kissed your parted lips before tasting your tongue. "I want to get some practice in before our honeymoon. Isn't Paris the city of sex?" he asked with a smirk.

"The city of love!" you said, bursting into laughter as he hauled you toward the bedroom again.

"We'll make it both. I want to practice both."

It was always both when you were with him. He was sexy and sweet, his voice close to your ear as you had each other for the third time today. You already knew that all it took was the diamond on your finger to make you go a little wilder for each other. A deployment that ended with an engagement ring? You never wanted this feeling to stop.

The diamond sparkled on your finger as you tugged at his hair. He was so methodical with you. There was a sweet precision to everything he did which felt like the embodiment of his written letters. His voice was familiar and raw with emotion next to your ear as he filled you in every way. His lips were everywhere, praising you and drawing out your orgasm. Calling you the love of his life. 

"I need this forever, Gorgeous," he panted, fucking you harder. "I need you."

You were clinging to him, kissing his scars as you came. Then the two of you snuggled in bed and discussed your plans for the perfect wedding. 

Although there were more breaks for food and the cheesecake, he did in fact keep you very busy until Monday morning. You went to work exhausted, but you made a quick stop to ask your school administrator if your wedding idea was even feasible. The answer surprised you. Then you got yourself settled in your classroom where eighteen kids soon arrived, and Violet set off a ripple effect as soon as she gasped and asked, "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw give you a wedding ring?"

Jayden and Nia both came running over to your desk to see it. Henry shouted, "She got married! Knew it!" Jackie screamed into her hands about how the magical paper planes worked, and you had to stand and try to calm everyone down.

"I didn't get married! Yet. But Lieutenant Bradshaw asked me to marry him this summer, and I said yes, so I guess the magical paper airplanes did work."

Your classroom erupted into cheers and shouting as you smiled. Thank goodness you went out on a limb and decided to write to a US Naval Aviator. Thank goodness it was Bradley who answered. 

-------------------------------

Wedding and honeymoon up next? Then the epilogue? We're almost there! Anyone think they know where they'll have their wedding? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

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@khaylin27

[thirstywoso]

MILE HIGH - Jessie Fleming x Reader (18+)

A/N: Hey all, I've been struggling with writers block on top of life stuff lately so I've not been writing. I've had this idea for a couple of weeks and finally pumped it out, I don't know if it's any good and I haven't proofread it. I just wanted to give you guys something as I've had a lot of people asking. Word of warning this might be my last post for a long time as I'm just not feeling it lately, I apologise that I have left some fics unfinished and will eventually get them done. Just for now I will be taking an indefinite break.

Synopsis: Jessie and you go on your honeymoon

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: g!p, smut, oral (both), penetrative sex, breeding kink, marking, choking, little dirty talk, gagging, think that's it?

MDNI 18+

Yourself and Jessie had taken many flights before, her for games wether with club or National team. Yourself following her around the country and the world.

What was rare though was for you and your wife to be taking the same flight somewhere, god it felt so good saying that, wife. You'd just eloped and now here you were sat next to her on the airplane taxiing down the runway on your way to your honeymoon.

You'd managed to strike it lucky with the flight as the aisle seat next to yourself and Jessie wasn't taken so after some time in the air you decided to lay down across the seats covering yourself with a blanket as the cabin lights dipped.

You wanted to get some sleep as you'd already been up for hours, however that being said there was another desire burning more than your need to sleep.

Your head lain on Jessie's lap as she began to stroke your hair, you stroking her thigh.

You felt Jessie squirm in her seat, palming at her sweats before clenching her fists. Tactically shifting her hips away from where your head lay, a grin fell over your face where Jessie hadn't concealed her burgeoning hard on as well as she had thought.

Sneaking your hand up under your head you gently stoked higher up her thigh letting out a small giggle when you cupped her over her semi. A muffled growl coming from Jessie as she bit down on her lip eyes darting across the cabin to see if anyone could see.

Looking up at her your eyes meet and she shoots you a look of warning as you continue your ministrations, putting a hand over yours stilling it she whispers down to you.

"Don't start something you can't finish"

"Who says I can't finish" you smile up at her

Your hand snaking under her sweats and briefs, grabbing onto her now hardened length, sliding your hand up and down with ease, lubed by the precum dripping from the head of your wife's cock.

The blanket concealing your actions, Jessie's reaction however would arouse suspicion if she didn't ground herself. Looking up at the roof of the plane and breathing deeply through her nose her hands found the back of your hair pulling gently and kneading trying to keep her composure.

Pulling your hand back you lick your palm before spitting in your hand and gripping a struggling Jessie yet again. Freeing her from her confines as she shuffles her clothing down her thighs and recovers herself with the blanket.

You look across to the aisle next to you seeing your neighbours asleep. With a sudden burst of bravery you lay slow sensual kisses along her shaft, pressing longer when you reach her tip. Your warm pink tongue flicking out along her slit tasting her excitement causing the Canadians eyes to roll into the back of her head.

Hollowing your cheeks you take her into your mouth swirling your tongue around her as she grits her teeth trying to say silent. Her hand stroking along your arm and around your front.

You close your eyes relishing in her taste, a smirk appearing on your cock filled mouth satisfied with your wife's crumbling composure.

Jessie's hand snakes across your stomach and under the blanket making its way under your waste band, groaning when she feels your arousal coating her finger tips.

Your eyes similarly to hers roll back as she bottoms out in the warmth of you throat, a small gag from resistance coming from you has her shuddering. Your panties almost destroyed from where you dripped and ached for her.

Removing you from where she needed you most you gave her a questioning look, nodding her head you realises she's signalling you to the restroom.

Silently you get up and signal for Jessie to play it cool and wait a minute before following, you notice how most people on the flight are asleep and find your way into the surprisingly decent size room.

Jessie manages to shuffle her clothes back on, tucking her aching cock into her waistband in a way to conceal herself.

Running her hands along her thighs, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath counting down from thirty before releasing the breath. Opening her eyes she gets up and heads towards the bathroom, after what felt like a lifetime your wife was finally behind you in the cubicle.

"Hey pretty girl" she says placing a kiss on your shoulder and making eye contact with you in the mirror.

Kissing up your neck and nibbling at your ear as she cups your throat her other hand on your waist pulling you back into her.

"You going to be a good girl for me?"

You groan closing your eyes and rolling your hips back

"Huh princess? I said are you going to be a good girl? Use your words, speak up"

"Fuck... yes Jessie" you breath out biting your lower lip

"Take these off" she signals at the clothing on your bottom half, before you can even reach to do as you're told she tugs them down exposing your bare ass before she does the same.

Her cock jutting up towards you as she helps you place your clothes on a hook.

Grabbing a condom from her pocket before adding her pants to the pile, she tears it open with her teeth and spits the wrapper to one side.

She strokes her length a few more times before sliding the condom on with ease, she grins at you in the reflection before running her tip through your dripping folds.

"So big for me" you groan as you sway your hips pushing back to tease her, unable to fathom how you're going to fit her thick cock inside you from this position.

Shuffling your feet wider so that your pretty hole was on display for her, Jessie groaned and bit her lip as she took in the view.

As she continued to rut through your folds she once again made eye contact with you in the mirror as her tip threatened to stretch your entrance, revelling in the way you wrapped around her.

Your eyes slamming closed at the feeling of her forcing you open, her cock slowly pushing through your warm canal engulfing your new wife in a pillowy bliss.

You'd taken her before, so it wasn't entirely new but from this angle it was a slight struggle that you gritted your way through.

One again you bite your lip to hold in your moan as she bottoms out holding your arms behind your back and pushing your head again the mirror so you stay in the position she wants you in.

You close your eyes at the cool sensation of the glass against your cheek and a moan spills out of your lips. It's at that moment Jessie's eyes come across your panties hanging on the hook.

Her eyes widen as an idea flashes through her mind, grabbing them she wraps them around her hand.

"Open" she demands

Opening your eyes you look at her confused until she grabs your jaw tilting it toward her, squeezing harshly on your cheeks until your mouth opens and she shoves your soaked panties into your mouth.

Pushing your jaw closed she kisses your shoulder before gently grazing it with her teeth, trailing her way to your neck where she bit down harshly sure to leave her mark.

A moan barely makes its way past the makeshift gag as you bite down on the fabric quietening yourself. Unable to tell Jessie verbally how good you feel you instead throw your head back and reach around to claw at her forearms.

"You like that baby?" She says smugly watching as she flexes her biceps and abs in the mirror at an attempt to pound you harder.

"Such a good girl for me" she smiles as you nod your answer to her question.

Slumping forward she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into her with more fervour her hips slamming into yours filling the small room with the sound of your wet pussy dripping for her.

Her hands graze over your breasts slipping their way under your loose fitting shirt and into your bra, her finger tips circle your hardening nipples before she gently tugs and pinches on them.

The sensations of her entering you and playing with your chest sets your skin on fire, her lips coming back your neck as she kisses and soothes your skin that she had just harshly bitten, a bruise already threatening to break through.

You throw your hips back harder as she snaps up into you, cupping your breasts and squeezing hard using them as leverage to fill you even deeper.

That's when you hear it a faint snapping noise, only just audible. Thinking nothing of it you urge the footballer to keep going, her athletic thighs and calves tensing as she ruts up into you.

"Keep going, I'm close" you groan out as Jessie pulls the panties from your mouth, she continued to snap up into you as your orgasm approached.

"Me too sweetie, I'm gonna fill you up so good. I want you to have my babies" she growls in your ear

"Fuck Jess, put a baby in me"

"You'd look so good and so full" she cries out before the last few thrusts.

"Show everyone I'm yours"

You shudder as you cum hard on her cock as she begins to shoot rope after rope of her seed inside the condom... or so you both thought.

After panting for a few moments regaining your composure and Jessie hers, you wife slid her self out to see the remnants of a snapped condom and her cum dripping out of you.

"Shit"

"What? What's wrong?" You say in a haze

"Condom split" she mutters still staring at your breeded hole

"Oh"

"Well I wasn't joking, I really do what your babies Jess"

"You do?"

"I do" you confirm

"Fuck" she whispers starting to get stiff again "Right now?"

"I know we haven't talked about it much but I'd love to start a family with you"

"So would I" she says full of sincerity

Eying her up in the reflection you feel yourself throbbing once again.

"Might as well put that to use" you say reaching around and stroking her back to full attention

"Try again shall we" a slight lilt in your voice

"Don't have to ask me twice" she says turning you around throwing you against the door, a slight jump from you as you wrap your legs around her waist, her thick cock back inside you once again.

One arm wrapped around your back another braced against the wall as you clutched her shoulder, your other hand holding onto the top of the door frame.

Bouncing up and down on her cock as she slammed upwards matching your thrusts, burying your head in the crook of her neck you whisper some filthy things in her ear that have her crying out in pleasure.

"Fill me up with your babies Jess"

"Make me such a good mommy"

"Only you can stretch me this good" you emphasise with a moan and a bite to her ear lobe

Grabbing your hips she pistons into you faster and harder your nails scratching down your back.

Hissing in pleasure and pain her forehead beading with sweat as she continues to bottom out in you, pulling back leaving you empty before stretching you out again.

The feeling was so intense that you could hardly hold yourself up and clung onto Jessie as she fucked you into oblivion.

"Cum inside me please" you wail out as white heat blinds you, Jessie whimpering as she fills you with yet another load. Holding herself there hoping her seed will take.

When she pulls out you feel yourself gush all over your thighs, taking your fingers you dip them into your core before cleaning your sodden digits off in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them as Jessie looks you in the eye.

Dropping to her knees she looks up at you with pleading eyes

She grabs your leg throwing your thigh over her shoulder before kissing her way up to your molten core.

Dipping her tongue inside tasting your mixed arousal, her eyes fluttering back at your heady scent.

She couldn't help but suckle on your throbbing clit and bring your folds into her mouth lapping at you, already over sensitive you approached your third orgasm quickly and with a small whimper and shuddering legs you came once again.

Jessie caught you and stood up kissing you gently

"Hopefully that will help" she smirks before helping you get dressed again.

You gave yourselves a once over before Jessie whispered in your ear "go lay down so my load gets you knocked up" she kisses your temple before you both exit the cubicle.

An airplane of eyes on you both as yours found the floor, you found your way back to your seats and got comfortable, hiding you face under the blanket away from all the judgemental stares you were getting.

Apparently you weren't as quiet as you'd both thought...

[janovavalen]

✧in her comments || walker scobell x fem!reader

—small warning: the faces that are shows as ‘y/n’ are just for the aesthetic…—

in her comments p.2

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries, yourmom others

yourinstagram finally in vancouver guys OMGG?🧍🏽‍♀️

view all comments

dior.n.goodjohn good now hurry up and get here im bored

→ yourinstagram omg hello? can i get a hi?

user22 OMG WAIT IS Y/N FILMING IN PERCY JACKSON!?🤨🤨🤨

→ user37 WAIT MAYBE??

user11 guys don’t be quick to assume she could just be seeing her friends who r filming percy jackson…

_xochitl.gomez NOOO COME BACK I MISS YOU ALREADY😭😭😭

→ yourinstagram I MISS YOU TOO BABY I WAS LITERALLY GONNA CRY ON THE PLANE

→ user77 xochitl and y/n are so adorable 😭

jennaortega miss you already, have fun!

→ user44 dude jenna and y/n being friends is insane when did that even happen

yourinstagram

liked by jennaortega, dior.n.goodjohn, yourmom, and others

yourinstagram at the hotel!

view all comments

user222 y/n listening to sade is honestly a vibe, she’s literally wife material

→ yourinstagram yall flatter me sm🤭

user11 the messy get ready aesthetic is so real😭

→ yourinstagram i really be making messes like they get on the floor too

dior.n.goodjohn girl ik ur not making a mess in that hotel room already…

→ yourinstagram …i’m getting ready.

yourmom make sure you clean that up, AND BE SAFE!

→ yourinstagram i will‼️

user0 y/n’s mom caring for her over insta comments is adorable omg I WISH MY MOM DID THIS

user33 literally jealous☹️

dior.n.goodjohn

liked by yourinstagram, iamcharliebushnell, leahavajeffries and others

view all comments

iamcharliebushnell those are my shoes?🦼

→ dior.n.goodjohn you can share

→ yourinstagram sharing is caring🤲🏽

→ iamcharliebushnell OHH so when i asked for your food you threw paper at me..riiiight😒

user77 DID Y/N, CHARLIE AND DIOR JUST COMMENT ALL TOGETHER??

user2 nah guys i think y/n is filming in percy jackson…idc what yall say this is official

user66 nah bc ik something was going on when y/n posted she was flying to vancouver 😗🤲🏽

used82 THIS is insane and i’m so here for it all

leahavajeffries so beautifullll

→ dior.n.goodjohn AWH TYY<3

user01 throwing paper is so real when it comes to food‼️

yourinstagram

liked by walker.scobell, dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries and others

yourinstagram these yellow pants are probably my fav by far, thanks walker for letting me hold your dog<3

view all comments

walker.scobell your welcome😭

user81 IF Y/N IS HOLDING WALKERS DOG AND WALKER JUST LIKED THE POST THEY DEFINITELY MET!!!

user11 i can practically smell the shipping edits through my phone right now

user68 guysss let two opposite genders be just friends they don’t have to be dating 😭

jennaortega is thought you said you’ll never come in a three mile radius of a chihuahua

→ yourinstagram just spill all my secrets it’s okay

dior.n.goodjohn my beautiful girll 💛

→ yourinstagram KISSES KISSES KISSES!

user19 their friendship is something i live for

iamcharliebushnell you wanted my sandwich so bad you took a pic

→ yourinstagram i meannnn…you can make one for me if you want i don’t mind at all🤲🏽🤭

walker.scobell

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahavajeffries, aryansimhadri, yourinstagram and others

walker.scobell y/n recommended i wear blue striped shirts to embody percy what do you guys think?

view all comments

yourinstagram if you guys disagree with the blue shirts BURN IN HELL—IM JOKING OMG IM JOKING

→ walker.scobell Y/N YOU CANT SAY THAT ON HERE YOUR GONNA GET US IN TROUBLE

→ yourinstagram IM SORRY IM SORRY OMGGG😭😭😭

user22 y/n forgetting she’s like thirty million famous on insta and on nonstop movies is so comforting

user110 literally living for the walker and y/n duo hello?

user60 love them sm, LOVE THE BLUE SHIRT WLAKER KEEP IT ON KEEP IT ON

leahavajeffries guys walker listens to y/n regardless

→ walker.scobell leah it’s okay…you don’t have to act like annabeth anymore we’re off set

→ leahavajeffries this is me on a daily 😭!?

→aryansimhardi it’s true

→ yourinstagram literally rolling in the deep

→ argansimhardi STOP

user45 THEY KNOW GUYS THEY KNOW

user71 THATS INSANE Y/N OMGGGG😭😭

user51 GTFO OF HEREEEE AHAHAHAH

leahavajeffries

liked by yourinstagram, walker.scobell, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansamhardi and others

leahavajeffries y/n let me try her ice cream it was mid

view all comments

yourinstagram that’ll be the last time you take anything from me…food wise

→ leahavajeffries IM SORRY BUT WHAT? U ADDED TWO SEPARATE THINGS ON TOP OF ONE ANOTHER LIKE NO

→ yourinstagram last time.

walker.scobell i thought it was good?

→ yourinstagram thank you walker<3

→ iamcharliebushnell simp bro..

user17 THEY’RE SO CUTE?

user210 walker backing up that y/n’s ice cream combination to say it’s good was so cute to me idk why😭?!

dior.n.goodjohn see? i’m not the only one saying you guys are cute?!

→ walker.scobell i mean🤷🏼

→ user710 DIOR ALREADY SHIPS, ITS OFFICIAL AND WALKER NOT DENYING IS OMGGGGGGG

user619 WALKER DIDN’T DENY IT GUYS I REPORT HE DIDN’T DENY IT

user373 EVERY ONE STAY CALM

jennaortega y/n you’ve got some explaining to do🤨

→ yourinstagram WHAT?😭😭😭

yourinstagram

liked by walker.scobell, jennaortega, leahavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell , yourmom and others

yourinstagram walker wanted to be posted soo @ walker.scobell are you happy now? also thanks for dinner<3

view all comments

walker.scobell so happy 🤭

→ yourinstagram bro😭😭

dior.n.goodjohn THATS WHY YOU DITCHED ME AT THE HOTEL? u went to dinner with walker instead of me☹️!?

→ yourinstagram IM SORRY I THOUGHT YOU KNEW? — conrad fisher

→ dior.n.goodjohn not the time to be REFERENCING TSITP

iamcharliebushnell the ship is almost sailing guys 🏂

leahavajeffries they’re literally always taking pics of each other

mckennagraceful WHATTTTT

aryansimhadri guys literally help they are with me rn and they’re laughing so loud at a cat vid.

_xochitl.gomez Y/N AND WALKER WHAT? BRO BRO BRO BRO

user623 WHAT DID WE SAYYYY WHAT DID WE SAYYYYYY WERE RIGHT WE WERE RIGHTTT

user80 walker reminds me of a clingy pet the way he’s slapping y/n’s face like that😭

user100 HELP Y/N SHES BEING SLAPPED BY WALKER😭😭😭

user103 THEYRE SO CUTE I KNEW IT

user71 MAKING EDITS RN

dior.n.goodjohn

liked by walker.scobell, yourinstagram, leahavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell and others

dior.n.goodjohn i cannot express how much i love taking 05’s of everyone

view all comments

yourinstagram i’m glad u didn’t post the one of me sleeping bro.

→ dior.n.goodjohn never do u dirt like that<3

iamcharliebushnell she never can take mine bc i slap her phone she knows better — luke c.

→ dior.n.goodjohn CORNY AHHHHH

→ yourinstagram charlie that wasn’t it im sorry to have to inform you that your plate has been stolen.

walker.scobell bro send the one of y/n 🤲🏻

user148 WALKER WANTING Y/N’S PICS AWH

User189 yall get handed a snack and turn it into a meal😭

user1047 lowkey living for walker and y/n and the percy jackson family<3

_xochitl.gomez they’re all too cute im ngl

→yourinstagram YOUR CUTER

yourinstagram

liked by walker.scobell, leahavajeffries, yourmom, iamcharliebushnell and others

yourinstagram literally filming and i fell in dirt. walker gave me his jacket tho to it’s okay

view all comments

dior.n.goodjohn she fell so hard that her shoe half broke guys…

→ yourinstagram ALRIGHT ALRIGHT CALM DOWN

walker.scobell it’s okay y/n we can get more shoes tmr

→yourinstagram u better wake up too

user391 them going to the mall where i live while im at school is killing me

user616 they’re too cute, (shipname) for life

iamcharliebushnell I WANA GO?

→ aryansimhadri ME TOO!?!?

→ leahavajeffries SAME HERE

→ walker.scobell 🧍🏼…

user637 them tagging along when walker wanted to be alone with y/n is hilarious

yourinstagram

liked by walker.scobell, aryansimhadri, leahavajeffries and others

yourinstagram they took my phone SHOUT OUT TO ARYAN’S DAD BRUH😭

view all comments

leahavajeffries i wish i was there omg 😭

→ yourinstagram I WISH YOU WERE HERE TOO!

aryansimhadri my dad scared me so bad

walker.scobell who are these handsome men in your phone!?

user637 they’re too cute ALL OF THEM

user111 aryan turning around so fast is literally me

user7191 jealous ashhhh

[zepskies]

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family. 

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked. 

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror. 

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started. 

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)

🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:

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[muzaktomyears]

John Lennon and Yoko Ono: his affairs, binges and diet pills

For years the radio host Elliot Mintz was the only person the former Beatle and his wife trusted. Now, he has written a book about his intense relationship with the couple — including what really happened during Lennon’s infamous ‘Lost Weekend’

John Lennon, Yoko Ono and Elliot Mintz outside the Mampei Hotel in Karuizawa, Japan, 1977. Right: Lennon and Ono in 1980

I am holding a pair of glasses. They are antique, made of steel wire and perfectly round. The trademarked name is the Panto 45. This is the 26th pair of John’s glasses I’ve examined on this snowy night in February 1981. It’s been about two months since he was gunned down in New York outside the Dakota, the gothic edifice where he and Yoko Ono had been living since 1973.

I’ve been tasked with the responsibility of inventorying his personal effects so that Yoko, and posterity, would know precisely what he had left behind. I did not want this task. For one thing, I live 2,500 miles from the Dakota, in Los Angeles, where I host a late-night radio interview show. But Yoko asked me to do it, and I have rarely been able to say no to Yoko, let alone John.

I found their idealism infectious and inspiring. Still, as I got to know John and Yoko as flesh-and-blood friends, I began to see their flawed human sides as well.

The trio at a restaurant in Kyoto, 1977

Yoko, for one, was even more airy and ethereal in private than she was in the media. She could be a fountain of aphorisms, dispensing endless nuggets of Zen-like philosophy. Her haiku-esque homilies on manifesting one’s desires or the wisdom of the nonrational mind could be a bit much for some people.

There were moments when even I was a bit baffled by it all. Except then she would say or do something that would absolutely convince me that she was connected to some higher plane.

John, meanwhile, was every bit as charming, funny and intelligent as he came across in public. But I gradually discovered he was far from perfect. For starters, for a guy who aspired to be a world-shaking peacemaker — a thought leader on a par with Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr and Nelson Mandela — he was surprisingly uninformed about historic figures like, well, Gandhi, King and Mandela.

He also had some Luddite-like notions about science, particularly medicine, extending well beyond his annoyance at “daddy doctors” for not letting him perform his own weight-loss injections. Even though John had smoked, ingested or snorted just about every illegal recreational drug he could get his hands on, he was weirdly suspicious of the ones that were properly prescribed and proven efficacious.

Lennon and Ono on The Dick Cavett Show, 1971

John and Yoko could be incredibly sensitive, honest, provocative, caring, creative, generous and wise. They could also be self-centred, desperate, vain, petty and annoying. In John’s case, also shockingly cruel — even to Yoko.

An example…

Early one morning in November 1972, the red ceiling light that would flash whenever my hotline to John and Yoko rang started blinking. I picked up.

“Ellie, I f***ed up,” were the first words out of John’s mouth.

“Why?” I groggily asked. “What did you do?”

“We were at this party last night,” he said, “and I got loaded. And there was a girl…”

I sat up in bed.

The party was at Jerry Rubin’s Greenwich Village apartment. A small crowd of well-connected peaceniks had gathered to watch the presidential election returns on television. As it became clear that Richard Nixon would win re-election by a landslide, the mood grew bleaker and the crowd began drinking more heavily.

Alcohol was not John’s friend and on this occasion, John’s evil inner gremlins truly outdid themselves.

I got some of the specifics from a hungover John during his morning-after call. The upshot was that John had indeed hit it off with some girl at the party and had slipped into a bedroom with her, where they proceeded to have such loud, raucous sex that everyone sitting around the TV in Rubin’s living room — including Yoko — could clearly hear them going at it.

Lennon and Mintz in 1972

At one point, a well-meaning guest put a record on the turntable — Bob Dylan’s 11-minute ballad Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands — at high volume. Yoko sat on the sofa in stunned, mortified silence.

Whatever they said to each other later, I suspect the conversation was not a pleasant one.

“I slept on the sofa,” John told me, sounding defeated and embarrassed — although, frankly, not quite as contrite as I thought his situation warranted. “Things like that happen,” he said, way too matter-of-factly for my taste. “A bloke cheats on his wife… If I weren’t famous, nobody would care.”

Yoko, unsurprisingly, felt differently.

“Are you OK?” I gently asked her when I phoned to check in on her a few hours later.

“There is no answer to that question,” she said shakily.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“I can forgive him,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened. I don’t know if it will ever be the same.”

After a few weeks of cooling down, though — during which Yoko wrote and recorded Death of Samantha, her bluesy ode to burying one’s pain for the sake of outward appearances — the crisis seemed to abate. John and Yoko chose to roll the cosmic dice with a spectacular gesture of faith and hope in the staying power of their love. They bought an apartment in the Dakota.

“It’s apartment No 72,” Yoko announced when she called to tell me about the purchase. “Do you see the significance?”

Lennon’s 38th birthday party, 1978

When you add seven and two, you get nine, Yoko explained, which was a hugely significant numeral to the Lennons, a magic integer that seemed to mysteriously recur throughout John’s life. Yoko would rattle off the number’s many repeated appearances: John was born on October 9. She was born on February 18 (1 plus 8). Paul McCartney’s last name has nine letters…

I was somewhat mystified as to why they chose this particular neighbourhood. “Aren’t you worried it’ll be too stuffy for you?” I asked John. “Will the people who live there even know who you are?”

“I don’t want them to know who we are,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t want to know who they are. We just want to be left alone.”

The Dakota struck me as one of the most eerily beautiful — and oddly daunting — structures in all of New York. John and Yoko greeted me in the vaulted vestibule, eager to begin our tour, which started on the ground floor with the new headquarters for Studio One, the business entity behind John and Yoko’s creative enterprises. Tellingly, John did not have an office in Studio One; Yoko did.

The main attraction was on the seventh floor. It was nearly 5,000sq ft, with massive windows offering eye-popping views of Central Park. Virtually everything in its expansive living room, from the plush carpeting to the grand Steinway piano, was as white as Japanese snowbells.

Lennon, Ono and Mintz at a Shinto temple in Kyoto. The custom was to hang your horoscope on a line

There was only one highly conspicuous work of art in the White Room: a Plexiglass case on a white pedestal, in which was a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus. John and Yoko had scored the very last mummy allowed out of Egypt before the Egyptian government put a ban on exporting their national antiquities.

“You should x-ray it and see what’s inside,” I suggested. “There might be something of great value, like precious jewels.”

“I don’t care what’s inside,” Yoko responded. “The great value is the magic of the mummy itself.”

Another thing I clearly remember about that long afternoon at the Dakota was how enthusiastic both John and Yoko seemed about the life they were building together in this new nest. John giddily described the “entertainment centre” he wanted to construct in a nook off the kitchen. Yoko, ever the artist, chattered about the endless design ideas she had. It was all too easy to forget about the pain and stress they’d been dealing with. I managed to convince myself that the worst was over for John and Yoko. I was wrong.

There are those who believe Yoko not only approved of the affair but arranged it. That she planted May Pang in the seat next to John on that American Airlines flight from New York to Los Angeles knowing full well what was likely to happen. That their comely 23-year-old assistant would sooner or later end up sleeping with her husband.

It’s possible, I suppose. It could be she saw some strategic long-term advantage in setting up the affair; by handpicking John’s mistress, she might have felt she could exert some dominion over his extramarital wanderings. Perhaps, thanks to her mystical advisers, she really did see that John was heading for a free fall and was endeavouring to soften his inevitable crash.

If any of that is true, though, Yoko never breathed a word of it to me. All she said in October 1973 was that she was sending John and an assistant to LA. Could I please meet them at the airport?

With his assistant and lover, May Pang, 1974

I was by then aware that their marriage was in deep trouble. Despite their best efforts to mend the relationship, the red light on my bedroom ceiling had been blinking even more feverishly than usual leading up to what would later be known as John’s “Lost Weekend”, the 18 months he spent in exile from his wife in New York.

Yoko’s demeanour back then, as always, was not demonstrably emotional but it was clear from our phone conversations that she was in pain. John’s calls were every bit as depressing.

“Has Mother been talking to you about us?” he asked during one early morning chat.

“Yoko talks to me about everything,” I answered vaguely.

“The other day I shaved and got dressed up and told her I wanted to take her to her favourite restaurant and she turned me down,” he lamented. “She said she didn’t have time. Me own f***ing wife said that to me!”

Yoko has always been a methodical person, and my guess is that she precisely and carefully orchestrated John’s eviction from the Dakota. John might not have even realised what was happening to him. He certainly didn’t seem like a man who’d been kicked out of his home when I met him and May Pang at LA airport.

“You look trim, Ellie,” he said with a big grin when I greeted them. “Have you been taking those diet pills again?”

They had very little luggage, suggesting that neither of them was expecting a long stay. My instructions from Yoko were to drive them to music manager Lou Adler’s house in Bel Air, a mini-mansion up on Stone Canyon Road.

“I need some money,” John said as we settled into my weary old Jaguar. “Mother said these could be used for money,” John continued, shoving a fistful of traveller’s cheques in my hand.

The couple outside the Dakota building in New York, 1980. They bought an apartment there in 1973

John was functionally a child when it came to taking care of himself. But then, that was what May was for. Whatever other intentions Yoko may or may not have had for the assistant, her primary job was to make sure John was properly fed and cared for, that all his basic needs — or at least most of them — were satisfied.

John and I spent a lot of time together over the next several weeks. He was also expanding his friendship circle in LA, hanging out with people like Harry Nilsson, the brilliant but notoriously hell-raising singer-songwriter. But after three or four months, much of his initial enthusiasm had boiled off and his mood was starting to curdle. He was missing Yoko: he began asking me when I thought she’d be ready for him to come home. He started spending more and more time with Nilsson, drinking at the Troubadour till all hours. After John famously got thrown out for drunkenly heckling the Smothers Brothers, the late-night shenanigans moved to the Rainbow Bar & Grill on Sunset. That’s where John and Harry and a collection of others — including my old pals Micky Dolenz and Alice Cooper — formed an infamous drinking club known as the Hollywood Vampires.

It would be difficult to exaggerate the level of unbridled indulgences that took place in the Rainbow’s VIP room, a small alcove atop some stairs overlooking the bar. The amount of alcohol imbibed was staggering, to say the least, and there were also small bags of cocaine discreetly passed into the room. Nilsson, a great big bear of a man, could pound down a dozen or so brandy alexanders — a potent mix of brandy and cream, his cocktail of choice, which John soon adopted as his own — in a single sitting.

Not being a celebrity, I was never invited to become a member of the Hollywood Vampires, but I was a welcome visitor and spent many a late night on the edges of their wild, sometimes harrowing saturnalias.

Lennon with his Hollywood Vampires drinking partners, from left, Harry Nilsson, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz, November 1973

There was always a crowd of attractive young women at the bottom of the steps leading to the Vampires’ VIP lair. Frankly, though, by the time the boys descended, usually at closing time, most of them were too wasted to take advantage of the opportunity. I lost count of the number of times I all but carried John down those stairs and poured him into whatever car service I had called to the bar’s car park.

For the most part, I kept my promise to Yoko: I kept John safe. But one night, I realised things were starting to spiral out of my control. Normally, John didn’t put up much of a fight when I helped him down the stairs at the Rainbow Bar but on this occasion, he resisted. He didn’t want to go home.

He pushed away and dived straight into the crowd. It was my worst nightmare: a drunken star lost inside a drunken mob.

Finally, I spotted John with Nilsson at the edge of the car park, the two of them climbing into the back of a black limousine. A moment later, it pulled away into the night, going I had no idea where.

John, I realised with a sinking feeling in my gut, was slipping away.

I was about to walk into the nadir of the Lost Weekend, John’s rock bottom. The call came not on the hotline but my regular house phone, and the voice on the other end identified himself as a security officer working for Phil Spector. John was in trouble: could I please hurry over to Adler’s house and help “calm him down”.

What I saw when I stepped into Adler’s living room some 20 minutes later looked like a scene out of The Exorcist. Drunk and wild-eyed, John was strapped to a high-backed chair, his arms and legs restrained with ropes, which he was struggling against with all his might as he shouted obscenities at his captors, a pair of beefy-armed bodyguards who stood in awkward silence nearby. The place was a shambles. John had torn some of Adler’s framed gold records off the walls and smashed them to pieces. Bits of broken wood and shattered Plexiglass littered the floor.

The couple in Selfridges in London where Ono was signing copies of her book Grapefruit, July 1971

Apparently, the meltdown had started earlier that evening at the studio, where John and Phil had nearly come to blows. What precisely they were arguing about, nobody seemed to remember. But the session ended early with Phil’s guards restraining John and shuttling him to Adler’s house, where John slipped away from them long enough to pick up some sort of walking stick or cane, which he swung wildly around the living room until the guards were able to subdue him.

I slowly stepped up to John, who had stopped shouting. His head hung low on his shoulders, his chest heaving furiously. After a long beat, he slowly lifted his eyes to me. He looked possessed.

“Get these ropes off me!” he erupted. “Get them off me, you…”

And then John spat out an epithet so hurtful and offensive, I can’t bring myself to repeat it.

I looked straight into his eyes, barely containing my disgust and disappointment. He looked back into mine. And that exchange of glances seemed to reach some shred of humanity buried deep in John’s alcohol-addled brain. Suddenly he became very, very quiet.

After a moment or two, I turned to the guards. “I think you can take those ropes off him,” I said. “I think he’s done.”

John stood up, rubbed his wrists and, without another word, slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom, where he must have collapsed on the mattress and passed out.

The next day, as I was getting ready to leave for work, the hotline started flashing.

“Ellie?” John said. “I’m sorry for what I said. But if you think about it, if that’s the worst thing I could say about you, you couldn’t be all that bad, right?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said.

“Well, welcome to the real world, Mother Virgin Mary. I’m me. I have a big mouth and express meself the way I feel when I feel it. I don’t hide behind some microphone. I sing into it or speak into it when it suits me. I’m not always the Imagine guy or the Jealous Guy or the Walrus. So I said I’m sorry to you. That’s all I can do.

Lennon and Ono in 1972

“Do you want to have dinner?”

“No,” I answered. “I think I’m going to take the night off.”

For the first time I can remember, I was the one who hung up the phone.

Obviously, our friendship took a hit after the incident at Adler’s house; how could it not? For the next several months, John and I barely spent time together — at least, not in person. We would talk almost every day on the phone, as we always had, and eventually our rapport began to feel as easy and familiar as ever. But I no longer joined him for evenings at the Troubadour or the Rainbow.

John, meanwhile, had shifted from the mayhem of the Spector sessions to the slightly lesser bedlam of producing a record for his pal Harry Nilsson. The most notable thing about the Pussy Cats sessions was who else was in the room. Ringo Starr sat in on drums. And although it never made it onto Nilsson’s album, another ex-Beatle unexpectedly turned up and even sang with John, the first time the two of them had performed together since the Beatles split.

I wasn’t present but later heard that Paul McCartney and his wife, Linda, had popped in without warning, bringing Stevie Wonder with them. According to those who were there, John and Paul seemed to pick up their friendship as if they were teenagers again, but when John told me about it later, he was kind of dismissive about it, saying, “They were all just looking at us, thinking that something big was going to happen. To me, it was just playing with Paul.”

Lennon with Harry Nilsson, left, outside the Troubadour club in West Hollywood, having just been ejected for heckling a performance by the Smothers Brothers, March 12, 1974

What John didn’t know, though, was that, according to Yoko, Paul had an ulterior motive for the visit. A few days earlier, she had called me to explain the machinations behind the visit.

Yoko told me she spoke with Paul, who offered to speak with John. “I thought it was very kind,” she said. “I was very appreciative. But I made it very clear to Paul that it wasn’t something I was asking him to do. It would have to be Paul’s idea, not mine.”

To me, there was never any question that John desperately wanted to get back with Yoko. Yes, he had feelings for May, yet at some point during virtually every phone call I had with him, John would sooner or later beseech me to talk to Yoko on his behalf. “Tell Mother I’m ready to come home, Ellie. Tell her I’m a changed man.”

“I don’t think she wants to hear it from me,” I would say. “She wants you to show it to her.”

Paul, I later heard, gave John similar advice. Sometime after popping into the studio in Burbank, he sat down with John and laid out, step by step, what he would need to do to win Yoko back.

It’s impossible to say if Paul’s presentation was what did it, or if John experienced some other epiphany around that time, but over the ensuing months he did indeed begin to clean up his act. In the summer of 1974, he started working on his next album, Walls and Bridges, regularly flying to New York for rehearsals and recordings at the Record Plant on West 44th Street. By all accounts, those sessions were entirely professional, with John showing up 100 per cent sober every day.

At the Grammy Awards in New York, March 1, 1975

Then, as work on the album neared completion, John made a fateful decision: he decided not to wait any longer for Yoko’s invitation to return to New York. Instead, towards the end of the summer, he and May rented an apartment of their own on the Upper East Side. It was a small but comfortable place that had a wraparound balcony with spectacular views of the East River.

When I flew to New York to tape some interviews, I took the opportunity to pay them a visit — my first face-to-face meeting with John since the ugliness at Adler’s house. It was an awkward encounter for numerous reasons. For one thing, I had just spent an afternoon with Yoko at the Dakota, some 20 blocks away; taking a cab across town to John and May’s felt something akin to betrayal.

Perhaps sensing my apprehension, May gave me a wide berth, leaving to make some phone calls in a bedroom while John and I stood together on the balcony, catching up.

“Does this make you feel uneasy?” John asked after a beat.

“You mean being here with you and May? Yes, a little,” I admitted. “It just reminds me of the fact that you and Mother are still separated, and that makes me sad.”

“Well, that’s the way Mother wants it,” he said. “At least for now.”

Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm over my shoulders and added, “Don’t look so glum, me boy. Put on your radio face. There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

It was one of the few times he’d quoted a line to me from a Beatles song.

Walls and Bridges was released a month or so later. John sent a prereleased signed copy (“To my little dream lover on ice, with love and old pianos,” he wrote, referring to my affection for Bobby Darin’s hit song).

As it happened, Elton John had joined John on keyboards for one song on the album. Elton made a bet with John. If the song was a hit, John would have to perform at Elton’s upcoming concert at Madison Square Garden. John agreed, never imagining he’d have to honour that promise.

Of course, Elton was spot on: Whatever Gets You Thru the Night did indeed become John’s first No 1 solo single. And so it came to pass that, in November 1974, onstage at Madison Square Garden, in front of thousands and thousands of fans, that the Lost Weekend finally began to fade to a finish.

Lennon’s surprise appearance at Elton John’s concert at Madison Square Garden, November 28, 1974

The details of what exactly transpired backstage that night remain, 50 years later, shrouded in some mystery. What is known is that Yoko, who’d been invited to the concert by Elton’s manager, was in the audience. She couldn’t have been prepared for the reaction around her when Elton announced, about two thirds into the concert, that he was bringing John onto the stage for his first public performance in two years. The crowd went berserk.

After the show, Elton’s manager approached Yoko and told her that Elton had requested her presence in his dressing room. Yoko was led backstage to a door with a star on it. She knocked, the entrance opened, and inside she saw her husband standing there, alone.

I cannot tell you what happened after the dressing room door closed behind them. Nobody but Yoko knows that, and she has never shared with me any details. What I can tell you is that in the weeks and months that followed, there must have been many more rendezvous as Yoko and John re-established their connection, even as he continued living with May in their East Side apartment.

According to one of May’s early accounts, John was ultimately hypnotised into ending his relationship with her; she has long claimed that Yoko hired a mesmerist to help John quit smoking but that it was all a ruse to brainwash him into splitting up with her so he could return to Yoko. To this day, many people believe that story. But I know for certain that it wasn’t true. Because, as it happens, I’m the one who arranged the hypnotist.

Yoko had nothing to do with it.

John had remembered that I had interviewed a hypnotist on my radio show and asked me if he might be able to help him kick nicotine.

At the Lincoln Center in New York, circa 1975

I called the hypnotist, planned for him to fly to New York, booked him a room in a Midtown hotel, and set up an appointment with John. In just about every respect, though, the hypnosis was a total bust. John told me immediately afterwards he was never put under; the hypnotist claimed John was but just couldn’t remember. The hypnotist also turned out to be something of a diva. He disliked his hotel — he thought the desk clerks were rude — and checked out the next day, flying back to LA in a huff.

John didn’t quit smoking, not for a minute, so it’s hard to imagine the hypnotist had succeeded in brainwashing him into anything else — like, say, leaving a lover. But the very next day, John did break it off with May and returned to the Dakota, resuming his marriage to Yoko and ending, at last, the long and lonely winter that had been the Lost Weekend. He called me in LA shortly afterwards to share the happy news.

He said, “Let the media know the separation did not work.”

‘He’d weigh himself twice a day’

Elliot Mintz on his friendship with John and Yoko. By Georgina Roberts

When a red light in Elliot Mintz’s bedroom flashed, it meant that John Lennon or Yoko Ono was calling him on a special hotline. “In an average week, 20 hours of phone conversation would not be unusual,” the 79-year-old former radio DJ and talk-show host says from his Beverly Hills living room.

Mintz describes the friendship with the couple that “dominated” nine years of his life as “almost a kind of marriage”. He was taken aback when Ono called him in 1971 to thank him for not asking about Lennon when he interviewed her on his radio show. When they began to speak for hours at night, she batted away his concern that her husband might get jealous, saying, “Aren’t you giving yourself a little too much credit, Elliot?”

Lennon first called Mintz to ask if he could get him fat-melting pills. “That was my first conversation with John Lennon. It wasn’t philosophical. It wasn’t about Elvis or the Beatles. It was about weight loss,” he says. Sometimes Lennon would weigh himself twice a day and the couple “were obsessive about diet”.

In Hotel Okura in Tokyo, October 1975

After six months of speaking, the couple summoned him to meet them in Ojai, California, where they were trying to kick a methadone addiction. Ono barely spoke until she was in a bathroom with the tap running. “She whispered to me, ‘This house is bugged. Everything we say here, they’re listening. So you have to be very careful what you say.’ ” FBI files released years later showed that Ono wasn’t being paranoid. President Nixon had placed the couple under surveillance after rumours they planned to disrupt his convention, Mintz says.

His clandestine friendship with the couple wreaked havoc on his love life. When he couldn’t explain whom he’d been speaking to in the middle of the night, one love interest assumed he was married and stormed out. “I realised at that moment that my love life would have to take a back seat to my relationship with John and Yoko,” he says.

There were times when lines were crossed in the friendship. One morning, Lennon summoned Mintz to kick out a girl who’d stayed the night. “I told him, ‘Please don’t ask me to do something like that again.’ He flipped out. He said, ‘I will effing ask you to do anything that I feel like asking you to do. Do you understand that?’ ” Mintz was hurt and offended. The next day was one of the few times he said no to “grabbing a bite” with Lennon.

Becoming parents was “the biggest game-changer” for the couple. After his son Sean was delivered via caesarean section in 1975, “John was outraged that when Yoko was clearly struggling, doctors would come up to him and say, ‘I’ve always dreamt of shaking your hand.’ He would bark at them, ‘Look after me wife!’ ”

While Lennon threw himself into childcare, Ono, who came from a banking dynasty, handled the couple’s finances. After becoming stratospherically famous so young, Lennon was “clueless” about money. “I doubt if John was ever in a supermarket, went to a bank, wrote a cheque. That’s what Yoko did,” Mintz says. “If not for Yoko, there’d be no money in the Lennon-Ono estate today.”

A drawing by Lennon on a postcard from Japan sent to Mintz in 1977

The first time Mintz met their son, Lennon said protectively, “Not too close. Germs.” “He said, ‘Look, we were going to make you the godfather, but we decided on Elton, because he would at least give him better Christmas presents.’ ” “This is typical John,” Mintz says.

Sean would only spend five years with his father before Lennon was murdered outside the Dakota in December 1980. Lennon had always “poo-pooed” Mintz’s requests for him to employ more security. “John said, ‘I’m just a rock’n’roll singer. Who would want to hurt me?’ ”

When Mintz speaks about learning of Lennon’s murder from a weeping flight attendant, his honeyed radio-presenter voice cracks with emotion. “Even now, after all these years, just thinking about that moment…” He trails off. The most gut-wrenching of his responsibilities was making an inventory of Lennon’s possessions. When he signed for a stapled brown paper bag that came from the hospital where Lennon was taken after he was shot, he could not bear to open it. “It was what John was wearing, what he had on him when he fell, including his broken, bloodied glasses.”

He is reticent about his friendship with Ono today. “I want to give her a sense of privacy,” he says, but adds, “It still feels like family. I still love her dearly.” The last time he saw her was at her 91st birthday in February. It was there that Sean encouraged Mintz to write his book, We All Shine On. Does he think Ono will like it? “I’ve never tried to predict a Yoko Ono conclusion.”

How different would his life be if he had never met the couple? “I could have got married. Could have had children.” Were the sacrifices worth it? “Of course. I got to spend that amount of my time with these two extraordinary people.���

We All Shine On: John, Yoko, & Me by Elliot Mintz (Bantam, £25).

(source)

[sectumsempraaa]

Taking a flight with the Slytherin boys (headcanons)

i wrote these while delayed for several hours at the airport yesterday 🫶🏼 a lil something for y’all while i work on requests!

feat. Draco, Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo x reader

Draco:

- is extremely confused why he has to take off his shoes at security

- threatens the TSA agent during a pat down

- refuses to eat airport food

- pays his way into one of the airline lounges to get away from the public

- doesn’t “trust” the muggle pilot- asks if he can fly the plane instead

- “Draco this is a Boeing 747 not a Nimbus 2000”

- upgrades you both to first class and orders you expensive drinks

- aisle seat kinda guy

- booked a car service for y’all to be ready immediately upon landing

- asks his dad if they have a private jet bc he literally never wants to do that again

Mattheo:

- oh no

- where is he

- you’re not even there for 10 minutes before you lose him

- you find him signing up for Clear bc he hates waiting in lines

- sets the metal detector off bc he “didn’t know” that knives are prohibited on planes

- buys way too much stuff at the grab and go store bc he doesn’t want y’all to be hungry

- teasing you with his hands between your thighs before takeoff

- falls asleep on your shoulder for the entire flight

- big time nuzzling his face in your neck

Blaise:

- airport dad energy

- gets y’all to the airport 3 hours before takeoff

- has everyones documents photo copied in a physical folder

- if the whole group is there he is doing a headcount every 15 minutes

- puts airtags in everyones backpacks in case someone wanders off

- orders you a fancy meal on the plane. this man won’t let you settle for snacks

- makes sure you’re extremely comfortable (seat all the way back, borrowing his pillow, adjusting the air temp bc he knows you get cold)

- not a fan of heights!! plays with your hair to distract himself

Theo:

- showing up to the airport with minutes to spare

- checks all your bags bc he won’t let y’all carry that crap around

- knows your coffee order and is also a caffeinated king

- downloaded a carefully selected line up of his and your favorite films on his ipad

- buys you both painfully cheesey matching airport merch (ie: I ♡ NY shirts)

- if your flight gets delayed he is buying y’all mimosas at the airport bar

- buys the third seat so it’s just you guys in your row (so he can makeout with you whenever he wants)

Lorenzo:

- mans is dressing SO comfy

- hand on your lower back at all times

- staring at your ass all day, he lovesss when you wear those yoga pants

- gets yelled at for trying to go through the metal detector with you

- striking up conversation with strangers who have service dogs

- taking pictures of EVERYTHING

- mega turbulence anxiety but tries so hard to keep his composure for you

- definitely curated a soothing playlist for the flight

- “Y/N, you’re missing the safety demonstration”

- asks for a blanket and drapes it over both of you bc this man wants to cuddle until the wheels hit the ground

- 100% tries to sit on the actively moving baggage claim carousel

—

ALL of them refer to you as their “wife” for fun whenever talking to strangers or employees. “my wife would like a glass of champagne.” “a blanket for my wife and i, please.” “me and my wife are headed back home for the holidays.”

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.” 

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed. 

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses. 

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. 

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!” 

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered. 

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace. 

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you. 

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition. 

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled. 

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

**

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism. 

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that. 

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly. 

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you. 

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin. 

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.” 

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you. 

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it. 

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin. 

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised. 

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms. 

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue. 

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body. 

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

**

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands. 

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged. 

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. 

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door. 

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face. 

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss. 

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt. 

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes. 

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”