#tall trucks also suck

[petrothedog]

I'd like to add that I constantly accidentally flash cops because non high beam LEDs are just that bad. I'm also just extremely photosensitive to the point the halogens *also* cause me problems. PLEASE JUST AIM YOUR FUCKING HEADLIGHTS CORRECTLY USE TAPE AND A GODDAMN WALL OR GARAGE DOOR. (Halogens are the "warm" color, sincerely a car nerd)

Headlights are just too bright now. We gotta regulate them.

(And before anyone says it’s just an aiming problem - no. Like I apologize to the headlight aficionados clearly lusting after lighthouses, chernobyl, or the death star, but no amount of aiming is gonna fix the fact that the moment your car encounters any kind of hill, curve, or bump, my retinas are vaporized by a shade of blue-white previously known only to god. Just accept your limits and settle for a soft orange like the rest of us)

[avocado-writing]

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

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

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

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

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

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

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

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

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

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

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

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

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

Well, you hope you never see him again.

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

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

Yeah. You’re happy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He does see you next week.

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

“You’re always reading huh?” 

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

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

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

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

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

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

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

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

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

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, why not.”

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

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

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

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turns up. 

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

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You beam. 

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

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

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

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

“Well? I asked you a question.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

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

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

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

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

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

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

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

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

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

He softens. 

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

It does. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, even this?”

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

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

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

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

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

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

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

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

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

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

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

You do not make it to the bed. 

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

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

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

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

“That was the plan.”

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

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

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | eight

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: the one where they get caught. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, domestic bliss, gratuitous descriptions of joel reading, joni mitchell, explicit unprotected piv sex, delayed gratification, dirty talk, finger sucking, biting, academic praise kink, cream pie, who's in the pic on joel's desk??, angst, confrontation, an orpheus and eurydice metaphor uh oh, those blue panties from 3 come back to haunt us. word count: 6.9k nice series masterlist | main masterlist chapter moodboard a/n: i need someone to make me write [or not write] the way j miller phd does in this... also sorry and i hope you like it and sorry again follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part eight of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Winter descends over Maine not with a bang, but with a whimper.  

The days and weeks fold together in a blurring mess of sleep ins and papers and coffees, until suddenly a month has passed, and you hardly noticed it slipping through your fingers.

You spend less time at home, and more tucked on one side of Joel’s couch, your feet in his lap as he lounges down the other end. You dip pale toast in runny yolks at the table, listening to him on the phone to Sarah in the other room. Hear him say I’m good, baby girl… I’m really good when she asks how he is.

You ride shotgun in the truck between his place and the university, slipping out the passenger door a little early every time. Walk the final stretch lest someone notice his glasses, your hair through the windscreen.

On campus you watch him up there on his stage, a burn in your chest, and see how he seeks you out in the after. How he props you above him and returns your gaze finally. Curls his body around yours and repents for every time he had to look away.

It's warm and it’s kind and it’s trading books with scribbled notes in the margins.

It’s rain smacking against the windows as you read, his scruffy chin nesting in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, two sets of eyes staring at the same words.

It’s nodding off in his bed where the sheets have started to smell like your perfume, eyelids heavy as you wait for him to get home. It’s wearing only his clothes and being woken up by his face between your thighs, pupils blown and lips slick.  

It’s finding each other at the end of a long day and hearing him say, I thought about you all afternoon.

And this feeling of familiarity writhes between the slats of your ribs. A comfortable, quiet fondness that you see reflected in his eyes when he looks at you; that you hear when that tender mouth forms your name.

You gorge yourselves on it. Put lips to the crooks and thorns in each other’s bodies and suckle on that fondness, swallow, swallow, and watch the well never run dry.

The bleed is endless. Beneath the stain of time it floods and flurries, melting the two of you together until you start to feel certain it could never end.

Until, of course and at last, it does.

Sunday.

It’s late, you think. Somewhere in the mess where time blurs between sunset and midnight, Winter stealing hours that feel like minutes.

The curtains in his living room are drawn, low yellow light warming the room from a tall lamp in the corner. Blue spins in the on the record player, a gentle sway of sound that fills the room.

I like listening to Joni on Sundays, he’d confessed in the bathroom, bashful as he rubbed a towel over you, drying the wet ends of your hair and the slick skin of your shoulders.

He reads at the table now, strong chin cupped in his palm as his eyes flit across the pages of a textbook.

Something to do with conservation; a Minoan palace in Knossos, you think. He’d explained it earnestly, but his curls were soft and fluffy from the shower and his glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and so you’d found yourself zoning out, eyes going from round to heart shaped as you nodded along from the couch.

Every few minutes he grips his pen and jots down a note before glancing up to check on you. And whenever this happens you avert your eyes quickly, pretending to be enthralled by the half-finished essay on your screen. You have a feeling he catches you each time, because he keeps laughing softly, tutting under his breath as he goes back to reading, foot never stopping its tap-tap-tap in time with the music. The only time he gets up is to flip the record, and soon those little laughs and huffs start to mix with Joni’s bell-like voice, and the opening lyrics to California swell through the room as you type at a glacial pace.   

She sings, I met a redneck on a Grecian isle, and you glance up again, eyes turning wide and doe-like when you find Joel already watching you. He gave me back my smile, Joni sings. But he kept my camera to sell.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” Liar. “Great, even.” Bad liar.

Joel’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, lips twitching in a clear attempt to smother a laugh, but he just nods, looking back down at his book.

He’s wearing home clothes. That’s what he called them. Home clothes.

When he’d said it, still pulling them on, you’d wanted nothing more than to grip his hands and stop him in his tracks, but you’d sequestered yourself to the other side of the room instead, sorely committed to the study evening he’d suggested. But he’s in soft grey sweatpants and an even softer looking white t-shirt, and every time he sips his coffee he hums happily against the rim of his mug, and his bare foot goes tap-tap-tap and Joni sings Oh, will you take me as I am?, and—

“Come here.”

You blink. His eyebrows raise expectantly, lips split into a broad smile now.

“Unless you’d rather stay over there and keep starin’.”

You reach him as The Last Time I saw Richard, the final track on side two, begins to spin.

Joni sings, all romantics meet the same fate, and Joel’s knees fall apart, thighs splayed so handsomely across his chair, inviting you to take a seat. You ignore the woeful lyrics and focus instead on the knowing smirk on his face, taking a step forward, and another, until you’re stood between his open legs.

He doesn’t touch you. Just smiles, all saccharine and easy, leaning back in his chair.

“Much left to do?” He points at the laptop in your hands.

“Maybe another hundred words,” you grumble and put it down on the table. “Today, at least.”

Joel hums, eyes flicking down. His gaze skirts across the bare skin of your legs, the soft sleep shorts you’re wearing; ones he puts on you himself, and knows you don’t have anything beneath.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh; stops you with a soft tut when you try to straddle him. “Naw, baby, like this.”

Soft hands tilt your hips, turn you until your back is to his chest and he’s drawing you onto his lap.

“Oh.” You smile, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

Nose turned into the side of his face, you brush a kiss to the edge of his jaw and sigh in relief as he wraps his arms around your middle and squeezes.

The space between his chest and the table is a little tight; small enough that if you were to lean forward a few inches your ribs would knock against the wood.

As if he’s thinking the same thing, Joel leans forward. Presses you against the table, one hand coming up to hold your face. His fingers are soft on your skin, offering small amounts of pressure as he grips your jaw and encourages you to look forward.

“Gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” he asks.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up a little, skin prickling at the shift in his tone. Still soft, still quiet, yet with something… demanding, shifting just below the surface.

“You,” you say, cringing at the way your voice takes on a higher quality all of a sudden. Steeling yourself, you add, “You’re distracting me.”

“Wasn’t doing anythin’,” he responds simply. “Just sittin’ over here, minding my business while you burn holes in my head.” 

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I cooked dinner.” He squeezes you again. “Fed you. We showered, and now I’m readin’.”

“You were humming.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear.

“And tapping.”

He flutters his fingers against your hip.

“S’that such a crime?” he murmurs.

“No, but…” You sigh when his tongue snakes out, tracing the soft curve of your earlobe. “But it…”

“But but but,” Joel mocks, and you can feel his sick smirk against your neck, teeth teasing along your carotid now. “But all you can think about is my cock, ain’t that right?”

Your stomach falls away. Everything firm inside you turns to goo as he laughs, knowing he’s right.

“So needy,” he taunts you, holding your hip tighter as his length begins to thicken against your ass. “Had all day to ask for it.”

You don’t respond, tongue tied and more uninterested in your essay than ever.

“Just lookin’ for a distraction now,” he teases lightly. “The more you put it off, the harder it’ll be to get it done, baby.”

“I know.”

“If you know.” He hooks a finger over the waistband of your shorts. “Then finish it.”

“S’not that simple,” you whine, rolling your hips over his lap. A sharp puff of air warms the back of your neck, so you do it again. His hand tightens around your jaw.

“Just a hundred words, right?” he coaxes gruffly. “Come on now, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You feel his thick cock beneath his sweats, stiff and pressing between the crease of your thighs, melting what’s left of your resolve. You want to grind down against it. To pull your soft sleep shorts to the side and let him sink inside with no more pretence. But you put your hands on the desk, eyes on the screen, and Joel slides his warm palms beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Floats them over the curve of your stomach, the soft flesh around your ribs, waking thousands of tiny hairs that cover your skin until his fingers meet your chest, and he cups your breasts.

You shiver, lids growing heavy as he squeezes and tickles at your skin. Your nipples harden to peaks against his rough palms, and he sighs at the feeling, face resting against the back of your neck as he plays.

“Fuck,” you sigh, voice a broken buzz in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “I thought you wanted me to write.”

“I do,” Joel murmurs unconvincingly. “A hundred words, go on.”

Hands like lead on the table, it feels like an impossible task. Even more than it did ten minutes ago. You force yourself to lift your fingers to the keyboard, vision sharpening as you look for where you left off. You try to shut him out, try to ignore the way his tongue warms the skin on your neck, the way the hairs on his thighs tickle against yours, and begin to write.

But he doesn’t make it easy.

The second you finish the first sentence one of his hands drifts down your stomach to cup your pussy over your shorts. You flinch, heart galloping in your chest when he sighs in your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, pleading already. “I can’t if you…”

“You can,” he soothes. The warmth of his palm is suffocating, so hot against where you’re already wet and wanting. Thick fingers press against the fabric, nudging it between your slick folds until it goes damp. “Just ignore me, baby.”

“Easier said than done,” you reply. You type five more words, chest rattling with heavy breaths as he paws at you, thumbing at your clit through your shorts.

His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his soft curls tickle your skin as you try to focus.

“Ignore me,” he repeats, and you squeak as he tilts you forward. A rush of breath spills from your mouth, chest flush to the desk, ass suspended above his lap as he shifts behind you. And when he pulls you back down, you sigh pathetically over the fact that he’s pushed his sweats down.

The full weight of his length presses against you, nestled between the rounded flesh of your ass, and you manage to mumble his name.

“Just—” You’re panting now; considering begging. “—I can do this later. I will finish it later, I swear, just—”

Joel nudges your shorts to the side and presses a finger between your folds. A ragged gasp stutters out of you, finger jammed against the keyboard. A steady stream of kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk fills a line of the document as he smears your wetness up to your clit.

“Fuck,” you mumble, hips tilting forward, trying to chase the feeling.

“None of that,” he tuts quickly, other hand slipping down and pinching the skin at the inside of your thigh. You’ve only backspaced half of the k’s when he slips two fingers inside you. “Come on, now.”

Thirty words fly as he crooks his fingers inside you. Slow and gentle, thumb rubbing messy circles against your clit as he works you open.

“That’s it,” he coos, pressing a third finger inside. Your cunt sucks desperately at his fingers, the skin of your face warming as you catch a glimpse of your reflection on the laptop screen. Jaw hanging low, a silent prayer for relief written across the open slant of your mouth. “My smart girl. Knew they didn’t give you that degree for nothin’.”

You gasp and swat at his wrist, but a satisfied little smile cracks your face for a moment when he laughs. Only for it to fall seconds later when he lays a sharp bite to the back of your shoulder. You moan, voice cracking around his name, rutting desperately against his hand.

“You can do it,” he flatters you, sickly sweet and entirely convincing as he strokes at your insides. Curling and stretching until you’re turning to a wet trembling mess in his lap, wobbling through half-assed sentences that you aren’t sure even match up with your essay outline anymore.

“Good,” Joel murmurs. “That’s good.”

“Don’t look,” you slur out, heart pounding at the idea of him reading anything you’ve written in this state. “It’s f-for your class, you can’t look.”

“Not lookin’.” He noses at the back of your ear. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Just lookin’ at you, m’always just lookin’ at you.”

“I’ll finish it.” You switch up your tactic now. Voice low and breathy, the back of your head resting heavy on his shoulder, eyes longing to close. “Tomorrow, I’ll write it—”

“Tomorrow?” His thumb drags harder on your clit.

“Yes,” you gasp, stomach tensing. You feel a bit floaty all of a sudden. Locked out of your own mind, all thoughts spilling from between your thighs as desire grips you, consumes you. “Please, just…”

“What, baby?” he prompts. “Say it.”

“Just let me sit on your cock,” you groan. “Please, I can’t think right now, I’ll finish it, I promise.”

“You fuckin’ promise—Christ,” he grumbles, fingers drifting from your tight clutch. “Just a little more, baby, for me.”

You don’t even really know how it happens after that. Ears roaring, skin tight, everything is a blur as you write and write and write and he presses his leaking tip between your folds works you down onto his length. Hands everywhere, so warm, so rough, holding your thighs, your waist, your breasts, your shorts to the side. Slower when your gasps spin higher, you think, always knowing when to ease up, when the burn gets too much too quick.

Joel grips your thighs, prying them apart until your calves are on the outside of his, and then he’s shifting his legs open wide, giving your own no choice but to follow. You feel the full weight of him in this position. The long, thick stretch of his cock inside you as your legs dangle listlessly over his lap, toes straining and failing to reach the floor. You can do nothing but rest heavily across his thighs, those hands still everywhere all at once, and whine pitifully as your walls spasm and clench around him, coil inside pulling tighter and tighter.

Vision waning, the text on your screen warbles as Joel slips the pad of his finger against your clit and begins to play with it. Soft little rubs that have you going tense and leaning forward on the table, braced on your elbows and grinding down into his lap, desperate for release, for movement, anything. It feels like your brain is splintering into a thousand tiny pieces inside your skull.

“You’re so wet,” Joel rasps, forehead heavy against your shoulder blade as he groans. “Pretty pussy’s drippin’ all over me, honey. You really need it that bad?” 

You say something you think, mouth moving and eyes rolling as his hips shift up in a weak little thrust. Just one.

“Keep goin’.” He sounds pained, half-drunk as the words stumble out of him.

Your mind slips further from your grasp and you’re typing pure gibberish. Slurring messes of letters cloaked in perfect punctuation. Your fingers fly across the keys, painting commas and full stops and semi colons around complete and utter bullshit as your cunt flutters and your belly stirs.

His finger glides and his cock pulses and your vision darkens and you come. Shoulders hunched, table digging into your forearms, you fold forward and cry out as an agonisingly brief orgasm rips through you.

It’s over before it’s even begun, but Joel groans and offers a shallow thrust, your cry turning to a gasp as he grips your thigh for dear life.

“Oh good girl,” he murmurs, fingers slowing against your nerves, not wanting to overwhelm. “Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now. Liquid frustration that pools against your waterline and threatens to spill when he still doesn’t fuck you how you need him to.

“How much left?” he asks roughly, rocking his hips against yours in a steady pace now. Gentle, rolling movements that snag on the heels of your orgasm and hold it close.

“Huh?”  

“How many words?”

“I don’t…” Your eyelids flutter. “I don’t know.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” he laughs a little then, rueful but not unkind. “That’s gonna be hell to edit.”

With a furious groan you slam the laptop closed, the sharp smack of metal on metal filling your ears as he grips your hips and really starts to fuck you.

It’s not fast though, not rough. Just deep, lingering strokes that grind against the end of you and nudge you stumbling toward the edge. He pinches your clit between the tips of his middle and ring fingers, rubbing slow drags up and down against the hood like that. Moaning and sweating, you slip your hand over his. Press lower and let your fingers glide around his girth, thick and vascular between your thighs, hot skin wetter every time he pulls out of you.

“Feel that?” Joel pants, teeth nipping at the top of your spine. “You’re creamin’ for me, baby. Fuck, I—I need to taste it.”

“Shit—oh god.”

He grips your wrist and drags it up, chin harsh against your shoulder as he sucks your fingers into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is filthy as his hot tongue snakes out to lick the webbing between your fingers, and you tip your head to watch his eyes roll back. His thighs tremble beneath you, but you can’t be sure it’s not just the vibrations of your own body tricking you.

But no, it’s him. His hips stutter against yours, deep plunges stilting into shallow movements, and he stalls deep inside your cunt for a second on the end of every thrust, as if his brain is short-circuiting.

You hook your fingers in his mouth, the tips digging into the gums behind his teeth, and tug him back to reality. He nips at your fingers and moans, hand falling heavy between your thighs again. And he doesn’t stop now; keeps pushing and pinching and fucking and grinding until your pussy is pulling tight and slick around his length and your fingers are fanned loose and shaky across his face, and you can hardly breathe except to say Joel or please or oh my god.

“Can feel it,” he grunts breathlessly, skin smacking against yours in a sharp staccato beat. “Deep breath, baby, c’mon, let me have it.”

“Your teeth,” you gasp feverishly. “Bite me again.” 

“Fuck,” he snarls and then he’s grating the hard line of his incisors along your shoulder.

The sweet pinch of his canines digging into your back sets your cunt aflutter around him, mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as he fucks you full of his seed and you suck it in deep, tight with longing, still panting and high when it begins to drip from where you’re connected, spooling around his cock and smearing between your thighs and his.

His chest heaves against your back. Chest hair damp wet sweat, dripping through your thin shirt until it can’t decide whether to cling to his skin or yours. There’s an ache at the base of your spine, maybe a muscle pulled, and his thumb presses into the flesh there as if he can sense it.

Sounds come back slowly. Joni’s finished and the needle tracks around the runout groove on the record, a little crackle flaring every few seconds where the two channels join. Joel’s breathing too, rough against your shoulder, harmonising with the wet sound of his lips peeling from your skin.

You tilt your head to the side.

Wild eyed, cunt-struck, Joel knocks his nose against yours. Groans low when you flick your tongue out to graze across his bottom lip. He’s bitten it rough and ragged and red, and you want to soothe the sting. His glasses are on top of his head, smudged lenses tucked amidst wild fluffy curls.

You try to kiss him, hard and wet, but he stops you with a hand to your jaw. Cradles your face and strokes your cheekbone and wipes the spittle from your lips before kissing you lightly. Chaste and gentle, like the two of you are ten and have never kissed anyone before, have never been brave enough to use your tongues.

That invisible bleed in your chest drips heavier. You picture a thick spurt of red against your chest cavity as he kisses the corners of your mouth, the tip of your nose, your eyelids.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling when his lips catch and drag across your skin with the movement of your head.

A moment passes like this. Searching kisses dotted over your smiling face. The swell of your cheeks, the ends of your eyebrows.

“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t real,” Joel confesses. A bare bones whisper that tickles the skin between your eyebrows, where his lips rest now. “Like you might just melt away if I don’t hold on tight enough. Disappear if I look away too long, and I’ll be stuck tryna convince myself that you were ever really here.”

Twisted up in his arms, you can feel the way his heart batters against his chest, thrashing through to vibrate against your back. He might as well be plucking the admission straight from your own mouth.

“I’m real,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m here, it’s real.”

“Me too,” he says. Something wet tickles your skin, but it’s gone in a second. Rubbed over by his thumb, soothed with another kiss.

I love you, you think, but when you speak it comes out as, “No melting.”

Joel laughs softly. Kisses you again. “No melting.”

Thursday.

“It was too much.”

“It was fine.”

“I said the word grateful three times.”

“Four, actually.” You chew the inside of your cheek and shrug apologetically. “I counted.”

“Jesus,” Joel sighs, reaching up to a drag a hand over his face.

He’s pulled his desk chair all the way across the office. Tie loosened and top buttons undone, he slumps in it a little. His thick knees almost brush against yours where you sit in his armchair.

“Hey, I liked it,” you smile, bumping his knee. “It was nice - shows you care.”

“Well, you ain’t all that hard to please,” Joel smarts, lip quirking up into a sly grin.

Mouth open in a scoff, you feign offence, dragging your laptop from your satchel and making a show of ignoring him.

“How the mighty fall,” he continues, sighing dramatically and tilting his head over the back of the chair. The light coming in through the window hits his face just right, and the grey hairs in his curls shine. “Grateful to have been your professor… asshole.”

“Don’t be precious,” you laugh softly. “You’re just embarrassed because you said you were going to miss us.”

“That was a lie,” Joel tuts, brushing you off with a hand in the air, biting back that grin. “I ain’t gon’ miss any of you assholes. And when those final papers come in—” He taps a finger against the top of your laptop “—I’ll be sayin’ my prayers that any of you can string a worthwhile sentence together.”

“If you’re lucky,” you drawl, batting his hand away. “You’ll teach some of us again next year. And when that semester finishes, you’ll say all of that shit again, because you’re a sap, Joel Miller.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, face softening, and then clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Smart ass.”

“And you love it,” you quip easily, only balking a moment later when the word hangs awkwardly in the air. Hands pausing on your keyboard, you glance up, neck hot, only to find Joel watching you still. Face suspended in a small smile; eyes light as he nods.

“I do,” he says after a moment. “But you’re on thin ice, wise guy.”

He plucks a book from his desk and spreads it open on his lap, either not noticing or simply not caring as you watch on, slack jawed. I do.

After a moment, Joel taps his foot against yours again. “Write.”

So, sucking in a breath, you do. Time passes and rain starts to drizzle against the window as you write, and Joel reads. Having forgotten to put a record on like normal, he hums lightly under his breath; some tune you can’t place but still nod along to. Every few minutes he turns his page, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate the way he holds books. Hate the way he cradles the spines, thumb hooked around the footnotes to hold his page. Hate the way his fingers trace the stanzas as he reads, tender and patient, and always afraid to miss something. Hate most the way the tendons on the backs of his hands flex when he turns the page. How the veins around them go fat and blue the longer he does this, as if all the blood in his body is sprinting towards the words. It’s a dangerous sort of eroticism, watching him read. You hate how much you love it.

In need of reprieve, you focus on your own hands. Crack tired knuckles and stretch out cramps and aches, taking a moment to peer over at his desk. The picture frame you’d once been so curious about is propped on the edge of it once again.

You can see Joel behind the glass panel, sporting a shit-eating grin with Sarah, clad in a graduation gown, tucked proudly against his chest. Taken the day she finished high school, you know now. And you’d never noticed it that first time, months ago, but Ellie’s face rests in the corner of the picture. Pink tongue stuck out and eyes pinched shut; she’d snuck her head into the frame at the last second apparently.

You gaze fondly at it, and feel that familiar warmth in your chest over the fact that he’s put it back out. No more hiding.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Joel glances over his shoulder, and then smiles.

“It’s a good photo,” you say. “You look so happy there.”

“I was. It’s one of my favourites,” he nods, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He seems to consider you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face, fingers fidgeting with the corner of his page. “Hey, I uh… Sarah actually called yesterday.”

He pauses. Takes an unusually deep breath and folds the book shut.

“Okay.” You blink, confused. “Is she alright?” 

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, she was uh, she was askin’ about the holidays, and if—”

The office door creaks open, and Joel’s mouth seals shut as Rachel walks hastily inside, rushed words filling the small room.  

“Joel, sorry, I need to grab—oh.”

There’s an odd pause after the words catch in her throat. A moment of uncomfortable stillness as the three of you inhale all at once, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

You and Joel aren’t touching, but your knees rest close, one of his feet in the space between yours on the carpet. Laptop propped on your knees, your final essay still lays open with a stream of edits pasted through the margins, cursor blinking at the end of the word nostos.

Joel, tie undone and sleeves rolled up, looks painfully casual in your presence.

“Sorry.” Rachel blinks, hovering awkwardly as the door clicks shut behind her. “I didn’t realise you had a… a meeting today?” The end of her sentence flares up, as if she’s confused, phrasing it like a dubious little question.

You offer a smile in her direction and hope it comes across as relaxed, a little encroaching even; as if you are the one who has interrupted; the one who should not be here.

“It’s fine,” Joel supplies easily, straightening in his chair to give her his full attention. His face gives nothing away. Stoic and calm, the way you’d imagine him to be if you weren’t here at all. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she says, frowning like she’s affronted by the question. Looks between the two of you again, listless fingers curling at her sides. “Just came to get that Livy copy back

You look back at your screen and will yourself to type something. To appear casual, studious, as if your heart isn’t lodged in the base of your throat.

“Sure,” he nods, gesturing vaguely toward his desk. “It’s in one of the drawers on the left.”

Rachel nods, walking over to the desk, and as her back turns you spare a glance at Joel. Find him already looking at you, eyebrows pulled down a little. Pink lips mouth It’s fine, married with a soft nod of his head, and for the second time in seconds you attempt a smile. 

There’s the sound of wood sliding against wood, and then a soft, tired kind of silence. The lack of sound seems to swell, the air in the room thinning, your eyes focusing on Joel’s fingers on the armrest of his chair, tap tap tap, Rachel’s unruly curls somewhere past that, her face downturned, looking at something. Wary breaths held in unison, synced heart beats racing. It’s fine, it’s fine, no melting.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Your head snaps up. Joel turns in his chair and begins to ask what’s wrong, but all that ends up coming from him is a sort of choked noise, rough around the edges, and breathless in the middle. Chest on fire, you let yourself look past him to where she stands.

Her gaze is hard as she stares Joel down from across the room. A slip of blue; soft material visible between her fingers, held up for a stunned chorus to see.

Your hearing deafens a little as you look on, motionless, a vague memory of birthday boy and got your cute little panties all soaked thinkin’ ‘bout my cock? playing in your mind. Of a damp patch on his shirt as he tucked blue into his desk drawer.

Joel says Rachel’s name, you think. Can see the way his jaw moves, the way her dark eyes sharpen, flitting back and forth between the two of you. And then, like a volcanic eruption or the swell beneath a wave, realisation crests the hill and It’s fine cracks and crumbles and turns to dust in your grasp. You don’t know what she knows, or how she knows, you just know that she does.

“You… what is this?” Rachel’s face shifts into something uncomfortable. A warped, grotesque shot at a smile. But as her lips curl upward, eyebrows down, it’s nothing but a contorted mess that blurs endlessly between confusion, surprise, and then horror. “This… her? She’s the reason you—”

“Rachel.” Joel’s entire body is wound tight. You can see the edge of his jaw from where you sit; the way his shoulders pull back, tight he watches her.

Your body seems to hold itself together for a moment. Breath caught on an inhale, lungs expanded, eyes frozen on the hard line of his nose, the arm of his glasses—places you feel safe to hover. But then she speaks again, and everything lurches back into focus. Like a needle scratching on a record, or tires squealing as a car pulls to an abrupt stop at a red—the words make you cringe, chest deflating and face crumpling.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she’s saying, and her voice raises, louder to match the disbelief in her tone. “You… she’s a fucking student.”

When the fear hits it doesn’t come slowly. It strikes hard and solid; an icy sheet of dread that sucks at your fingers and numbs your extremities. Cool and abrupt, it sinks to your bones and promises that you’ll never again feel anything but this. It laughs in the face of your warm kind month, pressing its chilled ice picks to the back of your eyes until they burn.

Her words hang heavy in the air, thick weights that press down on three sets of shoulders, and you have never wanted anything the way you want to see Joel’s face right now. To look at him and believe that this isn’t as bad as you know it to be. See that mouth tell you it’s fine and remember how it tastes.

Instead, a fear-stricken Orpheus, you will yourself not to look at him. Despite that longing, the way your arms beg to stretch out, to hold and be held, you do not look. No, you don’t think you could suffer the double death of both knowing this is happening and seeing him know it too.

In his place, you let your eyes turn to Rachel, and find that she already stares at you, small mouth cracked ajar in incredulity.

Mind whirring, racing, stumbling; fumbling to pin back together the pieces of who you once were in her eyes and who you are now. This woman you admire so, whose career path you’ve dreamt of, whose wit and quirk has propelled you, invigorated you.

It’s agonising to watch—the way her face morphs into something so unfamiliar as she looks at you now. An expression that once held only admiration, kindness, marred here by an inexplicable sense of pity. Not hate, or contempt, which perhaps would be easier to handle. Easier than the way those dark orbs go round and solemn with worry as they fall upon your anguished frame. It’s a slap in the face; camaraderie washed down the drain like the dregs of a long overdue bath, as she grips your soiled underwear in her fist.

Joel says her name, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s said it now, and she spurns his attempt at placation like a snake. Fast and deadly, venom dribbling from her tongue. 

“Someone else?” she says, and her voice is like never before. Mirthless and cold, fury laced through every word. With a sharp jerk of her elbow, she tosses the underwear across the room. They land against Joel’s chest, caught silently in his fist. “You’re fucking sick.”

“This isn’t what you think it is—” Joel starts, and you think you hear his voice shake.

“It isn’t?” She laughs cruelly at that. “You haven’t been sleeping with one of our students?”

The cursor blinks on your screen. Nostos, nostos, nostos, nostos.

“Listen, can we talk about this somewhere else?” he asks. “Not like this, I—”

“Oh, is this not a convenient time for you?” she scowls. “Jesus Christ.”   

The urge to speak bubbles in your chest. You don’t even know what you’re going to say until the words are spilling from your lips, disjointed and warbled, a voice that doesn’t even sound like your own.

“I pursued him,” you say.

You can feel them looking at you. Can hear the way you must sound to her, like some kid and not a woman who’s almost thirty years old and just as much to blame. But you can’t stop it.  

“We’re both adults. He never made me do anything I didn’t—”

Joel says your name sharply. His fist, in the periphery of your downturned gaze, grips your balled up underwear so tight that the blue is entirely invisible within the thick masts of his fingers.

You suck in a breath, and it feels like the last bit of air in the room disappears into your lungs, so you hold it there. Keep it safe inside and figure that if all three of you were to suffocate then at least the truth, and all the foul consequences that come with it, would die here with you.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Silence falls in the lull after those words, and it takes a moment for you to look up, finally. To realise that the double death wasn’t in looking at Joel, but in understanding that he’d spoken these words to you, not her.

Eyes locked with his, you feel the fear move to your side. Hang low until it ebbs and flows in the space beneath your ribs—a sharp ache with no end in sight. He looks tired; resigned. Mouth thin and downturned, cheeks splashed with red.

You think you must say something. Some fumbling, awkward acknowledgement, because Rachel is giving you that look again and you can’t bear it. Can’t stand those eyes, that misplaced pity.

You collect your things, hands numb as you pile them into your bag and head for the door, skin prickling in defence against the silence that follows your movements.

Outside his office, alone in the long corridor, you know you should go. Should follow the wall down the stairs, out to your car, and not look back. Can you give us a minute? But that sharp ache leaves you cowering against the wall, limbs heavy, ear to his door. 

“Rach,” Joel says softly, and it’s so familiar that your stomach rolls, lids fluttering closed. “It isn’t what you think, just let me explain, alright? We met before the term began; before she was my student. Before.”

“And then?”

“What?”

“I said, and then?” Rachel’s voice is steely. “You met her before and, what, you saw her in class and decided it was fine to let it continue? You—”

“Everything was consensual. You know me, I would never—”

“It’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Did you not think about what would happen if you were found out? Her credibility will be destroyed, Joel.”

“I know—”

“I mean for fucksake, her first major presentation was given at a conference where you were the keynote speaker. How do you think this will look?”

“Fuck, I know. Can you keep your voice down, please.”

There’s a brief silence. You hear shuffling, feet against carpet, and a dull spike of fear flares in the back of your mind. The idea of getting caught a second time, eavesdropping from outside the door. Against better judgement, you don’t move, and Rachel speaks again.

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I don’t know you. I… you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response over the drumming in your ears. Hot blood thrashes and roars inside your body, veins pounding with terror. Hands shake damp and weary at your sides, thinking hard, hard, grasping for solution, for the chance to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.

But he must have said something because then you hear it. A low fragment of a human voice, words spoken clear as day. They slice through your ears and have you peeling away from the door, swallowed by a white-hot longing to disappear as you stumble down the hall, the stairs, until you’re sucking in cold air on the pavement outside.  

It’s raining hard now. Thin spray that comes at you sideways, lashing at your face and blinding you. You curl your back to the downpour and search thoughtlessly for your car, hands outstretched, those words of hers ricocheting off the inside of your skull.

When you find it, you press your key into the door and slump inside, and you still can’t avoid it. She might as well be standing right by the door, peering in at you. Shock in the jut of her brow, disappointment in the slant of her mouth as she whispers those words over and over through the crack in your window.

"I don’t care if you love her, Joel. I have to report you.”

refs:

joni mitchell's 1971 Blue album. [life changer]

the hollow men by t. s. elliot [fat juicy banger of a poem]

orpheus and eurydice from metamorphoses by ovid, tr. by a. d. melville

thank you for reading x

[wowserb0wser]

“Tornado Wrangler”

A/N: Watched Twisters last night and I was literally drooling in the theaters for David Corenswet and Glen Powell. But Glen my boy has many fanfics written for him, not so much for David!! I am here to change that!! Was like crazy horny when writing this, I should be ashamed but I am not.

Paring: Scott x AFAB reader

Description: you work as a lab tech for one of the companies suppling the "storm par" with money and having to check that everything was going to plan. You expected the tornados to be the most interesting part while being in Oklahoma, but a certain science engineer catches your attention and you catch his. Kate’s not in this one :(

WC: 7.5k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warning(s): MDI!!! Scott being a meanie-weenie at first but he warms up quickly. Nervous!F!Reader, Smut ahead!!! 18+ Size kink, Dry humping, Dirty talking, Finger sucking, Oral (f receiving), Reasonable age-gap (Scott is 26, reader is 23), Pet names = baby, big girl, Kinda degrading/Not really??, Protected penetration (PinV), Slight!DomScott! + Slight!Sub!Reader!, Scott actually never shuts up during sex. MY BOY IS VOCAL🗣️

You've known Javi ever since he left the military. He was looking for grants to fund his "science project". You just happen to be working for one of the businesses that agreed to give him and his whole team equipment, his pitch was impressive and your boss sent you out to know exactly how their money was spent for this experiment. At last that's what they told you, now being in the field, it seemed more like a punishment for you. Not that you didn't like tornados - you did… but only from behind a computer screen. You were a scientist that primarily worked inside of an AC’ed lab, not the blistering heat of Oklahoma and especially with chasing tornados in person and close.

Now here. Faced with an awkward car ride with Javi to meet the whole team. It wasn't completely awkward with Javi, it's just that you haven't spent such a long time alone with him before this moment. At least he tried to make small talk.

It wasn't much further to the meet up spot. And it was clear that every other person who wanted to chase down a tornado was also meeting at the same spot as us.

Javi parks the truck next to an exact same model and makes it as the one you're in, the only difference was the tag line that separates them from each other, the other was “Scarecrow” while yours was “Lion”. That's when you looked around and saw them. They wore matching white button downs with the small label that was wrapped on your truck and the matching one next to you. It read "Storm Par". You've heard of the company, but it wasn't the company you work for, it must be another company that was lending them money.

One particular team mate stuck out from one another. He was tall - tall as in towering over everyone else in the group.

Javi was quick to get out of the car and open your door, lending you his hand to help you get out and stepping straight into loose dirt that went everywhere. You were truly out of your lab.

You follow closely behind Javi while passing through the crowd, people shouting over each other and country music blasting in every direction. You saw some people gather into a set-up booth with merch that had a specific saying, but couldn't tell what it said from your distance. All you could see was a man standing on his truck with sunglasses and a cowboy hat that covered a good portion of his face. You can hear him riling up the crowd. As you get closer to Javi’s group, you can tell who's in charge already. That person being the same tall man that caught your eyes first.

The closer to the man you pick upon what he looks like, he wears almost blacked out sunglasses and a faded blue baseball cap. His dark hair slightly peeking out the corners of his hat, his eyebrows quite hidden behind said sunglasses and a straight smile that barely showed any interest. It was such a night and day comparison to Javi and everyone else on the team as they put on their bright smiles for you as a warm welcome.

Both of you reach the "Storm Par" group of men. Javi welcomes you to the group all-whistle introducing everyone's names and where they went to school. Stopping before the tall man. Giggling to himself before introducing the man, "And this is Scott. He went to MIT-" Javi giggles again at how Scott's reaction hasn't changed. "No, no, no - He makes up for it. With his beautiful, amazing, personality!” Javi praises and justifies. The stoic deadpan faced man. Javi’s hand resting on Scott's shoulder. A quick smile flashes you clean bright teeth. He looks sharp. The clean white freshly ironed button down compared with the other "hillbilly's with a camera" more dirty and not freshly pressed shirts. Javi pats quickly on Scott's shoulder and puts his hands back down. His earbuds still in his ears, you couldn't tell if he even heard your name. Dark aviator sunglasses hid his expression. His jaw clutches down on a piece of gum.

There was an aura about Scott. Nonchalant, unfazed, calm facial expression that draws you in. His tall figure, being around 6’4ft. His arms pulled together crossed against his chest. His forearms stretching the fabric on the short sleeved buttoned shirt, his skin glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun, he was just lightly tanned. You saw how those arms were built and your eyes started trailing down his torso….

Quickly you blinked away from that thought and continued to focus on Javi's words rather than standing and practically drooling over this guy's physique that you literally just met. But you could feel Scott's eyes lingering on your face for a second longer.

After Javi finishes his mini speech he pulls you to the side. "Look, if you're too nervous about going out there then you can just wait at the motel while me and the crew go out." He offers with a sympathetic smile. You were about to accept his offer but remembered why you were out here in the first place. “No, I think I'm ready to see what our money supports." You retort back. Once hearing you, he laughs and slightly shakes his head, “You're never ready for your first tornado.".

You looked towards the group again and saw Scott and some others looking at yours and Javi’s direction. You knew what they thought. That you weren't up for a challenge, time to prove them wrong.

“So when do we head out?" You say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit in the "Tin-man" truck along with Javi and Scott, they both sit in the front seat while you were directed to specifically sit in the back. You were quick to put your seatbelt on and Javi slammed on the pedal to start on their chase. A few minutes pass. The music is barely audible and occasionally Scott said to turn either right or left. While on a straight dirt road you muster the courage to start asking questions, “So what exactly does Tornado chasing intel?". Javi once again laughs, simultaneously thinking about how to explain it as simply as possible. Scott doesn't seem to mind or acknowledge your question. Javi responses, “Okay. We start with looking at our data, thank you Scott, and see where a tornado could possibly occur." He taps on the steering wheel to focus. “What do you mean "possibly occur''?”. You expect Javi to continue answering your questions, but Scott's voice pierce the air.

“It all depends on if the seal breaks by the anvil. Warm air goes up and cold air goes down, this continues to build and some other factors that's hard to explain quickly. " He looks back at you, his blue eyes stare down at you. This was the first time seeing his face without those sunglasses and you surely weren’t disappointed. It causes your cheeks to flood with warming. Hopefully the two men didn't notice. Scott turns his head back to the laptop seated on his lap.

The laptop starts beeping, the screen showing bright colors swirling. Both men start smiling at the screen and start hyping each other up for this tornado.

This was so different from being in the lab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shook in the truck's backseat, hearing Javi and Scott yelling over the roaring tornado that was getting closer by the seconds they were outside. The faint snaps of the radar planting into the ground and heavy footsteps rushing back to the truck. Scott reaches for the middle console and holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth, Javi is already putting the car in drive to get away from the approaching tornado. “Our’s is set. We're coming back! Over!” He quickly speaks into the radio and refocuses back on his laptop to see the already updating data scans.

Scott fists his hand together and cheers a little for the successful radar. Javi joins in and whoops the same. Scott's chest puffs in and out, trying to calm down the adrenaline rush that just came washing over his whole body. A big toothy smile shines, he quickly glanced behind to see if you’re sharing the same amount of enjoyment in what they accomplished. Anticipating the same range of emotions as them. This was your first tornado chase and it being so successful out the door was a great performance.

He was shocked to see you clenching the doors handle for dear life with your eyes shut. At first he thought you were hurt but then realized that you were scared of the tornado that is several hundred feet behind you, still chasing you, but from a safer distance. He snaps his fingers and quickly thinks, “Hey!” Snap. “Look at me. You are safe, we are getting out of here.” His quick words make you open your eyes and lock into his, his calm exterior puts an odd sense of ease in your nerves though you know you weren’t completely away from a dangerous tornado. Again, those dark blue eyes barrow into yours. “Okay.” You softly respond back and slowly pull your fingers away from the door handle.

Steading your hands with some deep breaths. Javi also comforts you, “That was just an E-F 3, that was easy peasey! Nothing to be scared of! We’ll be with the rest of the gang in a few minutes.” He smiles in the reflection in the rear view mirror, still focusing on the road ahead of him. You just nod along and breathe deep. Scott watches you for a little long to make sure you don’t work yourself into a panic attack, partially because he really doesn’t want to deal with a stranger going crazy but because a small part of him doesn’t want you to have a panic attack.

Thankfully it wasn’t long till you all were back to a shitty Motel which was the meeting spot to review their new information being downloaded and importing it into a 3D model. Which happens to take a couple of hours to do so, but this Motel happens to be next to a little Ma and Pa diner. Many other tornado chasers ended up at the same Motel, there was already a crowd forming and music playing when you stepped out of the truck to get fresh air.

Without another word, your feet start moving to the Diner. Food and some soda should help.

You were a couple of feet away from the entrance when you heard running footsteps, looking back to see if you needed to move out the way for said runner but was pleasantly surprised to see Scott rushing over to you. Once you make eye contact, or suppose eye contact because he was wearing his sunglasses once again, he started to slow down and his long legs didn’t take long until he was close enough to speak.

His face is still straight and unbothered, he pulled his earbuds off to the side, “Was wondering where you were off so quick.” Was there some cheeky tone laced in his question? You look back forwards the Diner and smile back at Scott. “Maybe a greasy burger will put my mind to ease.” You quip back and turn your heels back in the same direction as before, “Want to join?” You ask as you're already walking to the entrance.

After ordering entries and drinks you both sit at a booth that sits next to a picture window that looks out to the mostly plain fields and hanging decorative lights connected to posts around the Diner. This town in Oklahoma was quaint, without the tornados you would consider this to be perfect.

Turning your head to face Scott, he took off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. His eyes drift towards yours once he notices that you were looking at him. “I don’t think you're made for this.” He shamelessly speaks, unsure why his words hurt you more than when Javi accused you of the same. But hearing it after the chase stung more. A small frown on your lips. Scott was quick to speak up again before you could respond. “Not saying this to be mean or rude, but what we do is dangerous and I can’t have someone freaking out all the while. I can’t focus on our job when you’re having a panic attack in the back seats.” He explains with some condescending attitude but mainly because he was still frustrated with caring slightly about you.

He couldn’t deny it. He found you rather attractive, your demeanor being a little shy but he could tell you’d warm up quickly. First introduction catches him so off-guard, your smile so bright and your voice as you say hello to everyone. ‘Such a pretty girl’ he thought as his eyes looked you up and down quickly. And he swears he thought he caught you checking him out as well. But seeing you so scared made him nervous to be in the truck, he wanted to grab you and comfort your worries away.

“Wow. No sugar coating for me huh?” You softly giggle an exhale. You knew he was right, it sucked to hear it though. “Cut right through the bullshit.” You further say and stretch your arms out to find some sort of relief. He laughs at you cursing, it was the first time hearing you curse and to be frank, it wasn’t threatening whatsoever. He found it amusing, you were cute. Especially because from his outburst your cheeks are flushed with pink embarrassment. “I don’t mess around.” He tries to play, a sly smile on his lips but you groan and put your hand on your head without seeing it. “I thought I could handle it.” You mutter into your hands, your voice sounding disappointed. Now Scott felt bad for speaking.

Quick on his feet, “Remember what Javi said; “You’re never ready for your first tornado.” You just needed to experience it.” You drop your hands down to the table and look back at the man across from you. His jaw goes up and down while chewing the same piece of gum. Staring at his lips for a few seconds before your eyes trail back to his eyes but there was a certain glimmer when your eyes connected, a smile curving his lips.

Gosh. You had no clue why every single thing he did made you have a visceral reaction. Simultaneously he knew what he was doing.

Food is placed down on your table and your mouth watered at the sight. Before you could reach out and take a bite of your anticipated meal, Scott’s voice speaks up again. “Be honest, why did you agree to come out here?” He manages to say before grabbing his hamburger and taking a greedy first bite. You shove a couple of fries in your mouth before answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tornados, I find them so interesting and a strange natural occurrence. But from a safe distance, in my lab where I can do research rather than going out in the field.” Your stomach growls at you for not taking a bite of your burger that sits so patiently on the plate. “I totally agree on what you guys are doing, I want to help people too! I just don’t think I was built for wrangling tornados like you. Plus my boss dragged me out here.” You chuckle while biting now at your food. Already feeling better or maybe it was the company of Scott that put you to ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your way out of the Diner you are met with boots taking a long stride towards you and Scott. Those boots belonged to a flannel clad gentleman with a cowboy hat tilted slightly out of his face. He was clearly built and flashes a dashing smile in your direction. You could practically hear Scott rolling his eyes before the guy even got a word out. “Clipboard! I didn’t know they made scientists so pretty nowadays.” The man lowly whistles at your appearance, you quickly caught on to the ‘Clipboard’ nickname he gave Scott. “Get back to your YouTube channel Tyler.” He puffs out while sliding back his sunglasses. The cowboy named Tyler stops in front of you, quickly glancing between the two of you. “What’s your name little lady?” His voice is oddly sweet and not patronizing. You tell him your name and he softly repeats it back with a smile.

“Well then, come find me when you’re done working with a bunch of pencil pushers.” He lowers his sunglasses and sends a wink your way before walking back toward the Diner.

It was so quick you hardly noticed how Scott stopped chewing his gum and clutched down hard on his jaw, teeth slightly grinding. Turning to face Scott again, “Who the hell was that?” Your laugh pulls Scott out of his train of thought. Hearing your soft giggles at the interaction makes him almost forget why he was even frustrated in the first place. “Just one of those Hillbillies with a YouTube channel. He especially likes to throw fireworks for theatrics.” His sigh was heavy as he continued forward back to the Motel and not answering any other questions you had about Tyler.

It wasn’t long before getting back to your room. Scott dropped you off and went back to the rest of the team to discuss the 3D model, he hoped it was long enough to fully process and get a look at the models.

Following the next few hours held up in your Motel room, it wasn’t anything fancy. A small TV that frames the adjacent wall from the bed and a dingy chair and desk, the bathroom was next to them and was brightly lit by yellowed lights. Definitely not dreamy, but this was a company's purchase for the crew so you couldn’t complain.

You slightly jump out of bed when you hear a loud bang from your door. It started storming a little while ago and just thought it was a branch slamming on your door but then you heard another knock. You weren’t going to sleep but put on your pajamas and laid down to doom scroll on your phone. You're fast on your steps as you reach the door and open it slightly to see who was knocking. You were so surprised to see Scott behind the knocking.

“Well welcome back.” You greet as you open the door for him, gesturing for him, “Come in, come in.” You smile at him. You turn to go back to lounging on your bed. While doing so, Scott gets the chance to take on your appearance. A matching set of pajamas that fit your body perfectly, he swallows heavily at the sight. It was possible that he was so pent up from being out in the field for multiple weeks and hadn't been with a woman during that time either, now here you were. So sweet it’s sickening and so pretty sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking up at him with almost doe like eyes. It’s driving him up the wall.

His hands rest on his side while stepping in your room, closing the door behind him. He was slightly damped by the rain and wind outside, he breathed in the air around him. “So what brings you by? Is there another Tornado that needs to be chased?” You ask, slightly anxious to hear his response. He sees your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Oh, no. I just wanted to let you know that the model is up and running. Plus, my room’s power went out.” He explains, in the meanwhile he looks around your room, he also seemed nervous.

You nodded and were about to respond but he cut you off, “And I wanted to check up on you.” He stretches out the “and” like he was contemplating on finishing his sentence. You were pleasantly taken aback. It was nice that he was seeing if you were okay. You were flustered nonetheless and blushed. “Oh mister big and stoic is concerned for me?” You playfully jab at his demeanor, he’s quick to your mocking behavior. Again he slides off his sunglasses and places them in his shirt pocket, he hangs his head down and laughs. “Alright I’m going to go now then.” He teases back, there’s a small panic behind your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave.

“No- I mean you can hangout for a while if you want. I’m not doing much. You can wait here till your room gets power again.” It sounded just as pathetic in your head as it came out of your mouth, desperate to get more time for him. He caught on to it, “Yeah?” A small smirk crept on his lips. His figure coming closer to you, his large frame tower over you. It did something to you, “Yeah.” Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, causing you to swallow down hard.

He was taking so much space, almost suffocating. “Tell me, were you checking me out when we first met?” He was testing the waters, what kind of response were you going to give him. Either it would be welcoming or dismissive, but the way blush started creeping up your neck to your cheeks he could tell. “What? No, I mean- no. Why are you asking?” You clearly flustered at his question and lied right through your teeth and it was so obvious. “Okay.” He bites down on his gum and smiles down at you. He quickly sits next to you and faces the TV. Ignoring what just happened between the two of you, riling you up in the process.

Ignoring the building tension, “What are we watching?” He nonchalantly asks, his gum smacking in his mouth. A smug look plastered on his face watching you try to regain your composure. Skipping over his previous statements. “Um… T- The news about the weather tomorrow.” You blink. He then reaches up and takes off his baseball cap, his hair ruffles out in some crazy hat hair before he shakes it out with his other hand. His brown hair flows softly down. It’s then you take in his scent, slight sweat lingers but you can smell his cologne, it smelt like an ocean side with a hint of sandal wood. It fit him perfectly and drank up the scent to fill your senses. This man was something. His cocky attitude, his demanding presence, oddly quiet demeanor. Everything about him was causing your brain to lag. His clothes cling slightly to his body due to them dampening from the outside weather.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to the television ahead of you, you really did. But with Scott next to you, the storm outside, y’all’s conversation. It was too much for you to handle. His white button down was a bit dirty from the chase earlier from today and now cling wrapped around his arms, chest, thighs. Your mouth watering again while you ogle the man before you, it was wrong, so wrong. Hell you were technically his superior as he worked for your company, but right now it felt like he held all the power.

Then boom. A loud bang crashed against the ceiling, the storm getting heavier. It spooked you enough to jump beside you, trying to find some sort of comfort and gladly Scott gave you that. His rather large hands are quick to rest on your shoulder, sliding up and down to ease your concerns, “You’re alright, it’s just the wind. Nothings gonna’ hurt you.” He shushes in a low tone which calms you down. Though his clothes are wet and cold, his body is hot. Feeling how warm he was as you pressed deeper to his touch.

Your eyes shift from being closed to looking up at his, then glancing down to his lips. He mirrors you, both of you leaning in closer. "We shouldn't." You aimlessly try to guide yourself back into reality but your body caves. His lips ghost over yours, “Can I kiss you?” He softly asks for permission, his whole body aching waiting for your response, but didn’t have to wait any longer as you pressed your lip to his. His other hand reaches for your face, cupping the back of your neck while his other latches to your waist. Practically pulling you on top of him. You gripped his collar to stabilize yourself and followed his direction.

He pulled you on his lap, finding it comfortable. Your hands continue to grasp on to get some leverage but find it futile in the long run. The kiss begins to become heated by the seconds, occasionally breaking it to pant out quick breaths. He was taking over all your senses. Making it hard to focus on anything but him.

Scotts lips leave yours and make their way down to your neck. His attention to make you feel more than comfortable was overpowering. Your hands have a mind of their own, snaking up to his head and gently pulling his hair. Your eyes screwed shut, he watches your reactions - to see what causes the most pleasure. His hand moves around your body, around your hips and butt, around your chest groping your boobs. That seems to get some whimpering out of your lips. "You're so pretty like this." He tells in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your legs squirm around his, trying your hardest to find some pressure to grind down on. Your head rushes with blood, finding it hard to wrap your head around pleasure. "I mean you're pretty regardless, but fuck." He groans through his teeth.

You moan into his mouth as he captures your lips for another kiss.

“Be honest with me again.” You nod, slightly still ditzy after that heated kiss. “Were you staring at my arms earlier?” There’s a slight teasing tone- actually, more like a cocky tone. He was still on about this. You nod your head a little sheepishly, having to admit it made it feel shameless. “I knew it! You were checking me out! Thought I caught you, but I wasn't sure I was making things up in my head.” He barks out a quick laugh and continues to kiss up your neck, drawing more airy moans and some giggles.

“What, no smart-ass response huh?” He teases. And he was right, you couldn't think of any kind of response, your mind is fogged up. Mewing out was the only response as he found the spot on your neck. He continues to work you up, all while dry humping him, your pajama shorts riding up in the process. His clad trousers gave the perfect mount. His growing erection being more prominent and pressed tight in his boxers and pants, now with you moaning in his ear and grinding on him shamelessly.

You did try your best to quiet down, even with the storm outside these walls were thin and god forbid if any of you teammates heard what noises were coming from in your room, there would be no question what was happening between the two of you. But his hands and mouth on you made you uncontrollable. He thought quickly to fix this predicament. "Shush, baby, no more whining. Here - here" He coos, moving one of his hands and sticks his index and middle finger in your mouth. Shutting you and your withering moans up. Your mouth drooling over his digits. Your eyes are half glazed over, if you had the consciousness to see what you looked like you’d be ashamed how easily you were subdued. Falling under some sort of submissive headspace. It was so quick you hardly noticed it happened, but maybe you wanted this for a while now. Especially after the rough and exhausting day you had, you just wanted someone to take the reins in for you.

And now the pet name, you wanted to hear him call out for you with that every time from now on. "Look at you, such a desperate thing you are, huh? Isn’t that right baby.” You nod aimlessly, his fingers pressing down on your tongue. You were putty in his large hands, not that you were complaining. Your hands fumble with his shirt's buttons, at a sad attempt to take it off yourself. He thought of mocking you once again for this poor attempt but chose to lend a helping hand. Assisting with the majority of buttons you and him manage to take off his uniform top, catching a look of his chest you moaned again. He was cut with a light amount of chest hair, your sounds muffled with his fingers. It was hard to calm yourself, you were like a dog in heat, nothing was quite satisfying your needs yet. You needed more - more of him. "Fuck'n hell. You are just so needy." His hair crazed by your frantic hands, lips were bright pink, and eyes half lidded. Talk about needy, he wanted you with the same amount of passion.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a groan of frustration comes out of your mouth. “Please, please, please.” You aimlessly beg. For what? You and him knew, for him to finally fuck you rather than all his teasing. But Scott needed you to verbally admit it to him. “Huh? What do you need? Spit it out.” Again the condescending tone loud and clear, he does this to rile you up. For knowing him for such a little amount of time, he knew how to press all the right buttons. "Please, I need you." you mutter in his ear while closing your eyes and pressing your head between his shoulder that meets his neck. It was more like a whimper than begging but the overloading sensations were driving you in a haze. Still humping his leg, it was quite a sight that even left Scott to groan. But he can’t let you off that easily, that would be too nice. He kicks off his shoes and socks, preparing for the inevitable.

"By “I need you”, that really means that you want me to fuck you.” Taunting you even further, you squirm under his grasp at the boldness his words were. You nod your head, knowing your voice would betray you.

He acknowledges your approval and lays you backwards towards the bed. Your head close to the edge and him by the pillows, he rests on his knees. His body still covered most of your space, he was just so big. "First we're going to take off this little matching set." His voice sounds airy, your legs spread open to invite him to get even closer to your body which he gladly scoots in. His hands reach for the hem of your top and pull it flush off your body. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting your hot body. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you were quick to discover that Scott leaned down to give each of them a kiss. His hot tongue swiftly swirled around your left one, but he didn't stay long as he gave the same treatment to your right. You watch him, his eyes never leaving your sight.

His lips travel down your sternum to reach your belly, he peppers kisses along the way, all while giving you short praises. All of his words make you pant.

Reaching your matching shorts, he slips both hands up your thighs and grabs the hem to pull the shorts off of you. Once off, you were left only in your panties. A small spot clearly dampened in the center, it would be embarrassing to you normally but you were so aroused. He practically moans at seeing it. Knowing he worked for you enough. He continues to scoot back so he could comfortably lay his head on your thighs. He takes in your scent, fingers loop and starts pulling your panties off. You throw your head back from the anticipation, then a sharp swat on your inner thigh makes you pop your eyes down back at him. "Eyes on me, you better watch me eat you out." The tone being similar to the voice he had in the truck when he calmed you down, it was assertive and demanding.

You clench down on nothing and start to squirm, he rubs the spot he smacked and gives you a soft kiss, it felt like an apology. He breaks his gaze and looks at your cunt. It makes you a little nervous at first, closing your legs at first, but he tells you off. "What? You're shy now?" He tisks, looking back up at you. Almost like a warning. "You were just begging for me to fuck you." His words made you gush, you could feel how hot your cheeks were burning. Your voice squeaks, "I'm sorry." This apology makes him stop, "It been a while since she's gotten some attention huh baby?" He questions but already knows the answer, yes it has been a while. Referring to your pussy as "she". You nod as an answer.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take care of her and you." That cocky attitude shines bright while he begins his work. His lips kissing the skin around your desperate cunt. Some dragged out moans are flying past your lips, it really had been a long time since being with another person, especially someone who knew how to get you this excited.

Unwarranted your hips buck at his face, your body was fed up by all this teasing. His hands pin down your thighs, stopping you from future bucking.

Those pink soft lips finally make contact with your most sensitive part of your body, causing you to yelp. He found this adorable, already moaning. It was blissful, he knew what he was doing. Circling his tongue. Now and then flickering down to your cunt, your hips try to wiggle but his strong grip holds you down at his mercy.

Your hands go from covering your mouth so you didn't tell from the pleasure, to the comforter, to his hair to pull him closer. You continue to stare down at Scott as he does his work, trying your best to not thrash your head back and groan. But by keeping your eyes open you can see him grind down on the bed, he was getting off from eating your pussy. And rightfully so in his opinion, you tasted amazing, if he could he would keep you here for an eternity without any complaint.

While tongue fucking your hole, his nose brushes against your clit. Sending shock waves throughout your body, making you a moaning mess. Chanting his name with pleas and curse words. A tightness builds in the pit of your stomach, your thighs close his head between them. Keeping him in this position. Your back to begging, babbling out slurred sentences barely coherent with moans breaking mid way through and you losing your train of thought.

It was almost amusing to see you this unwired, usually you were a very punctual person. Now here you were cumming all over a man's face that you met less than 24 hours ago. A man you only know his first name, but Scott was something over worldly. Your voice pinches in a high note as your climax racks through your entire nerve system. Screwing your eyes tightly, blinding white light flooding your vision.

Hell, he almost came in his boxers watching you cum. Watching tornadoes for a living was thrilling but seeing you come undone with just his tongue was 10 times more exciting for him. Now he needs to see you cum again but this time in his dick.

Fluttering your eyes open to your own personal show, Scott lifted back and sat up right. He's focused on unzipping his pants unaware that you lifted yourself on your elbows to watch. Once he spots you, he pulls out his wallet from his pants and takes out a condom that was tucked in a sleeve. 'How cliché' you think. One hand pulls down his pants and boxer while the other rips open the condom wrapper. A simple act being so seductive when he did it.

Your eyes could contain themselves from peaking down at his dick. The tip was hot pink, pebbling pre-cum down his shaft. He was a big boy. You were practically salivating at the sight, he almost laughs at your drooling. He rolls the condom on swiftly. "How do you want to do this?" His voice piercing your ears, looking back at his blue eyes. You were puzzled at the question, he simplifies for you. "What position?" He states it obvious, but not rude.

Without a second thought, "Can I ride you?" He groans loudly at your words. But regains his composers, "Of course you can baby." He smiles, his gum still smacking against his teeth. You had completely forgotten he was even still chewing gum. He lay down on the pillows beneath him. His teasing manner doesn't affect you as much, you were determined to give him a good show. Meanwhile you crawl your way between his legs and settle to ride this tornado wrangler.

His chest heaves, he was so much larger than you. Your legs just about wrap beside his hips as you position yourself. Bending over his tall torso you plant a kiss on his jaw, leading to his lips. He kisses you with a passion similar to a fire, your hands drop to his chest to steady yourself. Pulling away and reaching below you.

A sharp hiss slips past his closed teeth, your hand wrapping itself around him. Your hands were soft, unlike his, the feeling being unfamiliar to him. You found pleasure from watching his face scrunch up. Lining yourself and making your way down. His large hands grip on your waist at the contact.

A choked moaning rips through your throat. Fuck it had been a while since you had a dick up in there and the stretch was unwelcoming with a full sense of pleasure. "That's it." He groans while his head is pressed down on the pillow.”Holy shit baby! You are squeezing the shit out of me.” A mixture of a chuckle and moaning follows behind his words. "Relax baby, let me in." He breathes heavily, lifting his head up. Scott's hands grip harder on the small fat on your hips. Stilling your moving till you start relaxing your muscles.

“I know, I know. Just a little more baby, c’mon you’re a big girl." His voice is hoarse. You could have come from that voice alone. You slow your movements, focusing on your breathing and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once your body's are flushed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You couldn't make a noise. Now was his opportunity to be a moaning mess. The way your cunt swallowed his cock was velvet, you were causing so much pleasure, he was almost lost of words. Almost.

"You better ride baby." It almost sounds like a threat. His unwavering pissy personality showed true and you couldn't say no, you did as you were told.

Lifting yourself up and letting gravity do the rest of the work. You started slow at first. You were still adjusting to his size, he was heavy in your cunt.

That slow pace was short-lived as Scott's hands dragged you back and forth. His grip was bruising, his jaw clenching down while watching how his cock is meeting together with your pussy. You looked quite spectacular from his laid position, your palms flat to his stomach, your tits bouncing up and down with you. The faces you make, filled with nothing but unadulterated bliss.

He's held on for the best he can, letting you get a couple of minutes for you to be doing mostly all of the hard work. But his knees bend behind you and he lifts you slightly above his hip. Then he begins his own rhythm to fuck into you, thrusting his hips and greedily taking you. Not that you were complaining. The air is knocked out of your lungs, ending up at a silent groan, helping with your noise control.

The incessant, slapping noise of him rutting in your cunt was loud. Though you tried to contain yourself, it was impossible that the rooms parallel to each side of you didn't know what was happening. The small room is filled with flesh meeting, heavy breathing, groans and moans. "Feels fuckin fantastic, you love this big dick in your little pussy." He can't help but voice his thoughts, unwavering. You wordlessly nod as he continues, "Huh baby? Fuck'n shit. This pussy is going to be the death of me!" He rolls his head back, stalling his thrust momentarily. Soaking in the way your cunt squeezes him.

Gaining more air to your lungs you can finally moan out his name, sounds like the angels from above calling out to him. if he could hear his name come out of your mouth continuously then it might just be heaven.

Again that tightness is winding up quickly. Even more intense than your last orgasm. Trying to shut you up now was going to be an impossible hop to leap through, yet at this point both you and Scott were so focused on each other and blocking the outside world, you could care less when your combined moans.

As your own orgasm was approaching, you could tell Scott's wasn't that far behind as you. His movements become irregular and his knees start to buckle from losing momentum.

It was all a blur when your second orgasm ripped through your whole body. You collapse on the 6'4ft man, your whole body shakes above him. Your head spins, it feels as if you were drunk. Definitely drunk on his cock.

When you come to, he is lifting you back to the side for him to pull out. His condom partially filled with his semen, he knots it before discarding it in the small waste bin by your night stand. The storm outside still roars loudly, you're glad you're stuck in your motel room with him.

He lays back down on your bed, "I think I just died a few seconds ago, I've come back to life." Scott exclaims, his pupils expanded to almost cover the blue hue, rather they were almost black. He really was coming down from such a high.

Shallow breathing through your nose before turning to face Scott. His face looks so fucked out, no doubt you look the same. His hair is wild and there are faint lipstick marks on his face and neck caused by you. "I haven't came that hard in months." You were still breathless from what he had done to you. "I can say the same." Dry and quick laughs come from both of you. “You made me swallow my gum.” You still try to compose yourself.

Both of you lay down under the covers of the Motels comforter. Lazily turning your head in his direction, you could easily fall asleep in his arms right now. He holds you close, his body warm surrounding you in a comfortable state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stay the night?" You ask, similar to a plea. And how could Scott say no to that face? That was short lived, "I need a big strong man to protect me from the storm." He watches you giggle, amused by your own joke. It was laced with faux concern. "Only because your room has power." He pokes fun back. You were giggling at his joke.

Your laughter comes to a halt when the lights above you and TV shut of. f all of a sudden, causing you to jump back into Scott's arms. He's once again amused, "You know you're really jumpy for a tornado lab scientist." He quips back. You try to act hurt by his comments in hopes of retracting his statement for an appraisal instead, but he saw right through your act and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

You stayed together until the morning.

[windybluebelles]

I cling to Marvel being eight foot tall more than I cling to my own real life morals. Let him be a freak guys please it’s so funny.

My idea of Captain Marvel is that he looks like C.C Batson- Duh -but in the way that Billy remembers him.

Obviously his fully human father wasn’t nearly nine feet tall and built like a truck, but when your four years old and three feet tall, your going to think that he is. Most toddlers believe that their parents are the best people in the world so of course Billy as Captain Marvel is going to look perfect. I also just fully believe that you can’t take photographs of him, camera just fully blurs his figure till all you can see is the lightning bolt, every picture drawn of him is always incorrect. Even the best painters manage to land in a weird uncanny valley with him.

Anyone who knew C.C Batson is probably long dead or just has to put up with the fact that there’s this guy wearing a wrong copy of their friends face. Sucks to be them ig

I also prefer it when the rest of the Shazamily look like kids, slightly aged up from their normal selves but still young. They all still have this weird perfectness to them that makes them not quite recognisable and they are all at like peak physical condition.

Also they’re all like 6-7 foot tall.

Just monsterously oversized teenagers. Fully proportionate, weirdly muscular, gigantic teenagers.

Gotta love em!

[soobiary]

a/n; hii this is the first thing i have published 🙏 also im planning on making this a series, its a hyunsu x reader 🫶 please comment and reblog if you enjoyed it, tell me if it sucks not and if u want the next part, okay?

bewitched - cha hyunsu x reader ☆

it was cold.

goosebumps spread throughout your body as you jolts awake, wincing at the cold stone pressed upon your body. your mind was a blur, how did you get here? you bring your hands into your sight as you look at them wide eyed.

is this real life?

cuts were littered onto your body, how and when did they get there? you have no idea.

"what are you doing?! get up!"

a male voice yelled out to you. you put your hands by your side, finally taking in your surroundings. there was rubble everywhere, and it was like a building had collapsed. a sign that read "green home mansion apartments" stood there, covered in weeds and moss.

wait. green home apartments..?

"hey! can you hear me? are you trying to die?"

the man runs up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you up. your mind seemed absent, and you felt like you were missing something but you didn't know what.

you let out a gasp as you are pulled away by the tall man. you eyed his army green uniform, a soldier?

"miss! can you hear me? how long have you been here for? we need to get you some help."

the soldier placed you down into a truck, shaking your shoulders slightly as he spoke.

"n-no...i don't remember."

you shake your head slightly, trying to clear your confusion.

"who are you? whats happening?"

you feel overwhelmed and confused, and the fog in your mind is making it difficult to process what's going on. you look over at the soldier, hoping that he can provide some answers to your questions.

the soldier glances over at you, his expression empathetic.

"look miss, we need to get you to help. you're hurt and you seem dazed from what happened back there."

you look away and furrow your brows, as if you are thinking very hard to answer his question.

"do you have any idea of who you are or how you ended up in this mess? did you lose your memory?"

you look away, not wanting to face his questions. you feel overwhelmed and confused, and you sense that he is growing impatient with your silence.

you look back, examining his appearance. hes wearing a army green uniform, and he has a name tag on his chest that reads;

park chan-young.

"we can talk about this later then, when your mind clears up. for now, stay in the back seat. dont do anything crazy, alright?"

you nod in agreement, wanting to respect the soldiers authority. you take a seat in the back of the truck. you keep your gaze out the window as the ride progresses. the enviroment looks darker and colder than what you remember, which is unusual.

"excuse me sir. im sorry if i sound dumb by asking this..but whats going on..? where is everyone?"

you turn your gaze to the soldier sitting in the front seat. he glances in the mirror to look at you.

"you really don't know? the powers out, and theres monsters everywhere. no one knows who or what caused it."

"monsters... are you serious?"

your mind feels even more cloudier and confused as you try to process this new information. you began to consider whether the soldier might be making some kind of joke, or if he actually believes that there are monsters outside. you look out the window again, still noticing how dark it is outside.

"you're not making this up, are you?"

you ask slowly, still hoping the soldier will confirm your suspicions that he's not being serious.

The soldier looks back at you with an exasperated expression.

"miss, trust me, I wish I was making this up, but it's real. we don't have time to waste, we need to keep you and everyone else out of danger."

as he speaks, you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, as it dawns on you that the soldier might be telling the truth. but you're still not sure how to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"if there really are monsters out there... what do they look like?" you ask cautiously him.

the soldier takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"they come in all shapes and sizes, we can't really pin it down," he says with a grim expression.

"some are animal-like, some are human-like, and some are straight out of nightmares. you've got to trust me when I say you don't want to find out what they look like."

you are about to respond when suddenly a loud bang is heard from outside of the truck. the soldier glances out the windshield, a look of concern on his face.

"miss, i need you to stay quiet" he whispers urgently.

you sit in stillness, holding your breath, and you can hear the soldier pull out his weapon and cock it.

"get ready," he mouths silently.

you feel the truck come to a sudden stop, and as you look out the windshield, you notice that a group of monsters are surrounding the vehicle. the soldier raises his gun and fires at the monsters, as they start to lunge towards the truck.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Just What I Needed - Jake Seresin x Reader

a/n: here's the part two to Got My Mind Set On You, as requested by @mamachasesmayhem 🤍 this can also be read as a standalone fic!

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

warnings/content: literally smut with no plot. p in v, fingering, praise kink, calling Jake by his rank.

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @dempy @b-bradshaw @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

The car ride home from the bar had been quiet, Jake’s hand resting firmly on your thigh the whole way, his fingers grazing the inside of your thigh just enough to make you sweat. You felt a fire beginning to brew in your core in anticipation - you knew exactly what this meant. From the moment you started teasing him in front of his friends, using his attraction to you to make him lose his game, you knew what you were doing. 

Jake pulled into the driveway, pulling his hand away from your flesh as he killed the engine. He got out of the truck, and for a split second, you almost wondered if he was mad at you - you knew it was all an act though. He opened the passenger side door for you, grinning as he offered his hand out to help you down. Instead of helping you graciously to your feet, however, Jake pulled you in as close as physically possible, your back arching against the arm he’d wrapped around you for stability. He gave you a passionate kiss, the kind that left you breathless, gasping for air but all the while, desperate and hungry for more. 

He let go of your frame, your light-headedness from the kiss making you feel unsteady on your feet for a moment. As you regained your balance, you began heading for the door, Jake’s hand delivering a playful, yet firm tap to your ass as you headed up the steps. You squealed in delight at his touch, prompting him to do it again.

You giggled as you kicked off your shoes at the door, secretly thanking yourself for deciding on platforms at the last minute, making it easy to ditch them as fast as you could. Jake’s tall, muscular frame pressed into you, backing you up against the wall of the hallway. His hands wandered up and down your sides as his mouth found yours, locking you in with a passionate kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth, grazing the sensitive skin ever so slightly. 

You moaned into his kiss as his hands reached up for your chest. He grasped at your breasts, squeezing them firmly as his large hands cupped them over your shirt. He grunted as he kissed you hungrily, lips trailing down your jaw. A mess of hot, sloppy kisses made their way to your collarbone as Jake continued to knead your breasts with his hands. His mouth peppered the tops of your exposed breast with more hungry, open-mouthed kisses, each one feeling a little more desperate than before. Jake’s actions made it clear - he needed you. He craved you. 

His mouth trailed its way back to your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin as he spoke in a husky whisper. 

“Fuck, sugar, I can’t get enough of you,” he rasped as his hands made their way to your hips, gripping them tightly as he held them against his own. 

Jake got down on his knees, grinning up at you before roughly shoving your skirt out of his way. He positioned himself between your legs, his tongue licking a painfully slow, sensual strip up your wet folds, collecting the arousal that had begun to gather there. He hummed his lips against you, sending a shockwave through your body as you felt his mouth vibrate on you. A loud whine escaped your parted lips as you placed your palm flat against the table beside you to steady yourself.

“Fuck, Jake!” you cried out as he drew soft circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

“Tastes so fuckin’ good, hun,” he mumbled against your skin before pressing his lips to your clit, sucking at the sensitive nub before pulling away, panting. “So fucking good.”

You could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your skin as he spoke. Your mind raced as he pressed two of his thick, long fingers into your dripping hole, thrusting them into your g-spot with precision and skill. You cried out his name again in the midst of a flurry of moans and curse words, unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure building within you. 

You felt your thighs begin to tremble and shake as you drew closer to your orgasm, a sign that Jake had picked up on as well. You could feel him smirking against you again for a brief second before he began fucking his fingers into you harder, faster. His lips made contact with your clit again, alternating between hard, powerful sucking and slow, gentle tracing with his tongue. 

“Shit, Jake, fuck,” you managed to get out before you felt your walls clench around his fingers tightly.

“That’s it, you pretty little thing. That’s my girl,” Jake purred as he continued to pump his fingers into your core. 

He pulled them out of you, leaving your arousal dripping from you. You looked down as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with his mouth before pulling them out with a loud pop. He grinned up at your flushed face, a sense of pride in his eyes as he claimed responsibility for the mess he’d made of you.

He stood to his feet, broad hands fiddling with the belt buckle on his jeans while you tried to pull yourself together as best as you could. His belt hit the floor, the sound of the metal buckle clattering against the hardwood echoing through out the house. Jake shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, kicking them off in a desperate frenzy. He stroked his hardened length, a bead of precum forming at the tip. You smirked at him, swiping the white pearl off the head with your thumb before wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking it with just enough pressure. 

Jake grunted and pushed your body against the wall, causing you to let go of him. He roughly grabbed at your thighs, cupping your ass in his hands as he lifted you up, back firmly pressed to the wall. Jake pushed his tip past your swollen folds, groaning as he felt your pussy stretching around him.

“That’s m’girl, making room for me t’fit, huh?” he drawled, refusing to move his hips until you responded. “So tight, honey girl, you feel so fuckin’ good on me.” 

“Jake, please,” you whimpered desperately, hopelessly trying to grind your hips against him to urge him to start thrusting.

“Mhmm? Can’t hear ya, pretty girl. Speak up,” He teased as he pulled himself out of you slowly, leaving just the tip inside of your pulsing cunt. 

“Please, Lieutenant Seresin,” you whined. 

“That’s better, atta girl,” Jake praised as he thrust his hips forward, his cock pounding into you. 

He began to fuck you rhythmically, his hips moving faster and harder, thrusting deeper each time into you. Your walls began to tighten and clench around him, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as you gripped him tightly, screaming his name out. Jake let out a deep growl as he pumped into you, a sign you knew meant that he was getting close. The usually mouthy pilot could easily be reduced to nothing but a grunting, babbling, pussy-drunk mess. 

“Fuck, you feel like fucking heaven, feel so fucking good,” he rambled, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as he came inside of you. 

Breathlessly, he pressed one of his palms flat against the wall as you set your shaking legs back down on the floor. His olive coloured eyes blinked twice, trying to pull himself together. Jake reached a hand up, wiping the sweat beads from his brow before raking his fingers over his flushed, rosy face. He looked at you, a glazed expression in his eyes as he admired you. 

“That’s my girl,” he said calmly, smiling blissfully as he put a hand on your cheek. He lovingly stroked his fingers across your flushed, warm skin before leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“That’s my girl.”

[karshown]

[ papamin ] I wish that woman wouldn't stress me the way she does. // f!reader x kento. //

Oh the way Nanami kento would spend every penny, every dime left in his deep pockets just to see your eyes flicker with joy.

You were the only woman

that he allowed close.

YOU and your husband were out shopping, Kenji or as you called him, Ji-ji accompanied as he sucked his chubby thumb as if his life depended on it. Few people shot you and Kento various glances, some even went to the extreme by raising their eyebrows.

It was a shock to see him, with a woman like you. To your friends you two were a perfect match, you were classy but kento was beyond that, elegant but even beyond elegant. Maybe it was the fact that you a brown skinned woman with shape, walked alongside a man with lightly tanned skin and on top of that, he had a perfectly tall muscular figure.

You two were wearing completely different clothes at that, you decided to go simple today, as you threw on a tight, long black dress, with long sleeves to add on, it had a pretty perfect fit on you. Nanami naturally didn't settle for whatever 'normal' was to you, he always had to go out of his way with every outfit, he did it without realizing. He wore a black suit that matched your dress, and his usual watch, almost as if he had a major event to attend to but in all honesty he didn't.

You loved how he never settled for the normal things.

You scoffed, Kento shot you a glance as he barely paid any attention to anyone besides you & Ji-ji. His grip around your smaller hand tightened, as he snuck his fingers between yours, you held Ji-ji on your hip. One colorful shop caught your eye, as you and Nanami came to a stop right in front of it.

“This one?” Nanami observed the bright rainbow colors, especially the ones that stood out, the ones that reminded him of you which encouraged him to follow through with your idea. Before stepping in, you handed Ji-ji to Nanami for the time being just so you didn't get too distracted, Ji-ji was in a dying need of new clothes (he already had over 50+ sets but thats not the point.)

YOU found 10 new sets only minutes after stepping into the shop, everything was well put together so it was simple to find everything needed. Until you overheard the light laugh of a young woman, still around your age though, but that wasn't what bothered youーit was your husbands voice, too.

"Wheres his mother? or are you not married."

"Actually I-"

"Its fine, its not a shocker that you aren't married, thats how some women are nowadays, sadly." the worker whos name tag read 'Stepphie,' plastered a clearly fake pout on her face, as she put more clothes out onto the racks.

"Baby, whats going on?" you showcased your anger & jealousy in different ways, and just to be petty you had to rub it in her face, you lightly brushed your lips on Nanamis cheek, as he snaked his hand around your curvy waist.

"This is my lady, Y/N, also known asーmy beautiful wife."

You shot the woman an evil glance, as she stood there dumbfounded.

"If you allowed him to finish his sentence earlier, then you would know that hon." You lightly tapped her shoulder as she flushed pink to red, naturally embarrassed.

"M'sorry." she quickly turned away, finding other racks that needed a restock to easily distract herself.

Moments later, you three checked out.

"You couldn't tell she was flirting with you?"

"Honestly, no."

That didn't really surprise you, since it took you a good year to get Nanami to realize you grew fond of him, for 12 full months he didn't catch a single hint until the new years party, which even then it took one of your friends to accidentally blurt out the fact that you had a kiddie crush on Kento.

You placed the last bag down, aligning it with every other bag in the truck just because you're a slight perfectionist.

"I'll take your word for it, next time im not letting it slide."

"There wont be a next time, mylady."

"Thats even better," You shut the trunk closed as it clicked, Ji-ji was already in his car-seat & buckled in which left you with nothing else to do except getting home. You turned around to lightly kiss Nanami as his moisturized hand rested aside your lower back once more, deepening the kiss that was originally supposed to be light & short, which turned into long and passionate.

pt #2 ,, summary ー

y/n mysteriously finds herself getting sick, in to which nanami takes care of her, trying to slowly aid her back to being her normal healthy self.

--------------> read here !! -- half of what i planned for new years special 📰 '

// now as always, reblogs, notes, etc are always appreciated ,, //

[sarah-bear706318]

Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter:2

Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

@nikkicloudie

If you wanna be tagged in future parts let me know!

The next morning you are awaken with banging on the door, seeing as you are not a morning person this was not the wake up call you wanted. "Tyler get the fucking door" you say still half asleep.

BANG BANG BANG

"Tyler get the damn door " you yell again to your brother turning over to see his bed empty. You groan while you get out of bed and stumble to answer the door, when you answer it you see your brother ready for the day with a big smile on his face. Your face not so friendly.

"Sorry I forgot the key, but I come with coffee" he says with a beaming smile trying to make you less mad, he knows how much you hate mornings so he's hoping the coffee will stop you from yelling to much. "You know instead of banging on the door like the swat team there are these things called phones you could have called loser" you say letting him in the room.

"Yeah I forgot that too" he says putting the coffees down on the table in between the beds. "Whatcha get me" you ask reaching for the coffee. He rolls his eyes knowing how picky you are about your coffee "Just what you like and how you like it an Iced Caramel Macchiato 2 pumps extra caramel made with almond milk extra cold foam and carmel drizzle" he says

"You are the best big brother all is forgiven as long as this coffee taste right" you say taking your first sip to check it. "You are so forgiven this coffee is better then sex" you say closing your eyes at the taste. "That is not something I never want to hear you ever again" your brother says.

You roll your eyes taking another sip of your coffee and picking up your phone to look at the time seeing that its a little before 7. "What time are we heading out?" you ask your brother. "I told the crew to meet us at the diner next door around 8 figure we can have some breakfast and make plan for the day. I also have something to talk to the crew about. You think you can be ready to go by then?" "Yeah I'll be ready by 7:55" you say with a smile while still sipping on your coffee.

True to your word you were ready to head out the door at 7:55. You knew this would be your first time on the Wranglers Youtube channel so you wanted to look cute, and you were hoping to see the tall cute guy from last night. You opped for a cute messy bun and light make up with one of your many UT Austin longhorn shirts and some shorts. You grab your bag and phone and head out with your brother to meet the crew.

As you're walking down stairs you see the cute tall guy with the ballcap from last night, and you cant help but smile.

Scotts POV:

Scott and Javi are standing by StormPar's truck when they see Y/N and Tyler making their way down. Scott feels the breath from his lungs get sucked out and his heart stop. "Hey Owens" Javi says as soon as the 2 of them get within speaking distance. As Y/N get closer Scott get his first up close view of her and all he can think of is how drop dead gorgeous she is.

He can see the freckles on her nose and cheek, the dimples when she smile, her pink full lips(man all he can think about how they would feel against his own lips) her bright green eyes. He can see the little nose ring along with a couple piercings in her ears and the tattoos she has on her legs and arms . He's not normally a guy that goes for girls with piercing and tattoos but she pull them off very well and looks classy not trashy. He catches himself wondering what other tattoos and piercings she may have that he can't see.

"Hey Javi and clipboard" Tyler says to the 2 men with a nod of his head. Scott rolls his eyes at the nickname and before he can say anything Y/n starts to speak "Tyler that was so rude" she says and smack her brother. His smile gets even bigger hearing her voice and the southern twang it has to it and also putting her brother in his place.

"Hey sorry about my rude ass brother I'm Y/n its nice to meet you" she holds her hand out to him "I'm Scott nice to meet you Y/n". Scott shakes her hand and he swears he feels electricity go through his body, and he sees a blush forming on her cheeks. You both held each other's gaze until Javi cleared his throat

"Hey Dr. Owens nice to see you again" he sees Y/n playfully roll her eyes at the formal title "Nice to see you too Javi but you do not have to call me Dr. How have you been" she asked while giving Javi a quick hug, Scott cant help but feel a twinge of jealously run through his body watching Javi wrap her in a hug.

"I've been good, its great that you're going to be here for the next few months, looking to be a great season and having someone with a PhD in the field will really come in handy for us" Javi says

"Us? Scott and Y/n say at the same time. Scott looks to Javi while Y/n looks to her brother both with a confused face.

"Yeah that's what I wanted to to talk to the crew about over breakfast" Tyler says looking between his sister and Scott. "While I was getiing your very very complicated coffee order" Tyler starts but is cut off by you, "Its really not complicated but go on" Y/n says to her brother "It really is but anyways Javi and I ran into to each other and started talking about how all the radars and data are giving reading of this being a very big season and maybe teaming up for some chases might be a help to both teams" Tyler says looking at his sister.

"First I've heard of it" Scott looks to Javi who puts in his hands in the air and says "It was just an idea and I was going to talk to you and run it by you this morning, so what do you think, Y/n is hella smart" Scott looks a tad annoyed by not being included in the first place but if he works with the wranglers that means he can spend more time with Y/n. Scott looks over to Tyler and his sister.

"So you have your doctorate in meteorology?" Scotts turns and ask Y/N

"Yeah I graduated from UT Austin just a couple months ago, I also studied a environmental science for a few semesters"

Scott stands there for another moment thinking. Working with Tyler and his crew was not something he wanted to do, they were reckless loud and got on his last nerve, but having someone with your educational background could be a big help. And getting to get to know you better would make it alot worth it.

"Fine but don't make me regret this either of you" Scott says looking at both Javi and Tyler Pointing his finger at them. When Scott looks over to Y/n he sees her are already looking at him with a smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

"Great I'll go talk to my crew and I'll let you know what they say" Tyler says has he reaches to shakes Javis hand then Scott's.

"It was nice to meet you Scott hopefully the crew is okay with everything and we'll be seeing a lot more of each other" Y/n says with a smile reaching to shake his hand again

"Yeah lets hope" Scott says with a smile reaching for her hand.

As Tyler and Y/n walk away Scotts eyes follow her. As much as he hated the idea of working with Tyler and his group of misfits he hoped the rest of the hillbillies would be on board he really wanted to spend more time with Y/n.

"Man don't even think about it" Scott hears Javi behind him.

"Don't think about what" Scott ask trying to act normal, while still looking your way

"Owens is very protective of his baby sister and he would kill you for even thinking about her"

Scott didn't reply he just kept his eyes on you watching away and heading across the parking lot to the diner. He could handle Owens.

Y/N POV:

As You and brother walk away and to the dinner your mind and body is filled with excitement, hopefully the crew would be ok with everything and you could spend more time with Scott.

Seeing Scott up close made your insides like jello. His tall muscular build, his blue eyes, dark hair, his chiseled jawline, his beautiful smile with the cutest dimples his deep voice, and man did he have arms for days. All you can think about about is how good they would feel wrapped around you and his lips on yours...

Tyler sees the small smile and a dopey look in your eyes and he doesn't like it. Scott of all people has caught his baby sisters eye and from what he could see she has caught his eye too.

"No" is all you hear as your brothers voice breaks you from your day dream. You look over to your brother and see him with a stern look on his face.

"What are you talking about Ty"

"I saw the looks you and clipboard were giving each other and its not happening not with him"

You came to a stop and looking to your brother. One thing about you is you don't take took kindly with people telling you want you can and can not do. You are a grown ass woman and could do as you please.

"Well Tyler last I checked I am a grown woman and do what I want, see who I want and make my own choices, now I'm hungry so stop playing big brother and hurry up" you say staring down your brother.

"I mean it Y/n no not him not happening"

"I mean it to I'm hungry hurry your ass"

Tyler rolls his eyes and points his finger at you "This isn't over" "Whatever" you say walking past him to go meet the crew and get some food.

As you make it to the diner you turn to look over your shoulder and see Scott looking at you, he shoots a wink and smile and walks to the other side of StormPars truck. You say a silent prayer the crew goes along with teaming up with StormPar!

[sykestarot]

messages meant to reach you

1-2-3 (left to right)

I DO NOT OWN THESE IMAGES

Hi guys! heres your weekly reading :) ! I hope you enjoy this and it resonates for you, also I found these pics and thought they were so cute lol ! Thanks for stopping by! <3

Pile 1

“does it ever make you sad to know that was 7 summers ago?” (The Lovers; 7 of wands; knight of cups (rx); knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of pentacles ; 6 of swords (rx))

Hi pile 1! Before I even started channeling, my cat was very interested in my tarot set up which usually he isn’t so maybe you have a kitty? Perhaps one that passed that misses you and wants you to know they are always with you. For you guys I feel a sense of heavy grief either in the recent past or the present. I also feel like you’ve been avoiding your own feelings about the whole situation. I feel a sense of disappointment from you that things didn’t work out the way you wanted. I feel like you either broke up with someone due to differences in worldviews or you might have had someone pass recently that you thought you had more time with. First of all if someone did pass recently, I am so sorry and I’m sending you so much love and light. But I do feel like this might've been a sudden thing, without warning, and you just want to continue on with life without processing just how traumatic it was for you. This person wants you to know that they love you so much and that when you're ready to unpack your grief and trauma they will be with you whether you realize it or not. Now if you had a break up recently I see this person really missing you. They dream about you and want you all to themselves again. I feel like they have pride though and won’t approach you again. I also feel like you’re genuinely done with this person though. Like this isn’t the first time you guys have had fights about this stuff and they really pushed you to your limit. This might’ve happened a while ago too and they’re just holding onto it and pulling on your energy. I really do feel like they’re wallowing in regret about how they treated you but like not enough to change. Like they regret it but they feel like they had to which is so fucked up in its own right. But I digress. I do think an energy cleanse would be best for you, however you choose to cleanse your energy and space will do. I also say get rid of any items they gifted/gave to you. I’m proud of you for knowing your worth and  letting bygones be bygones. Signs: nice house; highways; red rusty pickup truck; red in general; water; creeks; fireflies; old dock; tall can beers; sentimental views (?)

Pile 2

“i aint even got the miles to trip on you” (2 of pentacles (rx); THe Lovers (rx); 3 of pentacles (rx); Wheel of Fortune (rx); knight of pentacles; 9 of pentacles (rx)) Hi pile 2! So for you guys I actually had to restart your pile a few times it was hard for me to really connect and get a message for you guys but when I did I understood why. The message coming through is from someone you simply don’t want to hear from lol. It’s probably an old partner that’s begged and pleaded to be back in your life multiple times and you just don’t care, which is such a power move. But yea overall this person just throws a pity party for themselves and how they lost a good thing and it sucks to be them I guess. But I wanted to get a message for you from your guides at the very least so heres that! All in all your guides are very happy and proud of you!! You’ve really put in the work pile 2! I see you enjoying financial blessings and i feel like your heart and mind have found peace. Whether your with someone or not I see you ina state of stability that you never thought you’d get to. Maybe things feel a little monotonous for you but I do feel like you enjoy your life and where you’re at right now! I also feel like you guys are experiencing things you never thought you would, like an engagement or getting the promotion/job you always wanted! I keep hearing that you made life your bitch LOL!! I also see you guys paying no mind to wagging tongues and you let people think whatever they want about you because at the end of the day you just don’t care. You not only enjoy your job but you enjoy your hobby’s your house, your car, and so on and so forth. I see though that you guys should work on being proud of yourself because YOU did that! No one else did!! Go treat yourself to something nice and sit back and relax pile 2 you deserve it fr!! Signs: restart button; push to start car; nice handwriting; minecraft; jeans; interior design; iron; birch wood; big healthy plants; big windows; elevators; CAPRICORN 

Pile 3

"i'm in too deep and i'm trying to keep up above in my head instead of going under" (Judgment (rx); 6 of swords (rx); 4 of swords; 10 of swords; 2 of pentacles (rx); knight of swords (rx)) Hello Pile 3!! For you guys I see that you’re a really unique person and don’t really care about people's thoughts. I feel for your message though that you might be running in the wrong crowd or with the wrong people. I feel like you choose people based on whether or not they are in the same subgenre as you, or present the way you do. Which is understandable thinking if someone dresses the same they might have the same values but I see that the people in your life don’t. I also see that they just don’t care about you as much as you care about them. I believe that you know this somewhat or you have gut feelings about this, however I think you’re hoping one day they’ll pick you. I do see though that you know that they won’t and that you know you’re not meant to be there. I see that you just want to fit in with a group of people so badly, that you need validation that people like you. But honey, lots of people like you!! They just aren’t presenting the way you are. I see that for lack of better term “conventional” people admire your bold and unique expression of yourself. I see that you have prejudice towards these people and immediately put them in a box they you guys wouldn’t get along. Lemme tell you though as much as you advocate for not judging a book by it’s cover I feel you doing that to others. Maybe this is apart of your shadow that you need to work on. I get quite a youthful energy from you though, maybe you’re in highschool? You don’t have to change everything about your life tomorrow but you can make small steps. The only person who can make active change in your life is you! So get out there and do as much as you can without regrets! I promise you’ll enjoy the things that you didn’t think you would. Plus life is meant for mistakes and learning from them. Don’t let others perception of you ruin your experience on this earth! You got this pile 3, you’re a beautiful soul, let others see it. Signs: 111 ; wizard of oz; cheshire cat; leather; vests; studs; piercings; boots; alt fashion; old sedan; empty parking lots; cigarettes; nose rings; bleached hair

[neowinestainedress]

soooo... can i ask a drabble with johnny and sex car?

w!: car s*x, outdoor s*x (there’s nobody around tho), unprotected s*x, failed attempt at roleplaying, rough s*x but also romantic idk, size kink, fingers sucking, mexico!johnny bc he looked too hot that day

a/n: this took long, sorry, but i hope you like it! it’s also pretty long cause i’m whipped for johnny + the car is a pick-up truck for the sake of johnny's tall ass

“Babe, seriously, can you stop teasing?” Johnny huffs when you twirl around him and brush your fingers on his biceps teasingly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his neck. 

“What? You look fucking hot like this,” you say, playing with a strand of hair, and mindlessly going to sit on the open bonnet of the car, but your boyfriend is quick at putting a hand between you and the car, not without sparing you a glare. 

“We are lost in the middle of nowhere, our car broke down and you’re trying to give me a boner.” 

You chuckle. “You already have one, I think I succeeded,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side before running your tongue on your teeth.

Johnny sighs, throwing the dirty gloves on the battery and rolling his head back. What was supposed to be a simple cute date to get lost somewhere and enjoy the early summer haze turned into your car giving up on an empty road in the middle of sunflowers and poppies fields. 

“Can you at least try to make me fix it?” 

“You’ve been at it for an hour, Handy Mandy, you can’t,” you say, cupping his face to kiss him. “You’re not a mechanic, but you look hot cosplaying as one, so why don’t you call a real one that can fix this shit, and in the meanwhile have some fun?” 

Johnny sighs another time. “Seems like the perfect time for a roleplay,” he jokes. You see his hands move to pull you closer but then he takes a step back. “I’m all dirty, I have oil everywhere, I will stain your dress.” 

“Not if you take it off,” you wink, lifting the hem, showing him your bare skin. “Also, you’re hotter like this,” you say, moving close again, touching his arm and face, tracing the black lines on his skin. “It makes you look… rough.” He’s still not convinced but when your thumb brushes against his lips, you see his eyes change. 

“And what can a nice, elegant and polite girl like you do with a man like me?” He asks, strong hand reaching your neck and pulling your head back. 

“You can show me a whole new world,” you say, keeping eye contact. 

“Get in the car,” he orders, pointing to the vehicle with his head while he searches for his phone in his pocket. 

You do as he says, but you can’t help but stare at him from the window. He looks so hot right now; khaki pants falling softly on his long legs, brown belt keeping them tight around his waist, and lastly, the white tank top that wraps his toned, broad chest so well. 

“So, it’s going to take a while for the tow truck to arrive,” Johnny informs you, leaning against the car door. “I could leave, but I will never leave a damsel in distress on her own,” he winks, leaning down, reaching your leg level, placing a hand on your knee. 

You smile, tucking your hair back and giving him an innocent look. “Maybe you could help me out, I’ve got a little problem… here,” you say, slowly parting your legs and lifting your dress just enough he could see your panties weren’t on you anymore. 

“Fucking tease,” he groans, squeezing your leg harder. “In the truck, now.”

“What?” 

“You think a big man like me can fuck you good in those crumpled backseats?” He asks, leaning against the door and flexing his muscles. 

“But it’s… it’s more open,” you mumble, looking behind you in panic. 

He scoffs, eyebrow twitching. “Well, then I’ll go back fixing the car.” 

“No!” You scream. “I mean,” you try to regain your composure, “no, you can take care of me.” 

“As I thought,” Johnny says, moving back to let you pass. You quickly follow him outside, watching him jump in the open truck. 

“Hey, do I have to jump?” You pout. 

“Do I have to carry you here?” 

“Well, with those big, strong arms,” you try to convince him, but he doesn’t move. “You’re so annoying.” 

“I’m fixing the hotel room for my horny travelling companion,” he teases, fixing the pillows and covers on the floor. It’s not much, just something you carry when you feel romantic and decide to go out at night to stargaze after travelling far from the city to avoid light pollution. 

You lay down, watching him kneel between your legs, lifting your pale yellow dress up, exposing your lower half. 

“Wait, sir,” you stop him when he leans down, hot breath fanning against your skin, “why don’t you go straight to show me what you’re hiding?” You tease. “Unless you want to share me when your mechanic friend arrives. I mean, you need more help with the car, maybe you might need more help even with me.” 

Johnny inhales deeply, throwing his head back as he starts to quickly unbuckle his belt. “You always run that pretty mouth so much?” 

“Mhh, sometimes,” you taunt, winking before he gets on top of you, and you feel small again. 

“Fine, I’m going to give you what you’ve been begging for the whole ride,” he says, tapping your thighs playfully, pushing your legs flat against your chest. 

“Fuck,” you moan loudly when he pushes into you, thick dick stretching you out and hitting deep inside. 

“I’d ask for how long you’ve been thinking about this but I’m not sure I want to know the answer,” he groans, eyes falling where your bodies meet for a moment, talking about how wet you are already. 

“Since you picked me up?” 

“Shut up, that sounds terrible,” he huffs, glaring at you, but you only giggle at his expression. “You’re driving me insane today.”

You chuckle and then bring him close to you, wrapping your hands around his neck, Johnny immediately kisses you back. You can’t resist the urge to run your hands on his arms, the light tan given by your, now frequent, dates outside, and the sweat pearling his skin after he struggled under the sun for an hour, driving you insane. 

“You know,” he groans, “it’s not fair you’ve got to see my muscles all day but I still haven’t got a glimpse of your boobs.” 

You giggle, “as if you don’t know them by heart.” 

“So what? Push the dress down, come on,” he orders, watching your hands hesitantly leave his toned arms to reveal your panting chest to him. “Fucking perfect,” he groans as he gets down to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on each of them until they’re both hard and sensitive. 

You moan his name, your head rolls back when he starts fucking you faster, keeping a firm hold on your waist while the other hand is planted at the side of your head to support his body up. 

“Have I told you that you look so beautiful in this dress?” 

“All day,” you moan, not able to hide the small on your face. 

“Good, it won’t hurt to hear it one more,” he chuckles before pushing his body down so his lips can directly stay against your ear, “you look beautiful in this dress, especially when you’re a moaning mess because of me. It’s a view.” 

His words make your heart beat faster in your chest and you turn your face to the side to hide how flustered you look. “You were supposed to be rough.” 

“I’m going pretty hard on you, babe. Pretty sure the closest house from here can hear the sounds of our skin slapping. Want me to be rough with words?” 

You shake your head. “No, I just — you’re really hot like this,” you mumble. 

“I’d really hate to ruin your pretty make-up but… if that’s what you want,” he shrugs. 

You gasp when he tugs your lower body up, angling you in a way he can go deeper and faster. “You want to feel small, babe? Is that what you like so much about me?” 

At this point you can only let out whimpers, eyes rolled in the back of your head while you gasp for air. You think you stop breathing for a split second when his hand leaves your side to cup your face, it’s not a harsh squeeze but it’s a strong, firm hold, and you feel like you could come just by that. 

“Open up,” Johnny orders and you obey with no hesitation, parting your lips to let two of his fingers in. “That’s it, good girl, suck it like you suck my dick while I fuck you.” 

You almost choke when he pushes them down on your tongue, watching you gulp and shudder, while your eyes snap open, as if you’re not squeezing harder than before around his cock. 

“Oh, don’t drool, it’s not very ladylike,” Johnny taunts, smearing the spit that’s dripping out of the corners of your mouth with his thumb. 

You glare at him, but the frown on your face disappears as soon as his fingers reach your clit. You feel like screaming from the stimulation, but your whimpers and cries are muffled. 

“Keep quiet, babe, do you want to get caught?” 

You’d argue there’s nobody in miles, probably even the tow truck got lost somewhere in the fields, but you don’t. It’s hot, the sun is shining, and the wind is not helping right now, but you know that’s not the reason why you feel like you could pass out right now. Johnny knows what he’s doing, giving it to you like you like it the most, pushing all the right bottoms, and you know you won’t last long. 

“Close,” you mumble around his fingers, your watery eyes looking up at him that’s hovering over you, and he’d look more intimidating if the wind wasn’t blowing his blonde hair, making him look more like an angel. 

“I know, babe, come on, come for me,” he encourages you, throwing his head back when your nails sink in his thick arms as you try to hold on to him while pleasure overtakes you. You come, head rolled back while your lips close tightly around his fingers to conceal your moans, hips bucking against him, and pussy clenching so hard, Johnny can’t help but come too, realising his cum inside you, pumping his dick a few more times as he watches it drip down slowly. 

You can breathe normally again when Johnny pulls his fingers out, grinning as he cleans your face with his thumb. 

“You should apply the lipstick again, it’s kinda ruined now,” he chuckles, watching you try to recompose yourself, fixing your hair and dress, and doing the same. 

“I wonder whose fault is that.” 

Johnny lifts his hands in defence before standing up and holding his hand out for you. “I’m not the horny one that teased the other.” 

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes as you stand up with his help and then you both jump out of the truck. “The wait would’ve been so boring.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[perotovar]

into the beat of the night (ch 4) "thin flesh"

moodboard by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: swearing, (1) instance of misgendering (not by anyone we like), unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, brief oral (m receiving), discussions of contraceptives, this shit is sappy y'all, there's a cat too word count: 5.5k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

River moaned, tangling their fingers into Frankie’s curls. “F-Frankie, my lunch is only thirty minutes,” they giggled, biting their lip.

“Don’t care,” Frankie grunted, digging his thumbs into their hips and continued sucking on their neck. He hummed happily, kissing up the side of their neck to nibble on their jaw playfully.

Frankie had stopped by the building where River worked with lunch. It was now getting cold.

River had to push Frankie away, a slightly dazed look on their face. They smiled up at him and poked his cheek. “And you call me the menace. I touch your dick one time and you become insatiable.”

Frankie laughed, his shoulders shaking. He leaned over and kissed their cheek before relaxing back in his seat. “Sorry, your food is probably cold now,” he mumbled, handing the takeout bag to them.

River shrugged and began eating. “So, we’re meeting up with Will, Benny, and…”

“Santiago.”

“Santiago. Tonight, right?”

“Yeah, if you still want to,” Frankie nodded jerkily. This was the first time he was introducing River to the guys. He was mostly nervous about Benny opening his big, golden retriever mouth and asking dumb questions. He knew at least Will and Santi would be normal, if a bit protective.

“Of course I still want to,” River said, swallowing a bite of food. “They’re like brothers to you. I can only imagine the shit you guys have seen together,” they muttered sympathetically.

A far-away look crossed Frankie’s features and he swallowed around a small lump in his throat. River reached over and held Frankie’s hand, rubbing their thumb over his knuckles.

“Sorry, we can talk about something else,” they said softly.

Frankie smiled weakly and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he looked up into their eyes. They reminded him of leaves in a summer downpour. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” River had to go, finishing up the food Frankie brought for them. “I’ll text you when I get off work, okay?”

Frankie nodded and leaned over to kiss their cheek. He kissed their lips once, then again. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” River winked, climbing out of Frankie’s truck and making their way back into the tall building.

Frankie exhaled loudly and started the truck. The prospect of telling River about his past, about his addiction, made him incredibly nervous. He had been clean for a long time now, but it didn’t make the conversation less daunting. River hadn’t turned him away yet, but he also didn't know their hard limits. Despite feeling more comfortable with River than he had with anyone in a long time, it was still so new.

He pulled into the parking lot of Marisol’s daycare and sat idling, waiting to go inside and pick her up. He looked down at his phone and smiled at his lockscreen; it was a photo of River with their tongue sticking out, piercing on full display, and flipping the bird. He took another deep breath and rolled down the window for some fresh air. It would be okay.

It would.

“It’s a music based subculture, Benny. The fashion came later.”

Benny shook his head as he swallowed his beer. “Then why have I never heard of a ‘goth band’ then?”

“Because you probably listen to butt rock.”

Benny spluttered, offended, but laughed. “What is that?”

Frankie, River, and Santi laughed as Will rubbed Benny’s shoulders sympathetically. Things were going really well. Better than Frankie expected them to go, if he were being honest. It felt like River had always been a part of the group. 

“I haven’t heard a denial yet,” River teased in a sing-song tone, a twinkle in their eye. Everyone laughed harder as Benny raised his arms in defeat. “Speaking of, did Frankie tell you guys what he wore when we went back to The Night Owl?”

“Oh, god, here we go,” Frankie groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“An Iron Maiden t-shirt, which was already funny on its own. But he also wore these blue and yellow New Balances and I won’t lie, I almost ghosted him for it.” River winked at him as they squeezed his thigh under the table.

Benny was laughing so hard his face went red and Will shook his head in disappointment. Santiago sighed and put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “You wore your New Balances to a goth club? Hermano…”

“I don’t have any clothes that would fit there, okay?” Frankie explained, exasperated. He turned to River and gave them his best pout and puppy dog eyes, whispering, “Besides, I thought you liked my ‘lumberjack, fisherman chic’?”

River looked to Frankie’s lips briefly and licked their own before looking back up into his eyes. “True, I do. Wouldn’t change it for the world. But,” they grinned. “I would love to see you all ‘done up’ one of these days. Just for fun.”

Benny was nearly having a stroke at this point. “Oh, my god. I’m trying to imagine Fish with eyeliner and it’s killing me,” he wheezed.

Frankie laughed and shrugged, putting an arm around River’s shoulders. “We’ll see,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss River’s cheek. 

Will chuckled and rolled his eyes before standing. “Another round? On me, this time.”

Everyone nodded their thanks, and fell back into easy conversation. Out of the corner of River’s eye, they saw someone nearby that could be a problem. The man had been staring at River all night, and not in a way they could ignore. River sighed quietly and prepared themselves as the man stood and tried to “subtly'' make his way over to the table.

“Damn, when’s the funeral?” The drunken asshole smirked, looking right at River. He sneered at them and waited for River to react.

“Hey, fuck off, asshole—“

“Benny, don’t,” River muttered, giving him a look that said more than their words ever would. Benny went quiet but looked at the guy with daggers for eyes. Santiago crossed his arms over his chest and watched for River’s signal.

“Haven’t decided yet,” they exhaled angrily toward the drunk.

“Listen, lady, I was just—“ River rolled their eyes and stared at the man. Frankie’s eyes went wide and he saw red. River quickly grabbed Frankie’s thigh again and squeezed, stopping him. Their expression changed from neutral to manic, an unsettling smile spreading across their face. They tilted their head to the side and stared, unblinking. The man shuffled uneasily on his feet and scoffed. “Whatever, fuckin’ freak.”

The man stumbled away just as Will returned with all their drinks. He looked at the group of grumpy faces and the guy walking away. “What happened?”

Benny’s face broke into a wide grin and he started snapping his fingers. “River just scared a dude,” he laughed.

River rolled their eyes, but smiled this time. “No, the guy came over and tried to be clever and I shut it down,” they shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” They gestured to their wardrobe by way of explanation.

Frankie went quiet and had a pensive look on his face, rubbing River’s lower back. He knew River picked up on the drunk calling them “lady”, because he knows he heard it. Will had given River a fist bump and everything went back to normal. He’ll bring it up later.

“Okay, so I know Fish went and it was an accident, but like, do you think I could go to The Night Owl?” Benny smiled wide, that golden retriever energy back in droves. “I’ve never been to a goth club and it sounds fun.”

River gave Benny a long look, thinking about it. “I don’t see why not,” they hummed thoughtfully. “I just have one question for you.”

Benny blinked and nodded, letting River continue.

“Are you sure you’re a hundred percent straight? Because you would be a hit there, and not just with the ladies.”

Everyone went quiet for a second before bursting into laughter. Frankie laughed quieter than the others and shook his head. He looked at River lovingly, taking in the features of their side profile and lips.

“Is this why you asked if I listened to butt rock?” Benny asked, incredulous. “I still don’t know what that means!!”

They were quiet on the drive to River’s apartment. River looked over at Frankie, worry etched onto their features. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Frankie glanced at River before looking back at the road. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said softly. “I’m honestly more worried about you.”

River blinked. “How come? I’m fine. I had a really good time.”

“The guy?” Frankie asked, not wanting them to bury what happened. “He called you–”

“I know what he called me, Frankie.”

Frankie frowned and bit his lip. He didn’t want to step on River’s toes with this, but he was so ready to beat the shit out of the guy back there before they stopped him. “I’m sorry, I just… I know you can handle yourself, but,” he floundered for the right words, sighing in frustration when he couldn’t find them. “I just… I’m here, okay? You don’t have to like, deal with disrespect like that while I’m with you. Especially if it’s to like, impress my friends or something.”

River went quiet and smiled sadly, looking down at their painted nails. “I know,” they hummed softly. “Thank you. Same goes for you. I may not know all the details right now, and I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but I’m not blind, babe. I know you’ve got demons, too.”

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he pulled up to their apartment complex. He lifted their hand to his mouth and kissed their knuckles reverently.

“Go ahead and park.”

He raised a brow and did as he was told, turning his truck off. He looked across the darkened cab at River, a curtain of hair obscuring their features before they turned their head. “What’s up?” he asked softly.

“You wanna come up?” They gestured towards their apartment with their thumb, a shy smile on their face.

Frankie’s heart skipped a beat and he nodded, undoing his seatbelt. He followed them up the steps and waited patiently while River unlocked the door. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” they sighed. River’s voice was immediately followed by a loud scratchy meow. “Aww, hi, baby,” they grinned, crouching down to pick up what was probably the fluffiest gray cat Frankie had ever seen. “You’re not allergic are you?” They asked, a look of worry crossing their features, realizing they forgot to mention that they had a cat.

Frankie snorted and shook his head, holding his finger out for the cat to assess him. 

River sighed in relief and kicked the door shut behind him. “Good,” they smiled. “This is Jonsey.”

“Alien?” Frankie grinned.

“Yes! Ugh, thank you!”

He laughed as Jonsey leapt out of River’s arms and went, presumably, towards his food. “How come you always look so spotless? Doesn’t he shed a lot?”

“Ohhh yeah,” River laughed. “I have travel-size lint rollers on me at all times.”

They both laughed before they got quiet, taking each other in. Frankie shoved his hands in his pockets and decided to look around. 

“Wine?” River asked, walking toward the kitchen.

“Sure. Thank you.”

He really wasn’t sure what he expected River’s apartment to look like, but if he had to guess, he thinks it’d look exactly like this. Dark wood furniture with gray accents. There were plants everywhere; spilling over window sills and winding up bookshelves, lush and full of life. 

“You can have a seat, y’know,” River chuckled, handing him a wine glass. They started walking around the living room and lighting a couple candles to further warm up the place.

Frankie obliged and had a seat on River’s couch, getting comfy. He left his arms open and River immediately took the invitation, cuddling close. They drank their wine in silence for a few minutes before Frankie spoke.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he started, rubbing the thumb from his free hand against their arm. “I may not understand all the nuances of your gender and what comes with it, but I want to. I really like you, River, and… I wanna be there for you.”

Turning slightly, River made eye contact before setting their wine glass on the coffee table. Frankie did the same with his own. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you coming into my life like this, but I really appreciate it,” they grinned. Their lips pressed against his tenderly. “You’re taking all of this incredibly well. Most cis guys get so threatened by… this,” they gestured to their body. “Usually why I date women,” they chuckled.

Frankie smiled, heart fluttering. “I’m not sure what it is either. I just felt a pull,” he shrugged. “And you’re right. I haven’t been totally honest about my past yet, but… I will. I promise. You deserve to know.”

Climbing into Frankie’s lap, River held his face to kiss him with more purpose. He melted into it, keeping his hands on their sides. Frankie closed his eyes,the scent of River’s cologne washing over him. Color bloomed across his eyelids, the earthy tones of sandalwood and the deep red of the wine on their lips.

Coming up for air, River breathed against his lips, “You don’t have Marisol this week do you? You don’t need to be home?” 

“No, I dropped her off at her mom’s earlier,” Frankie sighed, scratching lightly at River’s lower back, making them shiver.

“Do you want to take me to bed, Francisco?”

Frankie’s whole body shuddered and he felt time stop. Pools of green looked over his features like he’d hung the moon as River waited for his answer. Swallowing his nerves, a soft smile graced Frankie’s features. “Of course,” he whispered gently, because if he spoke any louder, he was sure the spell would be broken.

River’s face lit up, pink warming their cheeks. They leaned forward and attached their lips to his neck, nipping and sucking softly at the thick muscles there. “Bedroom is down the hall on the right,” they mumbled.

Frankie didn’t need to hear anything else as he stood. He held River by the ass as they laced their legs around his waist. He felt like he was in a trance as he made his way down the hall. He had convinced himself that he wouldn’t make it this far with them. Feeling around for the light switch in the dark, Frankie exhaled shakily as River sucked a mark into his shoulder. He gave up and walked slowly to their bed and set them down.

River leaned over and turned on the lamp next to the bed. A soft warm glow lit the room, illuminating each other well enough to continue. Frankie shuffled on his feet for a second, nerves suddenly hitting him.

“What’s wrong?” River asked softly, scooting toward the edge of the bed, and resting their hands on Frankie’s belt.

Frankie thought about it for a minute, biting his lip. “Is there anything I should know? Like,” he floundered for a second. “I don’t want to touch you in the wrong way or say the wrong thing.”

River swooned, and smiled up at him. “God, I know it’s the bare minimum but your concern and respect is so fucking hot,” they groaned, hiding their burning cheeks in his soft tummy. 

Frankie’s chest puffed up a bit and he grinned down at them, running his fingers through their long hair. He moved it away from their face and cupped their cheek, rubbing his thumb along the bone there.

River pulled themselves together for a second to speak and cleared their throat. “I’m very cool with you touching me anywhere. I would very much like you inside me,” they smirked. Frankie choked on his own spit, cock twitching in his jeans. They slowly unbuckled Frankie’s jeans and looked at the throbbing, red, and leaking tip of Frankie’s cock. “No underwear, huh?” They hummed, delighted at the sight, and started pumping it slowly, giving the head little kitten licks.

“F-Fuck,” Frankie moaned shakily, tipping his head back. He felt his entire body shiver as their tongue piercing dragged over the tip, the colors behind his eyelids returning. He tightened the fist in River’s hair and tugged slightly, making them moan around his cock. They started bobbing their head slowly, looking up at him. Frankie couldn’t look away from the mouth around him and he groaned, his cock twitching inside their mouth.

He pulled them off, a trail of saliva connecting River’s bottom lip to the head of his cock. “Babe, stop,” he chuckled breathily. “This is going to be done so fast if you keep that up.”

River’s eyes twinkled. “‘Babe’, huh?” They teased, tugging his pants down so he could step out of them. “And what, can’t last longer than five minutes?”

Growling, Frankie pushed them down onto their back on the bed. He hovered over them, one knee on the bed next to them. “Not around you,” he smirked, thick fingers methodically unbuttoning River’s shirt and yanking it off their shoulders.

His breath caught at the sight of their tattoos, but he slowed down when their top surgery scars came into view. He tentatively ran his fingertips along the scars, everything really hitting him all at once.

River watched his face, their stomach fluttering with nerves, but also excitement. They’d gotten to this point with others before and it was enough to turn people away. They didn’t think that would happen with Frankie, but they could never be too sure. Their cheeks warmed the longer he looked at them.

“Please say something,” River whispered anxiously.

“Where do I start?” Frankie breathed, smiling softly. “This looks like it really hurt,” he hummed sadly. “But it’s so beautiful.” His voice shook with reverence. He looked up at them, face full of emotion. “Lie back for me?”

River’s entire body was buzzing as they put a pillow underneath their head to look down at him. The fabric of their dress pants glided across their skin as Frankie removed the rest of their clothes. He hummed happily at the damp spot on the front of their underwear, kissing from one knee to the top of their thigh. River exhaled shakily, and bit their lip, taking in the sight of the mass of curls between their legs. Unable to resist, they reached forward and carded their fingers through his hair.

Frankie looked up at them, his big brown eyes shining as he kissed their clit through the fabric. River’s breath hitched and they giggled softly, lifting one leg to poke his shoulder with their toes. He winked and moved the last piece of clothing down their legs. He didn’t waste any time and latched his mouth onto their clit and sucked hard.

River moaned out loud, their back arching off the bed. “F-Frankie,” they whined, tugging on his curls.

Frankie was in his own world, creating a rhythm with his tongue, and the sounds coming from River’s mouth clogging his senses. He felt drunk, prodding two fingers at their entrance.

“Y-yes, please,” they breathed weakly, giving him permission.

Frankie ached to bring them pleasure as his fingers sunk in, quickly finding a pace to pump inside. He found a rhythm between his tongue and his fingers, and apparently it was doing something, if the sounds River was making were anything to go by.

River’s thighs trembled around his head, their entire body covered in goosebumps. Frankie looked up at them and lifted his mouth off of their clit, but his fingers never let up. River groaned out an exhale as they made eye contact and bit their lip. Something passed between them without words because when Frankie’s thumb touched their clit at the right pressure and rhythm, River’s eyes rolled back. They let out a loud moan into the room as they stilled, coming hard and wet around Frankie’s fingers.

Frankie grinned, watching River writhe around on the bed for a moment before coming down. “Very good,” he hummed, removing his fingers slowly and wrapping his lips around them. He groaned at the taste of them. He held onto their thighs before burying his tongue inside them once again. His aquiline nose rubbed perfectly against their clit while he lapped up more of them, hardly giving them a moment to breathe.

“Frankie, f-fuck, wait,” River gasped, their head spinning with want. Their clit throbbed in overstimulation, still so sensitive from their high.

Frankie grunted into their pussy and looked up at them like they’d just interrupted his favorite meal. And, really, they had. River’s breath hitched at the look in Frankie’s eyes. His normally soft eyes had turned hard, feral, and they dripped at how turned on it made them. He shook his head against them, moving from side to side, his curls bouncing at the movement.

“God, fuck,” River moaned pathetically, their heart rate going at a pace they hadn’t felt before.

“Gimme one more, baby,” Frankie mumbled against them. “Just one more, sweet thing. Gotta taste it this time.”

River’s eyes rolled back and they whined, nearly yanking on Frankie’s hair. His voice sounded as wrecked as they felt, all throaty and deep. Their walls clenched tightly around his tongue in little pulses the closer they got to their release. Frankie watched closely, his vision blurring slightly at the edges with the amount of focus he had on River’s form. He paid rapt attention to which movements of his tongue made them squirm. Their chest stuttered with every breath they took, the muscles and tendons in their neck moving underneath the skin tightly. 

When River came, it was more intense than the first time and came in waves, making them nearly shout in pleasure. Frankie tried holding their hips down with those big hands of his but ended up following their movements so as not to miss a single drop. His eyes were on them the whole time, taking in the sight of them at their highest peak.

River trembled in the aftershocks as Frankie’s mouth finally let go. He kissed along the bottom of their tummy and left little nips and marks, sucking and staking his claim over them. River grinned lazily at the sight, their heart soaring. “Mmm, you’re good at that,” River chuckled, feeling all warm and satisfied.

Frankie grinned as he crawled onto the bed to hover over them. “Thank you,” he smirked, a smidge of arrogance coloring his features.

River laughed softly and rolled their eyes. They gripped the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it over his head. “How are you still wearing your shirt, but no pants or underwear?” They snorted.

Frankie’s eyes darkened as he took in their flushed cheeks and moved their long hair behind their ears. “I was a little distracted,” he whispered, kissing them sensually. 

River sighed happily, getting lost in the taste of themselves on his tongue. They ran their hands down his torso to grip onto Frankie’s ass and squeezed. They wrapped their legs around his waist and quickly flipped them over before Frankie had time to react. Now straddling him, they ground their hips against Frankie’s cock situated perfectly between their lips. “My turn,” River hummed, latching onto Frankie’s nipple.

Frankie gasped at all the sensations as his hips bucked up against them. “W-wait, do you have a condom? I’m clean, I just wanna make sure,” he smiled, rubbing their arms protectively.

“I do,” they nodded, nipping around the other nipple as they looked up at him. “We can use one if you want, but I am on PrEP, too. Also, uh,” they lifted their mouth off of him, sitting comfortably. “I can’t get pregnant. That’s the other major surgery I had.”

“Oh.”

They got quiet as they watched each other breathe heavily for a bit. “Is… Is that okay?” River asked hesitantly.

Frankie’s face went through every emotion imaginable within seconds before landing on nearly feral. “You… really shouldn’t have told me that,” he grinned wickedly, grabbing onto their hips and digging his fingernails in hard. River stopped him before he could turn them over and started grinding against the underside of his cock again, getting it impossibly wet.

“Oh, nu-uh,” River smirked. “You’re not in charge right now.”

Frankie’s cock twitched at the authority in their voice and he nodded obediently.

“Good boy,” they hummed, their fingers curling around his shaft before slowly sinking down on him. River whimpered slightly at the stretch and swirled their hips in little circles on the way down before they were sat on his lap comfortably. They groaned in satisfaction, slowly getting used to his girth and the weight of him.

Breathing heavily, Frankie shut his eyes and dug his head into the pillow underneath him. He focused on the sounds around him so he wouldn’t come right away; the slightly opened window brought in a nice breeze that cooled his flushed skin. River was breathing heavily, but quietly, watching patiently as he evened out his breathing. Blunt nails scratched lightly at Frankie’s torso, goosebumps following in their wake.

It had been a while since he’d been inside someone and it’s clear that it’s been a while for River as well considering just how god damn tight the fit was.

“You okay?” River grinned, rolling their hips slightly, already used to the feeling. They clenched around him teasingly in little pulses.

Frankie’s breath hitched and he groaned, desperately gripping their hips. He was certain there would be marks leftover tomorrow. “Fuck, gimme a second,” he panted, eyes squeezed shut. River watched his Adam’s Apple bob a few times as he got his breathing back to normal, their heart pounding in their chest.

When Frankie raised his head again to look down at where the two of them met, he exhaled shakily. “Jesus,” he moaned, his eyes traveling up their torso until he landed on their face. His heart skipped a beat seeing the look on their face. 

He hadn’t seen River so… vulnerable before. They always looked put together, not a hair out of place or any bit of makeup smeared. They looked beautiful; their hair a mess, and their makeup smudged. They looked calm, at peace. Satisfied. His hands slowly traveled up their side before his thumbs rubbed at the edges of their surgery scars.

“Ready?” River smiled softly, cupping his face with one hand and bracing themself on his chest with the other.

Frankie nodded and lifted his hips slightly, his words spoken without a sound; fuck me.

And they did.

Bouncing on him at a leisurely pace to start, River watched Frankie’s eyes glaze over with the pleasure he was feeling, his face slack and his swollen lips parted. Before either of them knew it, they were rocking together at a steady pace, their collective moans and groans and sighs of pleasure filling the room.

They were completely lost in one another, River’s head thrown back to expose their throat as they moaned loudly. Their brows dipped down in pleasure as they bit their lip. “God, you feel so fucking good,” they whined, slowly starting to lose their rhythm as they got closer to their peak.

Frankie moaned and sat up, latching his mouth onto their neck, hugging them close to his chest. He dug his feet into the mattress and started fucking up into them. River groaned, hiding their face in his neck. They whined and whimpered against his damp skin, trembling on top of him.

The light slap, slap, slap of their skin against each other was the only sound in the room for a moment before Frankie panted against their forehead, kissing there softly. “More?” he smiled, eyes shut in bliss.

River nodded and whined weakly. “S-so fucking close.”

Frankie grunted as he flipped them over, well and truly fucking into them now. He didn’t let up, moaning when  River’s nails clawed into Frankie’s back. He hissed at the sting and shivered all over, his hips slowly losing their rhythm. “Touch yourself, sweet thing,” Frankie breathed, watching their blissed out expression change to a look of focus. River reached between them and started rubbing at their clit at the same pace as Frankie’s hips.

River whined weakly, half-lidded and glossy eyes looking up at him. They were unable to form the words themself, their chest stuttering and breath hitching with every one of his thrusts.

“Yeah?” he breathed happily.

“Yeah.”

Frankie crashed their lips together as River moaned, his hips keeping the pace he knew they needed. River’s whole body stilled for a second before bucking into a slight staccato as their release wracked through them. They whispered into his mouth, their walls clenching around his cock tightly, trying to provoke his own release as well.

“C’mon,” they panted against his lips encouragingly. It didn’t take much after that, Frankie’s hips slamming into River’s as his cock twitched inside them violently, thick spurts and ropes coating their walls. His hips rolled in slow waves until the last drop left his cock. A low grunt left his lips as he looked down at their combined releases coating his shaft. River moved their hips back a little, more of it dripping out in the process. It made Frankie shiver all over, a wicked little grin on his face.

Quiet settled over the two of them as they caught their breath. River watched Frankie’s face go from tense to the most relaxed they’d ever seen him. They smiled up at him and cupped his face, kissing his nose sweetly. He opened his eyes at that, looking into their eyes and his cheeks warmed at the attention.

“Hey,” he smiled, voice rough.

“Hey, yourself.”

Frankie snorted and leaned down to kiss them deeply. He slowly parted their legs, moving out from between them carefully. River sighed into his mouth at the loss, the cum trickling out as his cock dragged against them. They felt empty, clenching around nothing, but reveling in the filthy feeling they had.

When they came up for air, River played with Frankie’s curls, all of them sticking up in every direction. They grinned and tapped him on the shoulder. “Be right back,” they hummed, crawling out from under him to go into their bathroom down the hall. Frankie watched their ass as they left and plopped down onto his back, one arm resting on his forehead. He shut his eyes and just focused on his breathing for a moment before he heard the toilet flush and the sounds of bare feet coming back into the bedroom.

He looked up and saw River crawling back onto the bed with a warm washcloth. They slowly started cleaning Frankie up, almost reverently. Frankie watched them quietly, his heart skipping a beat. He usually did this part, but was more than happy to be on the receiving end of it. As River finished, they tossed the washcloth into the hamper in their closet.

“You need anything? Water?” River smiled down at him. Frankie nodded and pulled them down for a quick kiss.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

River jumped out of the bed and made their way into the kitchen. Frankie got comfortable as he listened to them move around in there. He heard a small chirp at the door and a fluffy gray tail came in through the doorway. He smirked as Jonsey jumped up onto the end of the bed and got comfortable. Jonsey sniffed at Frankie’s toes before rubbing his head against them and curled up into a ball. He fell asleep pretty soon after that.

“Sorry, had to clean a glass,” River chuckled softly as they walked back into the bedroom, still blessedly naked. Frankie appreciated the view, and happily took the glass of water. He took a couple of big gulps and set it on the nightstand next to him.

River dug around in the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a hair tie. Frankie watched silently as they slowly pulled their long hair into loose braid. Their tattooed skin was slightly shiny from the perspiration of their coupling, making his stomach flutter. He smiled at their flushed cheeks as they tossed the long braid over their shoulder when they finished.

River crawled into the bed carefully, making sure not to wake up Jonsey. “Least he was polite enough to wait until we were done,” Frankie snorted, pulling River into his side. River giggled and kissed Frankie’s chest softly.

“True,” they said around a yawn. “I’m exhausted. You wore me out, old man.”

Frankie sighed in exasperation and laughed softly, kissing River’s hairline. “All that and you still call me old,” he grumbled.

“It’s an affectionate term.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirked. “Get some sleep.”

River nodded and got into the covers. They lightly pulled on his arm, kissing his shoulder. “You too, mister.”

Frankie obliged, pulling River close to his chest. Thick fingers passed lightly over River’s skin as their breathing evened out. Frankie stayed up for a bit and just let the moment settle into his heart. He looked down at the top of their head and placed a soft kiss to the crown before shutting his eyes himself.

The last thing he heard that night was the sound of River’s soft snoring. Frankie exhaled, heart feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

[haganezukawaifu]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓪 𝓓𝓸𝓵𝓬𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9

~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 ~ 𝓜.𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽~ 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 ~

I stood in the mirror to adjust my outfit. I wore a white sweater with a white vest, a plaid skirt, and black tights. My hair was uncertain. It was either braided on either side or an updo. I could have let it out but instead, I just did my half up half down duo, my usual style. I looked in the mirror to gain confidence.

'Christine. You can do it. You're heading to a house blood-sucking vampires who feed on animals. Not humans. What could be wrong?'

I breathed and exhaled as I exited my room. I headed toward the kitchen as Cordelia noticed me. "Oh you're up early," Cordelia replied.

Heading to the fridge, I picked up two waffles and put them in the toaster. "I'm going over to a friend's place," I said as I waited for my waffles to pop up.

"A morning hangout. How fun?" she said. I open the cabinet and pull out a plate. Just at the right time, my waffles popped up from the toaster. After placing them on the plate, I sat down at the small kitchen table. I grabbed the syrup, poured it over the waffles, and took the first bite. Curiosity spread across Cordelia's face as she asks "So who is this friend you're going over to? Is she Bella?"

"It's the Cullen," I answer. She looks at me surprised. "I never knew you and the Cullen were close," she said.

"W-Well. Alice, the girl that came into Aphrodite. We started talking and we had a pleasant relationship, so she invited me over," I replied as I continued to eat.

"Oh. this Alice. Do you like her?" Cordelia asked. I choked as Cordelia's response caught me off guard. Cordelia laughed at my reaction. "Cordelia," I yelled.

"What? You know I love you just the way you are?" she said as she sat down with coffee. As soon as she sat down next to me, she grabbed my face and smiled at me. "No matter who you choose to be with." She pecked my head. As soon as I grasped her hands, I got her to let me go.

"Cordelia. We're just friends. In addition, she has a boyfriend," I said as I stabbed my fork into my waffles.

Cordelia snickered at my reaction. "Well, I'm glad you are gaining more friends," Cordelia said as she drank her coffee. I turn to her as she smiles at me. She knew I was having trouble forming friendships here, but Cordelia was my only support through it all.

I finish eating and wash my dishes. "Well, I'm heading out."

"Okay. I'll see you in the shop," Cordelia said.

I nod my head in response and grab my keys and bag and exit through the front door. I went to my car and sat in the driver's seat. I then pulled out the card Alice wrote the directions on. I used my phone to get directions to the Cullen home. After passing the Calawah River bridge, other houses flashed past us. They became farther away. As I drove through a misty forest. I'm further out than that, I thought to myself. I then turned onto a dirt road. It was unmarked, you could barely see it among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, making the road ahead unclear for a few meters. It twisted like a serpent around the trees. After driving slowly for a few miles, I saw a thinning of the woods. It was almost like a meadow or a lawn. Soon I saw it, the Cullen house. Six primordial cedars shaded an entire acre with their branches. The tree held its shadow up to the house wall.

As I step out, I admire their home from the outside. It looks timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted in soft faded white and stood three stories tall. There was also a deep porch wrapping around the house front. It had a lovely charm to it. I noticed Bella's truck. I shut my car door and walked to the front door. I stood there patiently, quietly.

'Okay. Christine. You got this.'

After giving myself every bit of confidence, I breathed and exhaled. When I reached out to knock on the door, Alice opened it and stood beaming brightly.

"You're here," she said.

I nodded my head smiling. I was surprised as Alice grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. At the door, I noticed the house looked nice as my eyes wandered around. The inside of the first floor was open and bright with a few internal walls. To the left of the front door was a wide central staircase. To the right was a raised area with a grand piano in the center, a dining room, and a kitchen.

"Nice huh," Alice said. I nodded my head. From the stairs, I saw Jasper.

"Hello Christine," Jasper greeted me. I greet back. She led me to the raised floor section by the grand piano as I heard Edward's voice asking where's Alice?

"I'm right here," she said as she pulled my hand and there stood Edward, Bella, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and a woman. But no Rosalie and Emmett. I wonder where they are.

"Christine, I would like to introduce you to Carlisle and Esme," Alice said.

Esme. She was pale and beautiful. She was small, but less angular and more rounded than the others. Something about her heart-shaped face and soft caramel-colored hair reminded me of those silent movies. She smiled warmly. Carlisle and Esme were both dressed casually. I feel like I overdid my outfit.

"Umm. Happy to see you again Dr. Cullen," I said nervously.

"You're very welcome Christine and please as I told your friend, Bella, call me Carlisle." I nod my head.

"Christine, it is lovely to meet you," Mrs. Cullen said as she reached for my hand. Her hand was cold.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Cullen."

"Alice didn't tell me you were aesthetically pleasing," Mrs. Cullen remarked.

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Cullen, " I blushed. "You can call me Esme," she replied. I nodded my head, and responded, "Of course Mrs... I mean Esme."

My eyes wandered around. Their home looks nice. It's clean and bright. "Alice told me that your mother owned that adorable flower shop in town," Esme responded.

"Y-Yes. Since we moved here, Cordelia has run it. I help her out sometime. That table centerpiece, I made myself," I said as I pointed to the lavender and tulips centerpiece on the grand piano.

"Really. You have quite a talent," Esme said. I felt Alice bump my shoulder, teasing me. I could feel my cheeks heating up at her comment.

"T-Though with a lovely home like this, I am honored that my work can sit in your home." With a bright smile, Esme replied "The honor is all mine."

 I smiled as I felt a small bump on my hip. I turn toward Bella as she looks at me. She leans in close to me and whispers, "I didn't know you were coming here."

"I got invited to come over by Alice on the day she came to the shop. And you?"

"It was a last-minute thing," Bella whispered.

I nodded in understatement. My eyes wandered and landed on the piano and so did Bella. "Do any of you play?" Esme asked me and Bella.

"Oh no. I don't. As a child, I never got into playing a musical instrument, unlike my brother. I was more of a dancer," I explained.

"You dance. What type of dance?" Esme asked.

"Ballet," I answered.

"Really? You have to invite us to the next show," Esme said. "I'll be sure to get a ticket to my next performance when that comes," I replied with a nod. I cleared my throat to focus on Bella.

"Umm, Bella. What about you? Do you play?" I asked.

Shaking her head, she replied, "Not at all. It's very beautiful. Is it yours?" She laughed and answered no. "Edward didn't tell you he was musical," she said. Bella and I both look at Edward and reply "No."

I had no idea Edward could play piano. "Edward can do everything, right?" Bella replied as I heard Jasper snicker. It was then I heard Esme scold Edward hoping he hadn't been showing off saying it was rude before telling him to play for us.

"I thought showing off was rude," Edward objected. "Well there is an exception to every rule," Esme replied.

"I would like to hear you play," Bella said. I'd like to hear as well. A push from Esme leads Edward toward the piano and he pulls Bella along to sit on a bench beside him. While walking toward the piano, I stood by the side. Edward played a beautiful melody. Bella's eyes lit up with amazement, while I was filled with awe.

His fingers move swiftly on the keys. I was amazed. The melody was beautiful as it shifted to a soft tone. As I listened, I heard Alice whisper "Hey Christine, you wanna come with me for a second? I can show you around the house." I nodded my head in response. Alice walks to the stairs as I follow her. Suddenly I heard a different melody. The moment we walked up the stairs, Alice whispered to me: "I think Esme likes you."

"Does she? Are you sure I wasn't an idiot?" I asked.

Alice giggled as she shook her head. "Where's Rosalie and Emmett? I didn't see them," I asked. "They're around. Now let's show you around," Alice said.

She showed me everything. To Carlisle's room, Rosalie and Emmett's room, to her and Jasper's room. It was all pleasant. "So what do you think? Not what you expected, huh?" Alice asked. "It looks nice and old. How old is your home?" I asked curiously. "Early sixteen-thirties," Alice said. Wow. It's an antique. She told me that it belonged to Carlisle's father and that he carved it himself.

"Just curious, how old is Carlisle?" I asked. "367," Alice said.

My eyes widen at her response. 367. I had a million questions in my head. In response to her question, I asked, "Where was he born? What year did he turn?"

"He was born in London in 1640," Alice said. She then told me that he was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died in childbirth. His father was intolerant. During that time, Protestants came to power and he strongly believed in evil. His father led the hunt for witches, werewolves, and vampires.

'How awful.'

I also learned that innocent people were burned. Despite his best effort, he couldn't find the monster he wanted. The pastor grew old and appointed Carlisle to the raid. Carlisle was more persistent than his father. He found a coven of vampires living in the city sewers, only coming out at night to hunt. One emerged and he was ancient and weak with hunger. She told me that the vampire ran through the street as Carlisle yelled out in Latin to warn the others. Being 23 at the time, he was fast and pursued. The vampire then attacked him but the others were close behind. In defense, the vampire killed two men and snatched a third, leaving Carlisle to bleed on the street. Anything infected by the monster must be destroyed, but Carlisle acts instinctively to save his life.

After crawling away, the vampire and his victim were followed by the mob. Carlisle then hid in a cellar, burying himself in rotting potatoes for three days. "Could you believe that he stayed hidden without being noticed?" Alice said.

"I believe it."

I was drawn into the story. I asked, "And what happened next?" She then smiled and said, "You know I think it's better if we go and speak with Carlisle himself. You should go to his office," Alice said as she pulled along. "O-Oh okay. Is it safe?" I asked.

Alice giggled and replied yes. I nodded my head and walked to his office. As soon as I arrived, I saw Edward and Bella. Edward noticed and replied "Back again I see," Edward replied. "I came to learn about Carlisle's history. Alice told me to come."

"You're in luck, and so is Bella," Edward said as he looked at her. I look at Bella and she responds, "I want to know myself."

I nod my head. As we waited at the door, I heard a faint voice saying come in as Edward opened the door. Carlisle's office was interesting. The walls were paneled in dark wood. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that held more books than I have ever seen in a library. Carlisle sat behind his mahogany desk.

"What can I do for you?" Carlisle asked, rising from his seat.

"I wanted to show Bella some of our history," Edward replied.

"I too came to learn your history. I hope we didn't disturb you," I said. Carlisle shook his head. "Where would you like to start?" he asked. "The Waggoner," Edward said.

It was then that we faced a wall different from the others. Framed pictures of all sizes adorned this wall. In vibrant colors and dull monochromes. We were now standing in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. I began to examine the details of this painting as it was painted in varying sepia tones. A miniature city with steeply slanted roofs and scattered towers topped by thin spires appears in the painting. Moreover, there was a wide river in the foreground crossed by a bridge covered with tiny cathedral structures.

"London in 1650," Edward began.

Carlisle a few feet behind me added, "London of my youth."

Edward asked if Carlisle would like to tell the story, but Carlisle explained he was running late and told Edward to tell it. As he knows it better than Carlisle himself. Carlisle then left the room leaving me with Edward and Bella. I later discovered this painting. This city was Carlisle's hometown. "Then what happened? When he realized it?" Bella asked. "When he knew what he had become, he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself but that's not easy," Edward said. The biggest shock was Carlisle jumping and drowning himself but he survived. He was born into another life and was very strong but his instincts were strong and took over everything.

He then grew very hungry and weak. He kept away from humans but his willpower weakened. He wandered nightly for months, loathing himself and seeking the loneliest places. My heart sank with guilt for Carlisle. In the middle of the night, a herd of deer passed through his hiding place. He was so thirsty that he attacked the deer without hesitation. It was then that his strength returned and that there was an alternative to being the vile monster that everyone feared.

"So he realizes that you don't have to kill people for blood," I said. Edward nods his head as he continues. "He made good use of his time. He was always intelligent. He studied at night and planned by day. He swam to France," Edward said.

"He swam to France," Bella said.

Like Bella, I was shocked. Edward explained that vampires didn't have to breathe while swimming. That breathing was just a habit. To continue, Carlisle swam to France and then traveled through Europe to universities. By night, he studied music, science, and medicine. It was at that moment that Carlisle knew he had found his calling in helping people.

It took two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control over blood and now immune to the smell of blood, he can do the work he loves. The hospital was a place where he felt peace. Then he tapped his finger on a different painting that was different from the others in front of us. "In Italy, Carlisle was studying when he discovered the others there," Edward said.

"Others," Bella questioned.

"Much more civilized and educated than the London sewer wraiths," Edward explained. I examined the painting he touched. In the image, it was a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly at the mayhem below them. And there I noticed a golden-haired man named Carlisle painted beside them.

"Carlisle's friends greatly inspired Solimena. He often painted them as gods," Edward said as he pointed them out calling them by name.

"Aro, Marcus, and Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts," he said.

As I heard Edward talking in the background, I stared at the painting hanging on the wall. I looked at the figure on the balcony. I have seen them. I have seen them before. Their hair. Their features. Eyes that show adoration for me. I know them. I realized as I said, "It's them." Bella turned toward me and replied, "What?" I looked at her and pointed at the painting hanging on the wall.

"It's them. The ones in my dreams.

[thebisexualdogdad]

could you write one where Edie and venom have a crush and reader who is a famous NASCAR driver and they hook up after meeting

Eddie Brock x Male!reader

Eddie has been a fan of you for years, he regularly watches Nascar and you were his favorite driver.

It also didn't hurt that you were hot and even Venom had a bit of a crush on you.

You were in San Francisco for a race and Eddie used his connections to get a vip badge so he could meet you.

You were attracted to Eddie the moment you laid eyes on him so him congratulating you for winning the race led to you inviting him out to dinner which led to him now making out with you in your hotel room.

He excused himself to the bathroom before going any further and ran the faucet so you wouldn't hear him talking to Venom who excitedly popped his head out.

"Eddie, you are about to have sex with Y/N Y/L/N," Venom hisses proudly.

"I know Venom so please don't mess this up for me," he whispers.

"How could I mess this up Eddie?" Venom says offended.

"You scared off my last date when you saw a fish market and nearly got me hit by a truck trying to drag me across the street," Eddie says, reminding Venom of that recent disaster where he did not get a second date.

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Venom huffs.

"Be on your best behavior and I will get you whatever you want to eat afterwards, deal?"

"Ooh deal," Venom says, retracting back into Eddie.

Eddie takes a deep breath and turns the sink off, returning to the main part of the hotel room where you are laying on the bed smiling at him.

"Everything good?" You ask him.

"All good," he says approaching the bed and climbing on top of you, "now where were we."

He kisses you and you begin fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

"Can I take this off?" You mutter into the kiss.

"God yes," he groans and then his shirt is gone.

Your own soon follows and you roll him over, his back hitting the mattress but your lips never detaching from one another.

Eddie sighs in discontent when you pull away but it's replaced with a moan as soon as you start kissing down his neck.

His hips roll up into yours when your hand palms his chest, nipples getting hard from your touch.

Your lips move further down, tongue flicking over one of his nipples before sucking it into your mouth while your fingers pinch the other.

He looks for friction against your thigh that's placed in between his legs, moaning as his cock is straining under the material of his pants.

"Fuck I need you so bad," he grunts.

"That's what I like to hear," you smirk, taking your attention away from his chest so you could get the both of you out of the rest of your clothes.

Eddie's spread out across the bed and his cock is standing tall now that it isn't being confined by his pants.

"Do you want me inside you Eddie?" You ask with a grin, running your hands over his massive thighs.

"Please," he begs.

You stick two fingers in your mouth, lathering them before teasing his hole.

Eddie gasps as you insert one finger stretching him out and then the second finger follows.

Your cocks rub together as you toy with Eddie and a string of pre cum leaks out of him.

When you feel he's ready for you you remove your fingers, quickly easing your cock inside him as neither of you could wait for this any longer.

"Holy shit," Eddie cries out as you slowly thrust your hips.

"Does this feel okay?" You question.

"Fuck it feels so good, please go faster," he replies.

That was all you needed to hear, you throw Eddie's legs up around your waist, giving you a better angle as you move your lower half faster.

Eddie grips the sheets under him, intently watching sweat drip down your stomach as you fuck him.

You dig your nails into his hips, his chest arched in the air and he begins playing with his own nipples for more stimulation.

Eddie is a moaning mess for the next several minutes and he's getting close.

"I'm gonna cum," he groans so he reaches down and quickly strokes himself until he's cumming all over his chest.

He's moaning your name as he cums, his orgasm feeling like it's going to last forever as your hips never stop moving.

Suddenly your movements falter and he feels you filling him up telling him that your own orgasm hit.

"Fuck Eddie," you say when you eventually slow your hips all together after your release subsides.

"That was amazing," Eddie says breathing heavily.

"It really was," you chuckle.

Your heart rate returns to normal and you gently pull out of him, cum dripping out of his hole.

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom, grabbing some towels to clean up the mess you made.

"You know, when we met earlier at the race track I intended on this just being a one night stand but I uh, actually really like you," you confess on your way back from the bathroom, handing him a towel.

"I really like you too Y/N," Eddie smiles, sitting up and wiping off his cum on his chest.

"So can I give you my number? Maybe I can fly you out to my race in Dallas next week?" You suggest.

"I'd love that," he happily replies.

You wish he could stay the night but you had an important flight very early the next morning and if Eddie stayed you would surely miss it.

Once you get all cleaned up you kiss Eddie goodnight and when he gets to the hallway Venom pops up again.

"That was so hot Eddie," Venom tells him.

"You're telling me buddy," Eddie laughs.

"If you go to see him in Dallas next week does that mean he's your boyfriend?" Venom asks.

"Okay slow down we have to work our way up to that," Eddie responds.

Eddie's phone dings and he looks to see you had texted him.

'Miss you already' it says which makes him smile.

"Yeah he's your boyfriend," Venom says reading the message over his shoulder.

"Shut up Venom," Eddie scoffs.

One night together and both of you already had it down bad.

[frvnkcastles]

HARD PILL TO SWALLOW ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank asks you out on a date and it doesn’t go exactly as he planned.

Warnings: Feminine nicknames, implied PTSD, self-loathing (from both reader and Frank), hurt/comfort, some language

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: My self-esteem is nonexistent and PTSD definitely doesn’t make it easier but I feel like Frank would accept me as I am and that thought keeps me going a lot. Also, I’m trying to work on some requests that I’ve received, please be patient!! <3

Frank Castle was not a desperate man. He definitely wasn’t a man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Maybe, he’d admit, he could be a bit stubborn when he was in the mood, but he absolutely refused to be the guy who got rejected and couldn’t get over it. He hated those kinds of assholes — so why was it so hard for him to accept you had rejected him now?

He could have sworn you were into him. Shit, he was hardly made of confidence and self-assurance, but for a moment there, he had thought he had had it. Maybe that was on him for taking you for granted, thinking it was going to be an obvious yes.

Still, he had been nervous when he had approached you with the idea. He usually didn’t hesitate to dive head-first into risky situations, but when it came to you, he found himself with trembling hands and a lump in his throat. Although you were shy, you had had a flirty little something going on for a while now, and that had certainly boosted his ego — if you, the usually anxious type, leaned into his cheeky lines, then he had cracked some kind of code.

He couldn’t stop thinking it over. He had shown up outside the school you worked at, surely scaring all of the kids there with his menacing truck and tall and dark appearance. Suddenly, even the wildest children under your care behaved like little angels, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you headed outside and realized what had the kids rushing off of the school premises. There he was, wrapped in all black, a plethora of bruises painted across his features like artwork, and a crooked grin appearing on his face when he spotted you coming his way.

”Frank”, you greeted him with a nod, adjusting the strap of your bag while shuffling your feet in their place. You never really knew how to act around him, something about him made your head spin without fail. ”What are you doing here?” you continued sheepishly, looking around only to find curious moms eyeing you and your guest up and down. The idea of you together only deepened the red coloring your cheeks, wondering what kind of a duo you were to outside lookers.

”I, uh, thought I could maybe pick ya up”, he shrugged — Jesus, Castle, that was the worst way anyone had ever been asked out on a date.

It was obvious on your face, too. ”Pick—pick me up?” you stammered, a nervous laugh escaping your mouth as you readjusted your backpack.

”Lemme rephrase that”, he cleared his throat, ”I wanted to, uh, ask you out. On a date, that is. Was thinkin’ we could get some lunch, y’know? You gotta be hungry after a whole day of takin’ care of these maniacs.”

It was right there and then that he saw your smile falter and the light go out in your eyes. Fuck, it made his stomach drop.

”They do let me eat here, you know”, you chuckled before reaching up to swipe your hair away from your face. ”I’m… I’m flattered, Frank, I am. But I just don’t, um, I don’t think that’s such a good idea”, the hesitation was obvious in your voice, and a little piece of you broke when you saw Frank suck in a breath and duck his head in a shy nod.

”Aight, that’s… Yeah, yeah, no worries, sweetheart”, he reassured while scratching the back of his neck, but there was no denying that the air between you grew tense and awkward, even more so when he continued. ”Lemme give you a ride home, huh?” he suggested, and only landing another blow to his confidence, you pursed your lips in an apologetic smile and took a step away.

”I’ll walk, it’s okay. I’m—I’m sorry”, you struggled, and afraid to find out what his reaction would be, you looked away and headed in the other direction. You didn’t doubt he would have still managed to be sweet, and angry at yourself now, you fought back tears while hastily making your way home.

All Frank could do was stare after you and chew on his lip in thought. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised — it wasn’t like he was a catch, anyway. He had more baggage than most people combined, and the cons to going out with him probably outweighed the pros, there was no denying. He wanted to be proud that he had taken a chance, but as he dragged himself back behind the wheel, all he could think was that he had fucked up a good thing for good.

And so, while he may not have been desperate, he was determined to try and fix things. That was what led him to your doorstep, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand and his best puppy eyes on display — not that he was trying to get your pity, but he genuinely wanted to mend the gap he had driven between you two.

You answered the door quickly after his knock, and he didn’t miss the surprised and maybe even scared look that crossed your face before you managed a smile at him.

”Hey, sweetheart. I wanted to apologize… for being a presumptous asshole, I’spose. I shouldn’t have sprung that shit on you like that”, Frank tried to explain while handing over the flowers, but you scoffed and shook your head at him in complete disagreement.

”Frank, you don’t have to be—”, you began, but he cut you off.

”Nah, hey, I get it. Fuck, I get it, girl. It’s probably dangerous and a lotta work to try and make it work with me, y’know, I just figured… you were worth it”, he chuckled, and you couldn’t help but throw your hands onto your face out of sheer frustration — none of it directed at him, but rather, purely at yourself.

”I didn’t say no because of you, Frank”, you interjected, your hands in the air as you boldly locked eyes with him. ”I accept all of you. Just the way you are. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, I—I really… really care about you, okay?” you insisted, and stunned into silence, Frank gazed at you with soft eyes.

”Then what’s the issue here, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, and with your bottom lip wobbling, you hesitated.

”It’s me”, you whispered, your voice so weak under the weight of your words, you could barely get the words out.

Frank’s eyebrows glued together. ”Whaddya mean? Is it… is it work? Or..?” he asked, sincerely confused, and it only made it harder for you to explain without crying.

”No… No, Frank, it’s—it’s who I am. It’s who this… this stupid fucking disorder makes me. I’m not easy to love. I think—I think it takes a lot of effort to be around me, actually. You haven’t seen me at my worst and I don’t think you’d stick around if you did”, you tried to explain, tears streaming down your face despite your frantic efforts to wipe them away.

Silence enveloped the room in its grasp and your soft sniffles were the only sound to shatter it. You couldn’t help but feel like this already would be enough to scare Frank away; make him realize you were more trouble than you were worth, and you had never been more terrified.

But Frank… he stepped over to you and gently took a hold of your jaw, lifting your head up so he could look into your eyes. ”Sweet girl…”, he murmured, leaning his forehead down to yours. ”Even at your worst, I’d find you the fuckin’ best. Goddamn incredible, ya hear me? Ain’t nothin’ that would push me away, I promise”, he swore, ”you’ve dealt with so much of my bullshit… and you still don’t think you deserve to be cared for, too?”

A sob broke free from your chest, and Frank shushed you gently. ”To be honest with you, I ain’t lookin to just eat lunch together. You have my fuckin’ heart, baby. I want all o’you”, he went on, and a sincere smile stretched your mouth as you shut your eyes and nodded.

”I feel the same way, Frank”, you whispered, and breaking into a smile of his own, he licked his lips.

”Then… it okay with ya if I kiss you now, sweetheart?” he muttered, and with a quiet laugh bubbling out of you, you nodded rapidly.

And somehow, as his lips connected with yours for the first time, it felt like maybe it would work out for the best.

[thoughtsandbones]

It's been a long time

FIRST TIME WRITING A FANFIC - Since i was on LiveJournal (years ago)

Simon 'Ghost' RIley x F!MedicDoc

WARNINGS: Mention of death, blood, fluff and angst?

Song inspo: Think - Kaleida (Love John Wick <3 and Atomic Blonde <3)

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline...

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

(FYI: bold sentences... are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Back again here. That's what you thought when you actually landed at the base. You're trying to calculate how long it has actually been. The years. The months. The days. The hours. The minutes.

Why? Because time is represented by numbers. And a weird number observer you were. Numbers are always assigned to occasions, incidents, blood pressure, mL of drugs, minutes to save a life, seconds wasted.

You furrow your eyebrows. You don't care about the wrinkles forming. Not anymore. You part your lips, and suck in some air.

The tightness of the black boots yet to be broken in like you were once.. were just painful and added pain of sore feet and legs from getting back into training was just a cherry on the icing.

The pain is just temporary... You think to yourself whilst you close your eyes and inhale for 4 through the nose, hold, and slowly breathe out for four, controlled, of course... and gradually open your eyes.

You should be grateful for this chance.

You take in scene before you. Base. Outside Berkshire... mid August...

The sky above is pale shade of blue with hints of orange as the sun sets in the west. It is surprisingly warm and nice today. Minimal clouds. As you look down you see the trucks on the grey charcoal tarmac, smooth and a few cracks here and there.. Buildings behind, patches of green..? Wow.

You couldn't also ignore the soon to be glaring floods lights surrounding the perimeter of the base. Without these, the views of sky where even more phenomenal. The stars. The realisation that there is a sort of weird chaos also going on out there too. The storm of Jupiter must be a sight to see you wonder..

"Corporal Kaur!" You hear a man shout from the left of you.

You break your gaze and see and old man from where that shout came from. Face still stern. Eyebrows still furrowed.

Captain Price.

You recognise that moustache and boonie hat from a mile away.Next to him where to other men, one bulky and tall, donning a half a skull over his face and wearing all black and the other shorter, still tall. but what was most noticeable was the hawk. Both of them staring at you.

You briefly stare back. Your new COs you assume.

You start to walk over to them, carrying your pack, and duffle over your right shoulder.

Back again. Back here facing death again. That's what you think. Over and over as you stride until you reach your old Captain.

You place your pack and duffle on the ground.

"Captain Price" you say, giving in a salute, heels slamming together. Your back straightening automatically when your right arm swung to the tip of your beret. Palms facing out. Always.

Muscle memory is a wonderful thing.

"At ease Corporal" Price says, giving a slight chuckle. His body turns to the two men beside him.

"This is Lieutenant Ghost" Price said as he gestures towards the masked man.

You put out your right hand for a hand shake. The lieutenant just stares at you, eyes cold and calculating watching you.

You raise your head curtly and trying to suppress the smirk from appearing. I'm watching you too you think to yourself.

"I'm your Sergeant; Soap MacTavish" the hawked man said, in a strong Scottish accent. He brings up his hand for a handshake, grinning hard.

You shake his hand. Soap grinned a bit harder.

"Soap and Ghost." You say turning your head to Price after shaking Soap's hand, you see him in the corner of your eye elbow Ghost and gesture towards you with his hand, you couldn't catch what he was saying as Price started giving you directions and something else he

"The team know you're here as their new medic. The infirmary, somewhat set, thought it was best left to the expert to order whatever you need. You remember where it is?" Price said. "I have to go to the hanger, catch up later" He saids, patting you on the shoulder.

"Thank you sir" You reply.

Yes. The team's medic. Not actually part of the team. Not anymore...

Not able to linger on the past for a second longer, you see Soap move towards your pack and duffle.

You grab your pack just before he does.

"I've got it, don't worry" You say, and this time you remember to smile, with teeth, a soft smile that a younger you adorned each day.

Soap laughs gently, and looks at your face, that smile broke your stern face from before, a kindness washed over your face Soap thought.

After picking up your pack and duffle, swinging them both over and onto your back. You stare back at the two men, and smile again.

"Well, I am going.. to get settled" You say to them "Nice meeting both of you" you said as you turn.

"We'll walk ya to the infirmary" The lieutenant said gruffly. You detect an accent, maybe northern?

"Yeah, that way we can get to know you on the way" Soap chimes in, grinning again

Fuck sake, not this already you think to yourself.

You turn to them, and force a smile, this time no teeth, nostrils flare, you hope they don't notice the force of it. Ghost does. Ghost raises his head, eyes widening slightly.

You did not like that Ghost thinks to himself. He crosses his arms across his chest, slightly puffing it out.

He looks at you whilst you relax your face as you looked at him do his little chest puff, your eyes widen, slight glare to the ground and then back to the familiar stern look, he lets out a light huff. Amused at the expressions coming and going on your face. He could've sworn there was hint of pink spreading across that brown skin.

"Price said you've worked here before" Soap continues, trying to ease the tension that was stirring between the three of you as the three of you walk across the tarmac, amidst the other soldiers and trucks driving past.

You stare again at Soap, trying to ease the furrowed brows, but they seem glued to their position. The back of your mind still processing your surroundings.

"Years ago. In my early twenties" You reply to Soap

"Wait, so how old are you now?" Soap asks

You look at him and smile slightly. People get so bewildered when they find out that you're a lot older than you look. Given that your face has hardly a wrinkle, no grey hairs, smooth and "fair" skin (for an Indian) that your mother loves to praise you about after years of her nagging of using SPF 50 daily, especially during winter.

"32" You reply

"Steamin' Jesus" Soap exclaims "You don't look a day over 25" he added

"Yeah, it's annoying getting ID'd when getting a drink though" You say back. You realise the two men are beside you, Soap on your left, and Ghost on your right. Glaring at you still, watching your movements. You're stuck in the middle. A rock and a hard place.

You feel the tension creep to your shoulders. You roll your right shoulder to ease the tension. It doesn't help. Not with the added weight your pack and duffle. You then take duffle off your back, and see Soap on your left raise him arm, again gesturing for him to help carry your stuff.

You raise your left hand and tell him again its okay. You've carried heavier. You've carried limp bodies for longer. You hold the duffle on your right hand, Ghost moves slightly further to make room. You take note and swing duffle, smooth and controlled.

The three of you head straight to building 2. You notice the building as been redone slightly since you were here last, a fresh slick of paint and new doors.

Soap runs up to the doors, and opens them for you, and gestures you through with his right hand. You nod and give a weak thanks.

"We have to keep you sweet" he says "Right L.t?" Soap says, nudging Ghost.

Ghost grunts disapprovingly.

"Why?" You turn to him, letting out a deep sigh. Laying the duffle and pack down on the ground. Suddenly the jet lag, the sore feet and legs hit you harder and you feel like you could just melt into the floor. But you couldn't do that.

"Well, you are our new medic, and you'll be patching us up after missions, so need to keep you sweet" Soap says in a chirpy manner.

"That's her job Johnny" Ghost said, voice rough

You smirk, reaching in your pack for a folder containing your documents and forms.

"Actually..." You start but then remember that even Price said your job role to your face. Medic.

"Actually?" Soap questions

"Nothing" You said, opening the plastic folder and retrieving your forms, you look up and see Soap with a puzzling look on his face and Ghost just coldly still staring.

The anxiety is kicking in. You feel it creep across your chest and swarming it's way to your arms and legs.

You pull out the forms needed and held them in your hand, in between Soap and Ghost, unsure who would take them

"Filled these out as requested by Captain Price" You say

Ghost reaches and grabs the papers, eyes weaving left to right from top to bottom across the forms. You see Soap try and peak and he notices a lot of thick blacked out information. His brows furrow and a curious sheen glosses over his eyes as he looks back at you.

"Most of this is redacted" Ghost says those cold eyes still on the paper. "Like your file" His eyes flicker to yours, hoping to catch you out.

But you stare back. Redacted like your face you think to yourself.

"Captain Price surely would've let you know why" You say curtly

The two men looked at each other. Ghost turned his head towards you, Soap still eyeing Ghost, and then peaking at the paper a bit closer.

No forename, no information of her previous time here... Was Ghost right? Soap thought

"Was hopin' to get somethin' outa' you" Ghost said brightly

He folded the forms into four and put them in his back pocket. He then bent down slightly and picked up your pack and duffle before you could. His eyes wondered up and down your body and your stare turned into a glare when you realised what he was doing.

You felt like he could see through the clothes that covered you. You tug the sleeve of your jacket, rolling your shoulders forward, trying to become smaller. And this man made you smaller. Not by his sheer size, but the way he just looked at you up and down.

"Need a hand Lt? Soap says, breaking the silence again. Hoping to at least try and carry the new medic's stuff.

"Nah, I got this Johnny" Ghost sighs, readjusting the grip on your pack and duffle and swinging them over his shoulder. "Let's show her the infirmary" He said walking off, leaving behind a bewildered Soap and yourself.

You follow the two men, wanting this to be over so you can lie down and sleep. And take the damn boots off. Your feet becoming numb with every step as you follow your commanding officers..

As the three of you reach the door of the infirmary, Ghost drops your pack and duffle from his shoulder to his side, still not letting go and places his left hand in his pocket and takes out a key and unlocks the door.

He looks down at you and you look up at him, you smile weakly, furrowed brows still and try and peak into the infirmary.

Ghost doesn't break his gaze from you, he moves from the doorway and gestures you to go in.

You go in first, the room a warm golden yellow, the light is turned off. The big windows let the last of the sun's rays into the room.

Golden hour.

It's so beautiful you think to yourself and as you move through the room to the window staring at the sunset.

"Best view on this side o' the buildin'" Ghost says, approaching you as you watch the sunset, he gently places your pack and duffle next you.

"It really is something" You say, smiling brightly at the sunset

Ghost sees the shift in your expression in the window, and looks down beside you, your eyes, they appear softer and warm. Not like the ones he experienced earlier.

"Johnny and I will get your room key" Ghost says turning to Soap who was about to take a photo of the sunset with his phone. "C'mon sergeant" as he walks past him and leans against the doorway.

You turn to look at them, Soap desperately trying to take a photo despite the sighing coming from Ghost as he watches him take endless photos of the "sunset". He saw Soap sneak a picture of you.

"Thank you Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Soap" You say, struggling to comprehend these codenames. Ghost you kind of get, given the mask. But Soap? There has to be some kind of gay connotation you think as you remind yourself of the saying 'Don't drop the soap'

The two of them turn to you, Soap smiles and Ghost just staring.

Soap eventually makes his way out past Ghost, and walks out.

"Meet you at the Hole Lt, need to take a piss" Soap whispers as he passes him.

You and Ghost lock eyes as he holds the doorknob and begins to just it close, you make your way over, ensuring that he will actually leave and not linger (like a ghost).

"Thanks again for carrying my stuff" You say, trying the fill the silence and encourage this man to leave.

Ghost's grip tightens on the doorknob, and brings the door closer.

"You are most welcome" He says

You smile again as you edge closer to the door. Leave dammnit

"Ruhari"

The smile on your face disappears, the mouth drops open slightly in an O. Eyes widen in shock.

You see Ghost's eyes wrinkle, a sign he's possibly smiling under that skull mask.

Got ya He thought as the took in the shocked face and closed the door leaving you bewildered on the other side.