#like if a student walks out in front of my truck and i were to hit them they would prob just get to skip class for a few days or whatever

[spiral-wizard]

Nothing will teach you how to drive around excessive amounts of pedestrians like having a job that involves driving on a college campus.

[beachbxtchforev]

I’m Wearing UNC Blue for Him

after you support Rafe at his big game, he shows his appreciation for you on the way home.

pairing: basketballplayer!Rafe x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: 18+, fingering, slow burn, some curse words, use of “baby”

1:37 left on the clock. the Heels lead the Huskies 78-72. Connecticut possession.

this was one of Rafe’s biggest games of the season. going against last year’s NCAA conference champs, UNC needs to pull off this win to secure a top bracket position. the roar of Chapel Hill was mind numbing, your ears were ringing from the chanting that surrounded you. today, you opted to sit with the Cameron’s instead of cheering from the student section because they often secured seats closer to the court. you wanted to be able to see Rafe up close, maybe even give him a glimpse of you showing your support for extra motivation.

the ball is thrown in from the sideline, making its way up the court towards UConn’s basket. their player goes for a layup and makes it. 78-74. 1:24. Kelce checks the ball to Rafe, with the two of them making their way back towards their hoop. UConn’s impressive defense forces the ball to be passed until Rafe can make his way into the paint. he once again gets the ball and is quickly fouled. just as you expected. you hate when the game is close in the end with both teams doing whatever it takes to prevent points.

you stand for Rafe’s free-throws, thumb nail up to your mouth out of habit, feeling the stress of 20,000 fans watching his every move. he bounces the ball, shoots, and sinks it. thank god, now just do it again. and he does. 80-74. 1:10.

the minute left of game play really takes ten, anxiety seeping into your every move. Rafe has the ball with four seconds left, taking a shot from the 3 point line. its in! the Heels win!

you fly out of your seat, hands reaching the air, quickly turning to Sarah at your side to embrace out of relief. Ward high fives you as Rose’s smile beams.

-

Rafe always takes a while to join the group after a game, especially one as big as tonight’s. when he comes out of the locker room you are so excited to see him that you run to jump into his arms. “you did it baby! im so proud of you,” you exclaim as you wrap your legs around his torso. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, pecking the side of your head.

once he lets you go, he shares moments with each of his family members and you walk hand in hand out of the facility.

a winning game day is always your favorite because it ensures a good mood from your boyfriend for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe that last shot you made, you just had to rub the win in their face babe?” you jokingly question as he opens the passenger door to his truck for you.

“what can I say, im tryin to make some noise in prep for the tourney, baby. plus I really want to start getting NBA scouts’ attention.”

you watch as he rounds the front of the truck to get in.“well you got my attention, that’s for sure.” you smile at him, leaning over the center console to give him a peck on the mouth.

putting the car in drive, you guys head back towards his apartment. Drake plays through his speakers as you look out the window at your beautiful campus lit up by the moon. you’re pulled out of your trance by Rafe’s hand reaching out for your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. just like you predicted, he’s in a good mood from his win, so you might as well let him bask in it.

you’re wearing just a UNC vintage pullover that you stole from Rafe and some jean shorts, which you feel his hand working towards. biting your lip and sneaking a glance at him, you decide to unbutton the denim and slide it down your legs, revealing your lacey thong to the darkness of the truck. Rafe’s hand moves higher, grazing over the fabric of your shorts to meet the now bare skin of your hip, while his left hand controls the wheel. you let out a gasp when his fingers dip into the top of your panties, grazing your slit.

his actions are followed by a whimper from your mouth, already feeling yourself getting soaked. however, you have been turned on since you saw him in his Heel blue jersey on the court. his fingers apply pressure, finding your clit and moving in circles. your legs spread, giving him better access as he multitasks his way into giving you and orgasm. what can’t this man do?

“Rafey, inside me. please” you beg, wanting to feel his fingers.

“ya baby? want to get fucked by my fingers? huh?” he teases as he continues to maneuver the truck through the emptying streets.

“y-yes! yes, pl-“ your words are cut off my your own moan as Rafe’s middle and ring finger thrust into your entrance. he too groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers, blood rushing to his cock.

his fingers move in and out, working you open. he adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm can apply pressure to your clit while his fingers work your hole, warmth invading them. he adds a curling motion to his thrusts, finding the spot that almost always has you cumming.

“shit y/n. squeezing my fingers baby? you gonna cum?”

“please Rafe! im so close,” you moan out. band in your stomach ready to snap.

as soon as he turns the truck into the parking garage, fingers moving rapidly, you release, wetness coating his hand, your heavy breaths filling the cab. after a couple more pumps, he removes his fingers from you and slides them between his lips, collecting your juices. you turn your head to face him, hair slightly disheveled and sticking to your forehead.

“you taste so good baby,” he says, as he takes his fingers out of his mouth and tucks a misplaced piece of hair behind your ear.

leaning over to give you a needy kiss, he grasps your wrist, pulling your hand to feel his hardened cock.

“now how about we go upstairs and you give me a three celebratory rounds for that 3 pointer that impressed you so much?

-

let me know what you think ✨

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

[ghostbeam]

1.3k words Bakugou Katsuki x reader, aged up characters, Bakugou is an art student, a little angsty, he’s kind of a huge asshole in this at some point but he’s kind of just trying to get under reader’s skin, I’m so out of practice in writing him I hope it’s okay, set in the same universe as my charcoal artist!Dabi and oil painter!Tomura, sorry if this sucks and is pretentious

Bakugou’s studio is impeccable. 

Everything has a place. His tools are all lined up, hammers and chisels and rasps all hanging from nails stuck into a large board on a wall. Beneath them are three tool carts filled with various electric saws and files, all placed meticulously. Besides that is a hand truck, you assume for moving the bigger sculptures he works on. He has one corner of the room reserved for all of his statues and uncarved stones, the largest ones pushed towards the back. The smallest stones and sculptures sit on tables near by, all set—what you have to guess—an inch apart from one another. There’s a standing desk with shelves of art books and comics beneath it. The entire middle of the room is covered in a tarp that looks immaculate, like he’s never worked a day in his life on top of it, though you know that’s not true judging from the half finished giant stone sitting atop of the clean tarp, tools sitting on the last step of the stool he’s using to reach the top of the sculpture. It’s draws your eyes immediately upon walking in—the stone that looks as though something is crawling from inside of it. 

The last wall is covered in brown sketching paper, three rolls of it mounted on one side so that it can be stretched across the entirety of the wall. The paper is filled with a multitude of sketches and scribbles, notes scrawled across that you can barely read due to the obvious urgency they were written with. 

Being inside of his studio feels personal—intimate—like you’re taking a peak inside of his brain, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to mind. Tearing your eyes away from the giant in the middle of the room, you watch him bring an extra stool to the table he’s cleared for the two of you to work on. 

The project is simple. You’re both meant to agree on one artist with an emphasis on a single medium of theirs. Both a seven slide powerpoint and a six page essay are due about the topic. Bakugou was assigned to be you’re partner. Despite his obvious bad attitude and the constant frown he wears, he was surprisingly open to working with you. You let him pick the artist, but he wouldn’t let you leave without choosing the medium. So even though your interest in your major is slowly deteriorating, you chose the first one that came to mind. 

So now you sit in Bakugou’s studio (brain, heart, soul), listening to him as he explains the importance of your artist during their time period, eyes flickering between the text in your book and the stone in the middle of the room. 

“Stop.” Bakugou’s voice snaps you out of the trance you’re in, swiveling your stool between the textbook in front of you and the stone to your right. You feel his hand come down on your knee, pausing your movements so that you’re facing him. 

“Huh?” You ask, eyeing the size of his hand on your leg. 

“Moving back and forth like that. It’s distracting.” Distracting. If only he knew how distracting his giant stone with the person/monster/angel crawling up out of it has been for you. 

“What is it?” You ask him, spinning your stool again so that you’re facing the unfinished sculpture. His hand slips from your knee. 

He glances at it for a moment before shrugging, “I dunno yet.”

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

“Exactly what I said.” He sighs, already annoyed with the conversation. “I don’t know what it is yet. I have to keep going until I—”

“Free it.” You interrupt, eyes still on the stone. “Until you free whatever’s inside, right.”

He’s quiet for a moment, head turned towards you as you observe his statue. You see him nod out the corner of your eye. “Yeah. I have to free it.”

When you look back at him, there’s an unreadable expression on his face. Gone is the permanent frown across his lips, the harsh line between his eyebrows. You think maybe its curiosity, maybe suspicion. 

What it really is, though, is that Bakugou is suddenly struck with the feeling of being understood. And he didn’t have to tell you a thing. One look at his rocks and you saw it. He’s not sure how to feel.

“I used to feel like that.” You tell him. His frown returns. You recognize that feeling, like something deep inside is screaming to get out, that feeling that you have to set it free or it’ll die inside of you. You used to feel that way every time you pushed your brush into a blank canvas. 

“But you don’t anymore.” He gathers. There’s a harshness to his voice, almost angry, but not angry at you—angry for you. 

“I think I lost it. I think art school sucked the life out of me.” Whatever spark you had died inside of you like you always worried it would. 

“That’s bullshit.” He tells you. He stands from his stool and pulls you up with him. He drags you to the giant stone in the middle of the room, and up close you can see the cross hatching he’s done to it at the top where the limbs seem to start. “You can’t keep your eyes off of this. It’s making you feel something.”

“It doesn’t make me feel anything anymore. You’re just talented.” You shrug.

“I know I’m talented.” He scoffs. “That’s not what you care about. You care that she gets out. You care that I turn this cold, unforgiving piece of solid fucking rock into something beautiful.”

“Or horrifying.” 

“It’s not gonna be horrifying.” He speaks, his lips close to your ear as he keeps you turned toward the stone. 

“You said you don’t know until it’s done.” You shiver.

“No, you said that.”

“You didn’t disagree.”

“Stop fucking—” He sighs loudly from behind you. “Yes, freeing it is a part of it. But I already know what it becomes. I knew the moment I hauled that fucking stone into this room. And you know it too.”

You don’t think you do, but Bakugou says this to you with such conviction, you think you believe him. You turn around, breaking yourself from the hypnosis the rock has put you under. 

“I thought it was weird that you didn’t jump at the chance to choose our artist. I had to practically force you to choose the medium. Maybe art school sucked the life out of you, but you let it.” The truth is harsh, makes you flinch away from him, but his hand reaches out for your wrist to bring you back. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean.” You wrench your wrist from his grip. 

“You think this is mean?” He spits. “You paint, and you sketch, and if you fuck up, you paint over it or you erase it. If you fuck up with this—” his palm slams against the stone in a loud thud next to your head. “—that’s it. It doesn’t forgive you.”

“So what? I’m some kind of lesser artist cause I don’t chip off pieces of stone? Fuck you.” You push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“No, you’re a lesser artist because you gave up.” He takes another step forward, his nose just inches from your own. “Whenever you wanna resurrect whatever the fuck died inside of you, you know where to find me.”

He’s off of you in a second, halfway across the room by the time you catch your breath. Squaring your shoulders, you march your way toward him. You hate that he’s right, even if only a little bit. His sculpture did make you feel something. They all did. You haven’t felt that excitement in such a long time, or that jealous pit in your stomach you used to get whenever someone was so good at something it made you want to be better. You envy him. How could a place that slowly ruined you build and mold a man like him?

“I didn’t give up.” You seethe. He turns towards you, towering over you with that same frown on his face, but his eyes have that familiar look in them from when you spoke about his giant.

“Prove it.”

[lovelytsunoda]

the puppy bowl. | lance stroll

summary: one simply does not wear a joe burrow jersey to the puppy bowl. or, an important fact gets left out of the super bowl party invitation

pairing; lance stroll x girlfriend!reader

warnings: miscommunication, the relationship is still fairly new , kinda gets a bit frisky in like the middle-ish, lance gets wherever the dog version of baby fever is, i talk about lance's tattoo again because its one of my favorite lance related topics.

“brad said the guys are on their way, they’re just stopping to get some beer. you guys want anything?”

yn shook her head, placing a large bowl of doritos on the coffee table, next to a tray lined with soft drinks. “I’m good, you guys know I don’t drink anyways. but if you guys want something go ahead.”

“you sure? not even a coffee or anything?” ella asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I can send brad to tim’s. he won’t mind.”

“go on then, grab me a medium white hot chocolate. has he picked up lance? I haven’t heard from him all morning.”

by the tv, her other roommate, faith laughed. “he’s fine. james took his phone when he got in the truck. last I heard they were singing wonderwall in a liquor store parking lot.”

the girls had lived together for going on five years, an arrangement that had started back in college when they were randomly selected as roommates by the colleges matching system. they survived the three years of hell spent in student accommodations before faiths parents (who owned a property rental company) helped them pool their resources together and get the house together. somewhere along the line, this vaguely sports related party had become a tradition, with their boyfriends joining one by one, starting with brad.

“be nice to him, guys. we’ve only been going out for a few months, and I’d like him to stick around.”

elle giggled. “what, do you think we’re going to haze him?”

she paused, thinking about what had happened to james during his first puppy bowl. “something like that.”

“he’ll be fine! I’m sure he can handle james and brad. they’re harmless.” faith insisted, pulling y/n in for a hug. “I can’t wait to meet him properly.”

there was a knock at the front door that was clearly intended only as a courtesy as they could hear a key turning in the lock shortly after. brad pushed the door open, marching inside with his ball cal on backwards and a six pack of budweiser in his hand.

“who’s ready for some sports, bitches!”

“language!” elle scolded, walking around the couch to give her boyfriend a kiss. it was only a matter of time before they moved in together, but the housing market was harsh and it was more likely brad would be moving in to the rental house than elle moving out of it. “hi sexy.”

slinking in the back and helping james carry some boxes was lance. yn’s heart warmed at the sight of him. his goofy smile, fluffy hair contained in a backwards baseball cap. and was that a cincinnati bengals jersey?

“oh, sweetie, did they tell you this was a super bowl party?” she tried not to laugh as she kissed him gently. “this is a puppy bowl party. we aren’t sports people.”

a slow, horrified look spread across lances face as brad and james burst out laughing. faith rolled her eyes and smacked her boyfriend playfully in the chest, and yn did the same, reaching for a pillow on the couch.

“hey, it was brads idea!” he insisted “hurt him, not me!”

faith smiled apologetically. “I apologize for my boyfriend. hes a bit of a wanker.”

“come on,” yn insisted, tugging lance gently in the direction of the small staircase leading to the backsplit addition. “I’ve still got a few of your shirts in a drawer somewhere that if forgot to give back.”

she was acutely aware of the wolf whistling behind them, followed by a muffled apology from brad. she was also very aware that this was the first time that lance would be seeing her room.

she opened the door slowly, shyly ducking in and closing the door behind them. lance walked towards the bed, taking in the pale blue walls, the collection of postcards tacked above her desk, all the places she had been on the travels. the bookshelves lining one wall, filled with colourful spines. the double bed in the middle of the room, with it’s simple duvet and mountain of stuffed animals.

"don't mind brad and james. they can be a little overzealous when they've been drinking."

lance snickered. "i think james had already had a few by the time we got to costco. try and keep him away from the bud light if you can. get some water in him."

"so that's how you ended up singing wonderwall in the liquor store parking lot?"

she crouched in front of her dresser, opening the bottom drawer and extracting the shirt on top, a linen button down of lance's that hse had borrowed and never given back.

"you listen to frankie goes to hollywood?" lance asked, nodding towards the crates of vinyl records sitting by her desk. "i thought only people my dad's age liked them."

"funnily enough, that crate is all ones my dad didn't want any more." she laughed, tossing him the shirt. "what can i say, i'm an old soul. you've been in the car with me, you know what i listen to."

"i love your old soul." lance encouraged, tugging her closer by the belt loops. she rested her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"need help getting that jersey off?"

lance laughed, stretching up to kiss her. "you know i can never say no to you."

"so if i asked for oasis tickets you could make it happen?'

"do you even have to ask? i will carry you on my shoulders for the whole concert if it means i get to see your face light up when 'don't look back in anger' starts playing."

she smiled softly, kissing him again. "i love you. and it's okay if you can't say it back yet, i just want you to know how i feel."

lance kissed her again, smooth hands traveling over her thighs. "no need. i'm in love with you too. all of you. your old soul, your bright smile."

laughing, she kissed him again, harder this time, her fingers gripping and tugging at his bengals jersey. giggles got caught in clambering kisses as lance picked her up, flipping their bodies over so that he was caging her against the bed. somewhere in the movement, his baseball cap flew off, landing on the hardwood somewhere. he tugged the jersey over his head, mussing his hair and exposing his gorgeous, toned chest.

she ran her hands over his chest, and then over the tattoo on his ribcage, the delicate hebrew under her fingers.

"what does it mean? the tattoo?"

"fortune favours the bold." he said it again in hebrew, his voice soft as he caressed her face.

he leaned in to kiss her again when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"the pre show is starting!" faith shouted "you'd better not be getting naked in there! and if you are, use a condom! i'm too young and fabulous to be an auntie!"

they paused for a moment, staring at each other before they burst out laughing.

"come on, let's head back down. you won't want to miss this, especially if you've never seen a puppy bowl before." yn beamed, slipping out from underneath lance and passing him his shirt. "stay here tonight?"

she could have sworn she saw a blush take over his pale features. "you really want me to?"

"yeah. yeah, i do."

still smiling, the went back to the living room with rosy cheeks and intertwined hands. elle and faith were sitting next to each other on the l-shaped couch, their boyfriends on their other sides. the "L" of the couch was still available, and lance was all to eager to cuddle up with his sweet girl.

"hey, man. sorry about the super bowl thing." brad said apologetically. "we did it to james too, but we meant nothing by it. you're a great guy, welcome to the group."

"thanks man." lance grinned, reaching over to give brad a fist bump.

"guys, guys!" elle shouted. "it's starting!"

"that's him, the cocker spaniel is my guy!" james yelled, jabbing his finger at a cocker spaniel named sparkles that was trotting onto the green.

yn's heart melted as she saw the puppies take their places at the start. if she had the space (or the money) she'd adopt one of the puppies herself.

"we should get a dog." lance whispered behind her.

"babe, where is the dog going to stay? we don't even live together."

"we can coparent." he insisted. "come on, look at that dachshund with the tiny legs and big eyes. is she not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

well, lance had a point there. the doxie, named peanut, was adorable, the way she trotted across the green, trying to tug the squishy football from the mouth of a labrador three times her size.

"one day. i promise you that. but let's get through the housing crisis first." she insisted, kissing lance softly. "let's be dog parents."

her phone buzzed by her thigh where she left it on the couch, the screen lighting up with messages to the roommate group chat.

ellie: he's a keeper! such a sweetie!

faith: keep him!!! you guys are so good together <3

she smiled to herself, resting her head against lance's chest. he curled an arm around her, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

"i love you." he whispered, running a hand up and down her arm.

"love you too." she smiled, sinking into him.

"james!" faith shouted in the background. "no more beers for you! get a goddamn glass of water!"

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 5 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica knows she should just head home for the night, but Jake's sincerity keeps her at Chippy's. He tries to secure a second date and her still elusive phone number as he learns bit by bit just how sweet she can be.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

There was a first time for everything. At least that's how the saying went. Jessica had never been stood up before. But it was the fact that she was completely blindsided by it that really got to her.

It was 7:34. Jake was more than thirty minutes late. He wasn't coming. She had been stringing him along for too long without giving him her phone number. Or maybe she really was just as dull as she thought she was. Regardless, she was going to have to stand up from her table and walk back past the bar and out the front door. Alone. She recognized two of her students sitting a few tables over, and she wanted to cry. Doing this pathetic walk of shame out of Chippy's would be enough to have her in tears on the drive home. She just knew it. 

"Shit," she muttered to herself as she slid off of her stool so her heels clicked against the dirty floor. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then picked up the journals she brought with her along with her purse. Then she tried to keep her face neutral as she nodded at Chippy who looked extremely displeased behind the bar. 

"Night, Reedy," he murmured as she walked past. She wished she could reach the big trash can from this side of the bar, because what sane woman keeps giving a hot man scientific journals all the time? She'd throw them away in the dumpster near where she parked. And then she would go home and reevaluate just how she managed to mess this whole thing up in the analytical way her mind wanted her to. 

She skirted past her students and pushed the door open to the cool, evening air and the sounds of traffic. She managed to let out the breath she had been holding, but now the tears were right there, and she was hoping to get home before they spilled over. 

"Jessica!" 

She knew it was Jake. She knew his voice. She also knew she couldn't run to her car in high heels fast enough before he caught up with her. So she turned toward his voice and waited on the sidewalk as he rushed toward her.

He looked like a mess with grease stains on his jeans. His hair was disheveled, and he was all sweaty. "I'm sorry I'm late," he panted, out of breath with his hands on his hips and his head tipped back as he gasped for air. 

She wasn't sure what to make of him like this. She didn't know if she even wanted to try. "I'm just going to head home," she replied softly, taking a step in the opposite direction. "It's already 7:40."

His eyes looked desperate when they met hers. "Fuck!" he grunted under his breath, broad chest rising and falling rapidly. "Stay? Please? Just let me get you one drink? And we can talk?" He was so handsome, she desperately wanted to cave and still spend the rest of the night drinking cheap beers and eating peanuts with him. 

"Why are you late?" Jessica asked, adjusting her glasses. "I thought you were looking forward to Chippy's." She kind of shrugged like she was already expecting some stupid excuse, and then Jake brought his hand up to her cheek and brushed her hair back with his fingers. 

"My truck was in the shop last week, and it appears to be having problems again. Once it stalled out and I couldn't get it started again, I just left it and ran here. Because I have absolutely been looking forward to Chippy's. And you look beautiful, by the way," he drawled softly, fingers tangled with her hair as his breathing evened out.

"Where did you leave your truck?" she asked, leaning slightly into his touch. 

"By the Starbucks on Collier Avenue," he replied softly, green eyes fixed on hers.

Then Jessica gasped. "That's like five miles away!"

"Mmhmm," he hummed. "I should have just left it there as soon as it died, but I tried to mess with it first. That's why I'm so late. I'm sorry."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. He ran five miles to get here. 

"Yeah. Oh," he said with an edge to his voice. "I emailed your university account, but I figured you don't check it after you're done working for the night. And I still don't have your phone number, or I would have called you immediately."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as Jake closed the distance between them like he was going to kiss her. "If you give me another chance and your phone number, I'll buy a new car before our next date to guarantee I'm on time. Or I can just leave early enough to run the whole way."

She giggled softly. "You're funny, Jake."

He just shook his head and said, "I'm pretty serious right now, Reedy." Then his gaze dipped down to her lips, and Jessica could tell he wanted to kiss her. His fingertips were still gently tangled in some strands of her hair. His body was warm as he crowded her against the outside of the bar, and she was flattered that he ran to get to her. 

"You must be thirsty after all that running," she whispered, tugging on the collar of his shirt. 

He turned his head so his lips brushed along her knuckles, and she gasped as he said, "I'm thirsty for more than beer or water, Jess. But I'd still love to take you inside and get some drinks and some peanuts."

And then she found herself nodding and leading him toward the door.

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

The bartender was glaring at Jake as soon as he held the door open for Jessica, and it just intensified when he let his hand rest on her lower back. "Reedy?" the other man called out, absolutely scowling as he let his fist rest on the bartop. 

"It's okay, Chippy," she replied, glancing up at Jake as she walked toward the only empty table in the dive bar. 

"The bartender is actually Chippy himself? The man, the legend?" Jake asked softly as he pulled out one of the stools for Jessica and watched her set her journals and cute little purse on the table. 

When she slid onto the seat and crossed her legs, she said, "Yes. Don't mess with Chippy. That man was nice to me when nobody else was."

Jake studied her pretty face as she adjusted her glasses. "Who in their right mind wouldn't be sweet to you?"

She looked down at the journals and pushed them aside like she was suddenly embarrassed. "It's been known to happen."

"Shouldn't though," he replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Now let me go mend fences with your main squeeze. I want to be able to show my face in this fine establishment again in the future."

Jessica was smiling brightly at him as he turned toward the bar where Chippy was wiping the same spot with a rag over and over again. "Good evening," Jake said to the older man who still looked like he wanted to snap Jake in half. "Could I get two pints of whichever beer is Reedy's favorite?"

"Sam Adams," he grunted, tossing the rag aside. "And sometimes I get the Sam seasonal kegs for her. When I can." 

Jake just nodded. Chippy was a big fan of Jessica's. He really needed to make sure this guy liked him, and he was pretty sure leaving another massive tip was not the answer. "Right. Two Sam Adams pints then, please."

Without another word, Chippy pulled two beers from the tap for Jake, setting them down a little hard in front of him before he scooped a bowl of peanuts. 

"Thank you," Jake told him as the bowl of peanuts came thudding down next to the beers. 

While Jake dug a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, Chippy grunted again. "She waited a long time for you to show up." His voice was accusatory. 

Jake smoothed the bill between his thumb and index finger, stealing a glance at Jessica a few tables away. She was playing with her hair and reading something with a soft smile on her lips. He turned back toward the bar and met Chippy's eyes. "It won't happen again."

"No. It won't. Because next time I'll kick you out permanently," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you can even manage to get a next time, that is."

"That's certainly the goal," Jake informed him. 

"Well, a lot of men look, that's for sure. And I think she's oblivious to most of 'em. But not you, for some reason," Chippy said, scowling once again. "Handsome and annoying," he muttered. "Be nice to her or I'll kick you out once and for all." Then he reached for the rag again, completely ignoring Jake. 

"Right." Jake picked up both glasses in one hand and grabbed the pretzels, and he headed back to the table and Jessica.

"Did you have a nice conversation?" she asked with an amused expression as Jake slid one of the beers in her direction and sat on the stool opposite her.

He leaned on the table and whispered, "Not particularly. Pretty sure he'd happily kick me out given the opportunity. I had to swear on my life I'd never be late again."

She laughed behind her pint before taking a sip. "His bark is worse than his bite. Mostly. But actually, the head of the chemistry department has a lifetime ban, so maybe not."

"Damn," Jake murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. "Was he late meeting you two times in a row?"

Jessica looked down into her beer, swirling the glass gently, a solemn look on her face. "Something like that...let's just say the fact that Brian Conley isn't allowed in here is just one of the reasons this is my preferred hangout."

"Okay," Jake said softly, wondering if this Conley character had anything to do with the rumors Bradshaw's wife had been telling him about. Regardless, he was going to side with Chippy on this one. Conley could eat shit if Jessica didn't like him. "We hate Brian Conley," Jake told her as they both reached for the peanuts. 

For some reason this got Jessica laughing again. "We do," she said as she picked up a few peanuts and held her hand open to him. Jake rubbed his thumb along her palm before selecting one and cracking into it. "Now, did Chippy tell you I like Sam Adams? Or did you guess from last time we were here?"

Jake tossed the shell on the floor and said, "You think I'd leave that up to chance? I one hundred percent asked him just to be sure. And now I know what kind of beer to buy if you agree to come to my place and let me cook dinner for you."

Jessica froze with her hand in the air, ready to throw her peanut shell. "You know how to cook?" 

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "I love it, actually. I usually meal prep on Sundays after I buy all my groceries for the week."

She was gaping at him. "There are two of you with the uniforms and the kitchen skills?"

Jake laughed, realizing she must have been referring to Bradshaw as well. "First of all, he's married. I'm single." She finally tossed her peanut shell and rolled her eyes. 

"I finally made a friend at work," she said, cracking another shell and throwing this one at him. "You think I'm going to risk that by even looking at her husband for a second too long? No."

Jake tried to keep a straight face as he said, "Nobody's gonna get mad if you look at me all day long, Reedy."

"Tempting," she said before sipping her drink without meeting his eye.

"And," he added, running his fingers along her palm as she handed him more peanuts, "the kitchen isn't the only room where I have skills."

She met his eyes and adjusted her glasses with a smirk. "Care to tell me more about that, Lieutenant Seresin?"

He nodded and said, "I'm really good in the living room, too. You should see how well I can lay on the couch and watch University of Texas football."

She laughed and said, "I almost forgot for a second that you're from Texas."

"How did you know I'm from Texas? And, oh shit... did all those A&M boys already ruin my chances for me? I almost never wear my boots and hats around, I swear."

Jake grinned as she threw more peanut shells at him. "Stop!" she whispered as she laughed, and Jake loved the sound of it. "The only thing they ruined for me is Lone Star beer and line dancing."

Now he was laughing, because yeah, that made sense. "You're a Yankee, obviously. Don't tell the Texans I've been visiting you at work. They won't stand for it."

"Oh, sounds like Romeo and Juliet," she replied. "Except without the balconies, old English, and hermits giving out free drugs to children."

"Wait," he said, now the one who was laughing too hard. "My condo has a balcony."

"Shiiit," she whispered, eyes wide in feigned shock. "I was hoping this was a comedy, not a tragedy."

"Oh, it's definitely a comedy, Jessica. The audience is in riotous laughter over the fact that I still don't have your phone number."

This time she had to cover her mouth with one hand as she laughed. And when Jake glanced toward the bar, Chippy looked decidedly less aggressive now when he met his gaze. 

"You Yankee girls must have a very particular vetting process. You from New York?"

"Massachusetts," she replied, still giggling. "I went to MIT undergrad."

"That explains the Sam Adams. Also, I'm never getting your phone number, am I?" he asked playfully, reaching across the small table and tucking her pretty hair behind her ear again while she laughed. "You've got me showing up to see you at work and running five miles for dates."

"Don't count yourself out quite yet," she said as he stroked her cheek. 

"And you got me reading physics journals on my couch while the college games are on," he added softly. "You brought some more for me to take home?" he asked, dropping his hand and tapping the stack on the table next to her elbow. 

But now she had a dreamy look in her eyes. "You really read them instead of watching the game?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded and said, "Picked one up at halftime and realized I missed the entire third quarter before I was done reading it."

Her lips were softly parted as she blinked at him. "Yeah. I brought you some more. But you have to promise you'll read them all cover to cover."

"I always do."

"Good. You won't be disappointed."

Jake laughed and looked down at the peanut shell in his hand before he tossed it over his shoulder just to make her smile. "I doubt you could ever disappoint me, Jessica."

God, the way she looked at him when he dished out something sweet could probably bring him to his knees. And the thing was, it was never a line. He wasn't throwing out bullshit to see if landed. He meant every word of it. Her eyes were unguarded as they always seemed to be with him now, and he couldn't believe he almost completely blew this evening with his fucking truck. 

It was getting a little late now, and he needed to try to secure the next date while she was still looking at him with those dreamy eyes. He just didn't want her to think he had any certain set of expectations but suggesting his place. 

"You know," he started, "my couch is big enough for both of us to watch some football and read some journals together. I could buy some Sam Adams, and we could make dinner together on Saturday night."

He watched her front teeth sink into her lip. She was hesitating. And it was killing him a little bit. "I think I can make that work," she said slowly, sliding the journals across the table as his heart pounded. 

"Gonna need your phone number so I can text you my address," he whispered, reaching for her hand before she pulled it away. "Please?" 

He drew a little heart on her palm with the tip of his index finger, and a smile bloomed across her face. "You'll find it, Jake. I know you will." And then she slowly closed her hand and stood, leaving him to pick up the journals. "But it's getting late, and Thursdays are early for me."

"Right." He followed her past the bar and watched her wave to Chippy who looked at her with a very kind smile before giving Jake a look of warning. And maybe he needed that warning, because he was looking at the gorgeous swell of her ass and enjoying the way she walked in high heels a little too much. So he nodded at Chippy, and kept his eyes on her wavy hair instead.  

Once they were outside, Jessica dragged the toe of one of her shoe a few inches along the sidewalk as she leaned against the building. "Thanks for the three dollar beer," she said with a smile. 

"You know, I'm pretty sure Chippy would give them to you for free if you were alone."

Her smile turned into another pretty laugh. "You're not wrong. Do you need a ride back to your truck?"

"Wouldn't mind one since I need to get it towed," he murmured, not quite ready to move from this spot where her face looked so perfect in the dim light. "But I'd be more than happy to run the five miles back."

And then her right hand reached up to tug on his shirt collar, and she didn't look so hesitant now as he eased himself closer, letting his hand rest on the wall next to her. "You have a peanut shell in your hair," she whispered, releasing his collar and brushing her fingers along his temple. 

Jake swallowed hard. His lips were just a few inches from hers as he softly said, "That's probably because a beautiful woman was throwing them at me."

Her laugh was quiet and breathy, and then the space between their lips was negligible. And then she was kissing him with her small hand wrapped gently around his neck. Jessica was smiling against his lips, and he wasn't used to it being this sweet. He didn't kiss the girls from the bar like this, and they never teased his cheek with the tip of their nose or ran their thumb delicately behind his ear. 

Oh, he was going to crave this now. Soft, exploratory kisses that tasted like beer and peanuts. And the sound of her soft moan as he let his hand trail from the wall near her shoulder down along her side to her waist. Yeah, this was going to become a necessity for Jake. 

She brushed her lips along his again before looking up at him with surprised eyes as he held her a little tighter. And then six more little kisses while her hand trailed down his neck. "I was really afraid you stood me up earlier," she whispered, trailing some kisses along his chin.

"I wouldn't do that, Baby. You have any idea how much I wanted tonight to happen?" Jake had one hand full of physics journals and one hand full of Jessica, and he was already thinking about what he might cook for dinner on Saturday night. 

With a soft laugh, she started to lead him down the sidewalk to her car. And he got to do even more things he never really did. Like open her car door instead of call her a cab at two in the morning. And lean over from the passenger seat and kiss her cheek gently as she started the engine. 

"What's your day looking like tomorrow, Dr. Reed?" he asked, linking his fingers loosly with hers for the short drive to his truck. 

"Department meeting, lectures, more lectures, a lab, and then my office hours."

Jake's mind was already working on a plan. "I have a long day ahead of me, too. There's my truck," he said, pointing to the piece of shit he was afraid he was going to have to replace. 

Jessica pulled up next to it and put her car in park, but when she reached for the key, he covered her hand with his. "Just leave me here. I'll get it towed to the garage again and then get Bradshaw to drive me home from there. I want you to go right home. It's late and it's dark out."

Jake wrapped her hand around the steering wheel again as she said, "Okay." But the single word was muffled by his lips crashing against hers. He kissed her long and hard one time, and her glasses were a little crooked when he was done. He straightened them out before he reached for the door handle. 

"I had a great time tonight. I'm sorry I almost ruined it by being late."

"You made up for it by running five miles," she whispered. "Night, Jake." 

And then he was watching her pull back into traffic as he called for a tow truck, keeping his eyes on her brake lights until they were out of sight. Just for good measure he looked up some new trucks for sale as he sat behind his steering wheel, but that got boring after a few minutes. And then he thought about the way Jessica told him she was confident he would find her number. 

He lunged for the journals sitting on the seat next to him, and he spread them out to read all the covers. His eyes caught on an edition of Applied Physics from late last year that said Jessica Reed, PhD. on the cover under an article title about combustion in jets. 

"It's gotta be," he whispered as the tow truck arrived, and he frantically flipped to the page where her article had been printed. He would read the whole thing later. He wanted to read the whole thing later. But right now his eyes settled on a small, handwritten note. He recognized her writing from the mini lecture he'd accidentally attended, and a smile crept along his lips. 

Jake,

If you made it this far, you can call or text me anytime. 

Her number was written beneath it, and he was entering her as a contact in his phone when he got out to talk to the tow truck driver. He felt like he just won the lottery as he added the picture of her he had saved from the San Diego State University website as her contact photo. 

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes. 

It was getting very late now, and maybe she wouldn't respond until tomorrow, but Jake felt like he was on cloud nine. He just kept thinking about how sweet Jessica was. About how he wouldn't mind wrapping her up in his arms for some more soft kisses on his couch. 

Once the driver was unloading his truck at the garage, Jake opened a different contact on his phone and made a quick call. 

"It's 10:30, Hangman. This better be important."

"Bradshaw. I need a ride home from the garage. My truck is acting up again," Jake replied, trying not to smile at how annoyed Rooster sounded. 

An exasperated sigh carried through the phone, and then Jake could hear his wife in the background asking, "Who is it?"

"It's Hangman. He needs a ride."

"Oh, well we can always finish this later, Beer Boy." His wife sounded less annoyed than him, thankfully. 

After a brief pause, Bradshaw said, "Give me twenty minutes. I need to get dressed."

"Thanks. Much appreciated," Jake replied. He dropped his keys into the overnight box with a note telling the mechanic he was having the same issues as last week. And then he waited for that blue Bronco to pull into the lot, and when Jake climbed in, Bradshaw looked pissed as hell. 

"Do you have any idea what my wife was about to do to me when you called?" he growled, shifting into reverse before Jake even had the door closed. 

"Come on, man. Your wife's hot, but I don't want to be imagining what the two of you get up to."

"She was about to reprimand me for turning in sloppy math homework," he said, completely disregarding Jake. "And I'm virtually sure she will no longer be in the mood for that when I get back at 11:30. So you owe me. I don't even know what you owe me yet, but it's going to be big. Because I'm assuming you expect me to give you a ride to work in the morning, too."

Jake cleared his throat and said, "If you wouldn't mind."

"Fuck," Rooster growled as he pulled up to Jake's condo building. "I'll pick you up at 7:30. Get the fuck out."

"Thanks," Jake said, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. Jessica had just texted him back, and he was all smiles even as the Bronco peeled away. He was in.

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

As Jessica undressed in her bedroom, she ran her fingers along her lace bra. She wondered what Jake's favorite color was, because she probably owned a pretty matching set that she would love to wear for him. She should have known this was going to happen; one kiss from him, and she was thinking about spending a lazy Sunday in bed with her fingers tangled in his hair. 

"Stop," she told herself half heartedly with a dreamy smile in the mirror. She'd given him the journal with her number inside, and now she just had to wait. He'd probably find it by tomorrow. Maybe she would see him at her office hours again. Her whole body was tingling with excitement as she unclasped her bra, and then she heard the ping of her phone notifications. 

She tossed her bra and bounded across the room in just her panties and saw a text from an unknown number. 

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes. 

She squealed as she flopped down onto her bed. He was good. It took him almost no time to find her phone number. She typed back a message as she thought about his big hands and his southern drawl. After she hit send, she closed her eyes and imagined everything she wanted to do to him in her office as she let her fingers glide along her body.

Don't forget the Sam Adams. See you on Saturday.

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

Yes! You run those five miles, Jake! Anyone else just love Chippy? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

@blahehblah

@sotalife

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@rosiahills22

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@je-suis-prest-rachel

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@whatislovevavy

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[in1-nutshell]

Hello! Can I make a request?

Like let's say a teacher called in sick and the students were allowed to leave early, but there is a problem…

Arcee, Optimus, bumblebee, and Bulkhead are away on a mission, everything was going fine until they got attacked by Decepticons.

Ratchet is at the base, but he can't leave because what if the others needed him to open a spacebridge and he wasn't there?

The only one available is Maxima, she had left the base early to go and strech her tires.

What if Team Prime had no choice but to let Maxima pick up the kids?

Just imagine faces of everyone upon seeing a freaking monster truck at school and not only that, but also seeing Miko, Jack, and Raf get into said truck!

HA! Love this concept!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima picks up the kids from school

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Cybertronian reader

TFP

There were times that Maxima hated having the alt mode she had.

One of the main things was that she could never go to town without raising too many questions.

This also limited her area in being a guardian or even a sub guardian!

She was given guardian duties only at the base.

Even Ratchet had sub guardian duties!

…But then again, he was an ambulance something less discrete than a monster truck.

So, forgive her for making a full stop when Ratchet told her that she needed to pick up the kids.

Maxima: “Ratchet, you do realize that my alt mode isn’t exactly… normal, right? Is there literally no one else?” Ratchet: “I know Maxima, but right now the rest of the team is out on a mission, and I cannot leave my post.” Maxima: “What if we traded places?” Ratchet: “Maxima this is not up for debate, besides your closer.” Maxima: “Then how am I—wait a minute, I got an idea! Just gotta make a quick stop…”

The kids had no idea what to expect today.

It was getting late and there was no side of their guardians anywhere.

Not even a single phone call!

A huge shadow suddenly engulfed the trio.

The trio were shocked to see Maxima’s alt mode in the drive.

The doors opened revealing Agent Fowler and Maxima’s holoform in the front. Fowler: “C’mon kids, it late.” The kids excitedly started climbing in when a shrill voice spoke. It was Sharon, one of the most annoying PTA parents to ever grace the schools’ halls. Infamously known for her calling… Sharon: “EXCUSE ME!” Sharon glared at the kids inside the truck. Sharon: “And wait do you kids think you’re doing?! Get down from there!” Maxima pokes her head out the window. Maxima: “Is there a problem ma’am?” Sharon glares at her: “Yes! This vehicle is not suitable for picking up children! I should report you for it!” Maxima: “I’m just picking the kids up ma’am. No harm done.” Sharon’s face turned red. Sharon: “My husband is a police officer! I can have you ARRESTED MISSY!” Agent Fowler’s head pokes out the window. Fowler: “Is there a problem ma’am.” Sharon: “There’s going to be a problem if you don’t pick these children in a suitable car!” Fowler: “Miss, this was the only vehicle avail—” Sharon: “I WILL HAVE YOU ARREST YOU BIG, FAT— ARGH!!!” Sharon pours her hot coffee on Maxima’s tires and spits on them. Maxima’s holoform winces a bit. That was going to be a pain to clean… Fowler shows her his badge: “Special Agent William Fowler to you.” Sharon quickly shuts up and quickly runs back to her car.

Maxima quickly got out of that town using every suitable backway she knew before speeding down the dusty road.

She had disabled her holoform once they all got to the base.

Thankfully the team had arrived a few minutes earlier

Maxima had opened the doors for the humans to get out.

Maxima is about to transform but Miko waves her arms. Miko: “Wait! Wait!” Maxima: “Huh? Miko?” Miko: “Just wait here! Boys cm’on!” The trio went off to one of the supply closets. Bulkhead: “What’s with that?” Maxima and Fowler: “Sharon.” Bulkhead and Arcee cringe at the name while Bumblebee whirled a bit angrily. Maxima: “Yeah… she spat and pour coffee on my rims.” Miko, Jack and Raf walk out with buckets of water, soap and drying rags. Maxima: “Umm, what’s all this for?” Raf: “Helping you clean the coffee, spit and dirty from your rims.” Maxima tries to ignore the swelling in her spark. Maxima: “Seriously its not—” Miko: “Shush! Play with the rubber duck while we clean.” Maxima chuckles a bit as Miko places the duck in her dashboard as the others got ready to clean her rims. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

Visual representation of what Maxima wanted to do to Sharon when she saw muddy puddle near her the next day...

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P12 | THAT'S NOT LEGAL???

You're seated at the rest area, nursing a latte as you scrolled down your Twitter feed mindlessly. Mark saw you and gulped, walking over to you slowly. He wanted to call you out but you beat him to it, snapping your head to look at him before nodding at the empty seat before you, silently telling him to take a seat.

"...hey..."

"S'up." You deadpanned, putting your phone down on the table.

Mark darted his eyes elsewhere for a millisecond before looking back at you. You were still pissed at him, that's obvious, but you weren't telling to fuck off anymore so that's a sign you were willing to hear him out. Good.

"...I want to apologise. To you. For my...uh, for being—"

"For being a major asshole? For being a raging bitch? For acting like you had a 10 foot dildo stuck up your ass?" You finished his sentence for him in the same deadpan voice, and your choice of words made him wince.

"That's kinda misogynistic." He let out, you raised a brow at him.

He clammed his mouth shut when you narrowed your eyes at him. You rolled your eyes to the side when he started to stare at the table, obviously not having the strength to bear the shame and embarrassment.

"It's not like I don't get why you can't stand me, but since you asked for a strictly professional relationship, that's what I was kinda expecting, you know? If this is your way to get back at me, then you succeeded. I almost took up Yangyang's offer to have you jumped." You snorted before taking a sip of your latter.

Mark rubbed his face and started to shake his head at your words, not liking what you were accusing of him. He wasn't trying to be difficult to piss you off or to get back at you for hurting Jaehyun all those years ago—he was just being careless. MNA week was important to him and his faculty, why would he try to sabotage that?

"No, you have it wrong. I didn't have a hidden motive—I was careless and let...let our history cloud my judgement, okay? And I'm sorry for that. I won't let it affect our task anymore." He sighed, rubbing on his temples with his eyes closed, so he couldn't see the heartbroken expression you wore before you got rid of it.

I won't let it affect our task anymore.

He was apologising for being an asshole because it almost ruined your task and not because he felt guilty that he made you feel shitty. Maybe you should let Yangyang and his friends jump him while Aeri wrecks his social rep.

You scoffed at your own heartbreak and stood up, making him snap out of it. You held back your tears, composing yourself as you looked around the festival and pulled up the mental list of the entrepreneurial students you wanted to invite.

"Fine. Whatever. I accept your apology. Come on, I already picked out some student stalls that might catch your eye."

You walked ahead of him but made sure he could still catch up. You were seething quietly, cursing him out while he walked right behind you. What did you expect, anyway? He already said you were dead to him, why would you think he would feel bad about making you feel shitty?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Can you do me a favour?" You asked, squinting your eyes at the road lights above you at how dim they were.

"What do you want?" Mark asked tiredly, holding himself back from rolling his eyes as he remembered he did owe you a favour or two already.

"Can you stay with me while I wait for my ride?" You asked with a sigh, looking down the road to see if Geonwoo was arriving.

At your request, Mark looked around and saw that the sun was already set and there were barely any students left near the Art Faculty. Even if you didn't ask, Mark would've offered anyway. As much as he hated you, he wouldn't wish anything bad to happen to you.

"Sure. Whatever. I owe you a favour anyways." He shrugged.

It didn't take long for Geonwoo to arrive, but to your surprise, he also brought along Woojin. An unfamiliar truck with dark tinted windows stopped in front of you and Mark, and seeing that you didn't recognise the vehicle, Mark stood in front of you as the driver's seat window started to roll down.

Your eyes lit up from behind Mark's shoulder when you saw Geonwoo's face behind the wheel, grinning at you. You could see Woojin smiling at you from the passenger seat too.

"Oh, it's Geonwoo! And Woojin too! Is this truck new?" You asked cheerfully, finding the mirth in Geonwoo's grin infectious.

"Yep, just brought it! Nice, isn't it? Hop on in, y/n. And you too, mister—let us drop you off, it's late anyway." Geonwoo's eyes disappeared as his grin widened as he looked at Mark.

Mark thought it wouldn't be so bad to arrive at his apartment 30 minutes earlier than he always would by letting them drop him off rather than taking the bus. However, he was a little weirded out with the men who looked way too old for any of them to be your boyfriend. They looked like they were in their early 30's while you were still a college undergrad. The driver calling you 'their y/n' rubbed off wrong on him.

"Just take up the offer." You muttered in a deadpan tone as you walked past him to open the backseat door.

Mark thought, 'fuck it', and entered the car anyway. He told himself you were nothing more than a coworker to him at this point, so he didn't really want to care what your relationship with these men were.

Both of you sat on opposite ends, as far away from each other as possible. Geonwoo raised an eyebrow at the obvious tension between you two but decided against commenting on it. As the car moved, Woojin took out your unit's spare access card that they always had for emergencies.

"Make sure to give this back to us by this week. This is the only copy of your unit's access card that we have." Woojin spoke offhandedly, and you nodded as you took it off his hand.

Mark glanced at the access card in your hand before looking at Woojin and Geonwoo. Why did they have your unit's spare access card? What was your relationship with them anyway?

"Sorry for all the trouble." You apologised sincerely, and Geonwoo shook his head as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

"It's alright, y/n. Also, where does your friend live? Since we're dropping him off and all." Mark's eyes met with Geonwoo's through the rearview mirror and the younger man could see the driver was smiling as he asked that.

"Oh, drop me off at Golden Hour Apartment Complex. Um, and thank you for letting me hitch a ride with you guys."

"It's all good, kid. What's your name, anyway? We wanna thank you properly for keeping y/n company while she waited for us." Woojin asked, good-natured and appreciative.

"Oh—it's Mark Lee. You can just call me Mark."

The way both men froze made you panic momentarily while Mark missed the way Geonwoo's forearm flexed and Woojin's head snapped to the side.

"Mark, huh?" Woojin's voice cut through the sudden silence.

"Yeah...?" Mark voiced out hesitantly, feeling like he said something he shouldn't have.

When the car stopped for a red light, both Geonwoo and Woojin fully turned their head to look at Mark closely, making you pray to God that Mark wasn't weirded out with their sudden scrutiny.

Woojin extended his arm to Mark and the clueless collegiate took it, holding back a wince when Woojin gripped on his hand more than just firmly—Woojin was squeezing on him hard that it borderline hurt. You cursed at your overprotective bosses' weird behaviour from inside your head.

"Thank you for keeping our y/n company, Mark."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Mark watched as the truck drove off. No matter how much he wanted to say he didn't care who those guys were to you, he had to wonder if Yangyang had been telling the truth. They were weirdly protective over you, they had your unit's access card, they were obviously rich.

Were they your sugar daddies?

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : y/n is wondering why was she cursed with weird ass bosses like geonwoo and woojin

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [OPEN]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r

[angstywaifu]

Shut up. Make Me. Ruhn Danaan x Reader

What better way to announce I am writing for the Crescent City boys, than writing for my favourite one Ruhn Danaan. This man.... god damn. If anyone has requests for this man please send them through. I have a lot of requests at the moment, but I promise I am getting through them!

Masterlist

People we’re everywhere. As was the norm for any party the boys had. Luckily the street they lived on housed mostly CCU students so they we’re also having their own parties or came and joined Ruhn’s. As I walk up the pathway to the house familiar faces smile and wave as I pass. I do my best to return them all. I had never missed a party these boys threw since I met them back in my days at CCU.

None of them had attended CCU, but I had run into them at a dive bar after a late night class. They had claimed the pool table and were having a competition to decide the best pool player amongst them. I had laughed at their antics, which had drawn their attention to me. And that was it. Since that night where I had promptly kicked all their asses at pool, we had been attached at the hip. But I had drawn my line at living them, instead choosing to keep my own apartment in the city. As soon as I walk through the door, the smell of mirthroot, sweat and alcohol hits me like a truck. Clearly the party had started earlier than normal if the smell was that strong already. I weave my way through the crowded house, doing my best to avoid the sweaty bodies. I break through the crowd to see Flynn, Dec and Marc standing around the pool table, Flynn and Dec in the middle of a pool game. I walk over and join Marc who is sitting on a stool watching them.

”Whose winning this time?” I ask him as Flynn and Dec proceed to argue about a shot that Flynn had just made.

Marc laughs and shakes his head. “Honestly neither of them are. They’re tying at the moment, but they’ve been at this for a few hours.”

As I watch them bicker I know this has been a regular occurrence tonight. Was a normal occurrence anyway with these two. So competitive. I’m almost thankful Ruhn isn’t part of it cause the argument would be way louder. But regardless of that I can’t help but scan the room for him. Seeing as I can’t find him as easily as I normally can I know he must be elsewhere. Probably off trying to convince some girl to go upstairs with him. Though it never took much convincing when you’re the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Females practically threw themselves at him with the hopes of going to bed with him, and even more hopes of it turning into more. As much as Ruhn slept around, I knew the instant he found a female he wanted to pursue more he would be all in. But his father looming over his shoulder stopped him from doing so. The pressure of an arranged marriage from him also lead Ruhn to never pursue a female for more than just a casual hook up.

”He’s outside talking to Bryce.” Marc says as to me before taking a drink from his glass.

I roll my eyes at him. Damn him being so perceptive. “I’m not looking for him.”

He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “You are, you always do. And the fact you knew who I meant instantly only confirms it.”

”She looking for our boy Ruhn again?” Dec teases.

I turn to see him and Flynn leaning on their pool ques looing at me with mischievous grins.

”I am not.” I say sternly, causing all three males to laugh at me.

”Honestly, you two just need to fuck and get it over with.” Flynn muses as he walks over to grab a drink from the table Marc and I are sitting in front of.

I smack his shoulder. “We do not. And we don’t see each other that way.”

Flynn just laughs before leaning towards me, the smell of mirthroot and alcohol thick on his breath. “And I’m not the next in line to take over from my father.” He muses in a teasing tone.

I push off the stool and push past Flynn who continues to laugh at me.

”Oh come on Y/N, we’re just teasing.” Dec calls out to me.

I turn and smile at them, “And I need a strong drink before I can deal with you lot.” I call back before flipping them off and disappearing into the crowd to find a drink.

The kitchen is full of various types of alcohol. Various punches line the benches, crates of beer and other pre mixed drinks scattered around, and a giant collection of spirits and mixers. Plenty of options to deal with the teasing and banter of that lot. I head for the spirits and mixers, knowing I can make as strong of a drink as I want.

As I head over, movement of very familiar red and black hair catching my attention through the window above the counter. Outside Ruhn and Byrce lean up against the railing of the deck, looking out over the yard filled with more party goers. I curse myself as my heart skips a beat at the sight of Ruhn and hope he isn’t paying attention or he’s had enough mirthroot and alcohol to not hear it through the wall. I turn my attention back to my drink, pouring in a few different spirits and flavourings before adding my mixer. As I raise my head to place the bottles back in a safer spot on the counter my eyes flicker up, and meet the intense stare of Ruhn who is now leaning on the railing looking at me as Bryce talks to him, completely oblivious to the fact that Ruhn’s attention isn’t focused on her in the slightest. A smirk forms on his lips as he raises his drink to me. I raise mine back before throwing him a smile and walking back through the house to the pool table where Flynn and Dec are once again arguing about their game of pool.

”Bloody hell, I can smell that from here.” Marc says as he crinkles his nose as I sit next to him

”I told you I needed a stronger drink to deal with those two and their stupid opinions.” I say as I raise my drink to my lips. The drink was very strong indeed. The liquid burning its way down my throat. Marc laughs as I lower my drink and grimace as I swallow it.

”Not opinions if its the truth sweetheart.” Dec teases with a smirk.

I roll my eyes at them again and shake my head. “It isn’t. So get that idea out of your little brains. It ain’t happening. He doesn’t see me that way.”

”Who doesn’t see you that way?” An all to familiar voice says from right behind me.

I go rigid in my seat, earning a snicker from Marc. I know instantly who is standing right behind me. So close I can feel the heat from their body. His smell envelops me instantly. A smell that instantly calms me, and has put me to sleep the few times I’ve slept here and he’s insisted I take his bed over the couch.

”Oh just some guy that’s been pinning over her for years, and she can’t see it.” Flynn drawls with a smirk of his own.

Bastards knew exactly what they we’re doing. And their smirks only widen as I glare at them. Thankful Ruhn was still behind me unable to see it. Ruhn whose scent changed ever so slightly. A slight increase in his heart rate. It was a smell I had never scented on him before. What was that?

”Anyone we know?” Ruhn asks as he steps up next to me and looks down at me.

Ruhn’s face is unreadable as he looks at me. Not one hint of what that change in his scent could have been. Must have just been something he had taken or drank. Something new. That had to be it. Right?

I shake my head as I avert my gaze from him down to my drink clutched in my hands. “Maybe in passing. But it isn’t important. I am not having my hypothetical non existent love life become the topic of discussion.”

Ruhn shrugs and seems happy with my answer before walking over to Flynn and Dec, who are getting closer to finishing their game. This would be the decider from what I could pick up from their conversation over the loud music. I feel another familiar presence and look over to see Bryce pulling up a stool, Hunt close behind her. Yelling from the pool table pools my attention from Bryce back to the boys, to see Flynn dancing around the table with his hands in the air. Clearly the victor of the game judging by Dec’s slightly annoyed face as he walks back over to us, wrapping an arm around Marc as he leans into him.

”You may all bow to your winner.” Flynn says as he places an arm around Ruhn and drags him over to the group.

”I’d rather jump in the Istros than bow to you.” Bryce says without missing a beat.

Flynn purses his lips and narrows his eyes at Bryce as we all burst into fits of laughter. After the shit he had given me tonight he deserved it. But the reality was, those of us who were Fae might actually have to bow to him one day when he took his fathers title. So ironically there was some truth to his comment. But something tells me Bryce would actually jump into the Istros just to prove a damn point. Probably with Tharion nearby to deter anything that might lurk below. Bryce and Flynn start their usual bickering, Hunt rolling his eyes while looking torn between annoyance and amusement, Dec shaking his head before turning his attention to Marc, and Ruhn removing himself from Flynn before walking over to me.

”Bloody hell, what the hell did you put in that. Can smell it from here.” Ruhn remarks, scrunching his nose similar to Marcs earlier.

”That’s what I said when she walked over with it.” Marc comments before turning back to Dec.

”And as I said before, I needed something strong to deal with those two idiots.” Motioning towards Flynn and Dec.

Ruhn simply shrugs his shoulders and nods, well aware of some of the antics our two closest friends go up to. It often made for some interesting nights out, and a lot of stories. God forbid the day any of us have kids. We would all have stories to tell them. Despite his agreeance though, Ruhn reaches out and takes the drink from my hands, pouring the contents into one of the house plants. I go to object but Ruhn simply grabs my hand and drags me back to the kitchen, leaving our friends behind.

”I was drinking that.” I say bluntly as he guides me over to a bench before moving around the kitchen and grabbing bottles.

”Yes you were, and I am not letting you drink that.” He tells me bluntly as he starts making something.

There was one thing I couldn’t deny. Ruhn made a damn good drink. He was often making drinks for those who wanted it. And he usually took it upon himself to be the one making mine. It was rare I would make my own. And clearly the way I had made this one didn’t make him happy. And soon he is holding a new drink out to me that smells far nicer and way less potent than the one I had made myself. This time as I drink it barely stings my throat.

”Better?” He asks as he leans up against the counter next to me, another drink clasped in his hands as he looks down at me.

I look up at him and nod enthusiastically, earning a chuckle from him. “Way better.”

”Good.” He says as he grabs my hand and pulls me from the kitchen.

Ruhn leads me effortlessly through the crowd that parts for him with ease. The benefits of being a Crown Prince and next in line. As he pulls me outside I don’t miss the smirks from our friends watching as he leads me outside. I lift the hand grasping my drink, doing my best to give Flynn who has decided to make do kissy faces in my direction a vulgar gesture which has the others laughing. Out the back is far quieter than inside and the yard out the front. It seems most people wanting to keep close to the alcohol and mirthroot that was on hand. Which I was grateful for. As much as I loved partying with these guys, it always gave me a slight headache with the constant noise. I know Ruhn was the same, we would often end up escaping upstairs to his room, go for a walk, or find our usual spot out the back where he was taking me now. Out the back, behind a large tree was a couch he and I had dragged here years ago. We had claimed it as our spot immediately, which was easy as the other two didn’t seem fussed on it. Meaning it was our spot to get away from them and have time just us. I couldn’t deny that out of the three boys I got along with Ruhn the most. We just clicked more, understood each other more. Which is what made falling for him oh so easy. Way to easy. But I had held back my feelings and buried them as best I could for the last fifty years. Ruhn was a Crown Prince, and I was… Well I was just me. Ruhn sits down on the couch, pulling me down next to him, pulling my legs over his lap as I lay across the couch in my usual spot. Ruhn’s hands running up and down my legs like he always did. A gesture that always had Goosebumps forming on my arms, and a chill running down my spine that I always had to try and hide.

”I didn’t think you were coming tonight. Not like you to turn up this late.” He states as he rests his head on the couch and looks towards me, his blue eyes piercing into mine.

God damn those beautiful eyes. “Yeah some stuff came up at work and I had to stay back late. You know I would never miss a party.”

He chuckles and smiles. “This is true. I would be very upset if you had broke your streak of never missing a party.”

I roll my eyes and reach up and shove his shoulder. “You would have lived. Some party girl would have come and distracted you.” I tease.

”Trust me, you coming to these parties is the highlight of them. Those girls don’t matter.” He muses.

”Don’t let them hear you say that. Might break their hearts.”

He shrugs. Ruhn who usually appears so cocky and smug about the girls who come at him when the boys bring it up. But here, just the two of us he doesn’t seem phased by the topic of the girls.

”Just an added bonus I guess. Something to keep my mind off the impending doom of my arranged marriage.” He drawls before taking a big chug of his drink.

”Could have a worse arranged marriage. Hypaxia seems nice, and she is gorgeous.” I wasn’t lying. I had only briefly met her, but she had been so lovely. Back then none of us had known who she was. And now she was betrothed to Ruhn.

He nods and smiles slightly. “This is true. Would still rather be getting married to someone I actually loved though.”

”Who would be your ideal girl then? Who do you see marrying if you had a choice in the matter?” I ask in an attempt to lighten the conversation.

Ruhn laughs and shakes his head before downing the rest of his drink and looking up at the sky. “Someone I can be myself around and who doesn’t care about my title or what I am. That can look past all of that and just see me for me. Who wants to have fun and enjoy life. Maybe someone willing to run away with me from all this. Someone that screams a massive fuck you to my father.” He holds his hand up and gives a vulgar gesture to the sky making us both laugh before Ruhn turns and looks at me. Really looks at me.

”Couldn’t agree more about someone sending a massive fuck you to your father. I’d love to see that.” I muse as I sip my drink.

”Would be rather satisfying wouldn’t it.” He says softly, the joking tone almost gone from his voice.

”It would be. Hell I would love to send a massive fuck you to your father myself if he didn’t scare the hell out of me.”

”What if you could?”

I furrow my eyes at Ruhn who shuffles towards me. “What do you mean what if I could?” My heart beating loudly in my chest.

Ruhn edging closer me, my butt resting against his leg as he cradles my legs against his chest as he looks at me. I vaguely register the increase in his heart rate before mine starts hammering in my chest.

“What if you could send a massive fuck you to my father? What if I had a way that you could?” Ruhn whispers.

Ruhn stares at me in a way I’ve never seen before. As if I am all he ever needs. All he wants. I vaguely register the slight change in his scent. Arousal and… was that… me? I panic and push off the couch and out of Ruhn’s grip, my drink falling to the ground spilling everywhere. I turn and look at Ruhn who has also stood and is standing a few feet away from me watching me intently. His purple eyes looking worried and scared. His nostril flaring as if scenting me, his eyes going wide.

”No, you’re the crown prince, you don’t belong with someone like me.” I say in a shaky voice.

I had squashed my feelings for Ruhn for years. Since the day I had met him. Ruhn was destined to go on and continue the royal bloodline. One day rule the Valbaran Fae. Not be with someone like me. No one would take him seriously if he was with someone like me.

Ruhn laughs and shakes his head at me. “Trust me, I am no prince. That life isn’t for me. I couldn’t care less if the royal blood line ended with me. Hell I’d welcome it.” He says as he walks over to me and places his hands on my hips. “Especially if it meant being with you.”

Instantly my body relaxes at his touch like it always did. My body so attuned to his comforting presence. My eyes fluttering shut as I relax despite my racing heart.

”Ruhn stop messing with me.” I say as I try to step out of his grip, but his hands tighten keeping me in place.

I open my eyes and am met with his intense stair, almost angry at my words.

”Trust me sweetheart, I’m not messing with you. I would never joke about something like this.” His voice low and stern, almost commanding.

”Then why is this coming up now? You talk like you’ve been in love with me for years.”

”Because I have. Ever since you laughed that day in that damn bar. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.” He replies without missing a beat, his hands tightening again on my hips.

I shake my head and finally push out of his grip and walk over to the tree and rest my head against it to try gather my thoughts. There was no way. No way Ruhn wanted me and had hid it for fifty years. Every week was nearly a different girl.

”Then why wait till now Ruhn? Why wait fifty years while I watch you take a different girl back to your room? Till now when you are betrothed to another?” I snap as I turn to face him again.

I watch as anger rises in his eyes. The same anger mirrored in mine.

”Because I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” He starts before slowing walking over to me. “There was no way someone like you would want me. I was damaged. Broken. And I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with the one girl who didn’t care about my title. You didn’t care. Didn’t even bat an eye at our names when we introduced ourselves to you. Hell you already knew who we were. Who I was and you didn’t care. It was the one time I had felt normal around a female. And every time I saw you after you proved time and time again you didn’t care about my title. You wanted to be around me for who I was. And gods I loved it. I was instantly putty in your hands. I would and will do anything you ask of me.”

Ruhn stops in front of me, backing me into the tree, caging me in with his arms. No escape.

I shake my head. Not willing to believe what Ruhn told me even though I knew it was all true. Every single word was true.

”No. This isn’t real.” I say, denying it again.

”It is real. You know it is real. I can hear your heart beating as loudly as mine. Hell I can even smell me on you and I know you can smell you on me. This is real.”

”Shut up!.” I yell as I shove him.

Ruhn just smirks and leans down, lips meer inches from mine.

”Make me.”

Before I can think I’ve closed the distance between Ruhn and I. Our lips meeting in a heated passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue as we fight for dominance. Ruhn pushing me roughly against the tree. Ruhn grips my thighs as he lifts me up and pulls my legs around his waist, my arms wrapping around his neck to hold me against him as he walks away from the tree. Not once breaking the kiss. But as I realise he isn’t heading for the couch I break away and kiss down his cheek and jaw, before moving to his neck. A deep groan rumbling through him and into me as I lightly bit down on his neck.

”Careful sweetheart or we won’t make it to my room.” He growls out.

In response I bite down on his neck, his hands tightening on my thighs, profanities escaping his lips as he pushes through the crowd and back into the house. Instantly I hear cheers and hollering from Flynn and Dec, followed by Bryce. Without missing a beat, Ruhn removes one of his hands from my thigh to give them a vulgar gesture that has them laughing. Ruhn rushes up the stairs with speed I didn’t think was possible. The smell of his room hitting me instantly before Ruhn drops me on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing blown out eyes and the proud smirk of a male about to claim what is his.

[creepling]

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WEEK 01: DBF! J. SLAUGHTER / 5k

WRITTEN FOR KINKTOBER 2023

synopsis. reader's father brings on an apprentice to work for him, but the young lad becomes an unlikely friend to the old man. johnny becomes a regular in your household, and the thoughts about him are becoming unbearable. when they become reality, johnny puts you in your rightful place.

tags. smut - MDNI. dad's best friend. college student!reader. size kink. height difference. reader is twenty-one, johnny is twenty-eight. dacryphilia. reader description in bikini top & shorts. sneaking off. bedroom sex. yearning. smoking cigarettes. power imbalance. secret relationship. rough kissing & sex. edging. oral (f & m receiving). use of 'little one', 'slut' and 'baby' as pet names. stomach bulge. johnny is too big for reader. positions: mating press, upstanding citizen, elevator stance.

Your dad was the guy the town went to to get anything from a tap to the free-loader truck fixed into shape. He was always handy with his hands, and it’s what brought the money in for the family. People come and go on the property, and you’re just glad the yards are big enough so they can work away in the blazing sun instead of disrupting the peace inside. At your considerable age, however, you never quite appreciated your dad appointing you as a jug maid when people came over—asking you to fetch water or mom’s home-grown lemonade and top it up for the guests.

Eight in the morning was the starting point, your mom fetching ingredients in the kitchen and your dad cleaning up his tools by the dining table. You idled behind the door as you listened to their conversation.

“Really? You’re gonna hire him?” Your mom said, confusion lacing her words.

“C’mon, it’s not the boy’s fault. Nancy said he couldn’t find permanent work in the city, and I’ve seen him fix things up – the kid’s got the touch. He can’t help who his family is,” Your dad defended.

“I don’t know, there’s rumours. I don’t wanna find out if there’s any truth,”

“Those are about Nancy, not him. Cut him some slack. You’ll like him when you get to know him.” That was the last you heard before you darted back to your room. As you changed for the day, you knew who your parents were talking about. Hesitant like your mother, you recalled your memories of the Sawyers and the Slaughters. They are a crazy bunch, not right in the head, tuned to the moon – the usual gossip about them. They were hushed words through the grapevine to you; you never met one of them in person. Now that Nancy’s ‘kid’ is your dad’s new apprentice, you could decide how crazy they are.

He drove in the yard in a busted-up truck, but the engine sounded clean and the exhaust clear as a whistle. Your dad stood out front while you and your mom hung by the porch. You strain your eyes to glimpse him in the bright sun. As he jumped out of the truck, your lips parted.

He was like something out of the movies. Hair slicked back – sun-kissed skin. Dust on his boots, the sleeves cut from his shirt. Head held high and flashing a smile as he shook your dad’s hand. You studied the flex of his arms – muscle-toned and robust. The rumours failed to mention how handsome he was, for sure.

Once he greets your dad, you and your mom walk towards him to get acquainted.

“I expected you to be a little scrawny thing,” Your mom smiled, just as surprised as you. The man chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“You must be thinkin’ of Nubbins. I’m Johnny – Nancy’s son,” Johnny. It suited him like hair gel does a greaser.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, son, I’m bad with faces,” Your mom hollered, her bashfulness radiating off you and growing embarrassment in your core.

“This is my wife,” Your dad gestured, “And this quiet one at the back is my daughter,”

You introduce yourself. Johnny repeated your name, and it dripped like honey from his tongue. You mustered the coolest smile, hoping he blamed your bashfulness on the delirium of the heat. You spotted the hand he outstretched and shook it, your stomach doing summer salts at his firm grip—the stroke of his callous hands, deluging your hand. You could melt away in that moment.

Perch on the porch swing chair, nose in a book, your mind wandered to faraway lands to the noise of gears turning. Your dad praised Johnny’s working hands, a mutual bond in the early stages of establishment. Their tinkering perked your ears occasionally, your eyes peering over the book pages, salivating at the sight of Johnny’s gloved hands coated in soot. His eyes fixed on the mechanics, tiny strands of hair dangling over his forehead. Your dad calls on you, knocking you out of the trance.

“Fetch some lemonade, ay hun?”

You sighed, making your way into the house. In the shade, your skin still tingled. You glimpse your reflection in the hallway mirror. Cheeks dark – permanently flushed and hot. The pit of your stomach echoes alluring calls, burdening all logical thought. As you poured the glasses, you thought about those gloved hands gripping your sides, turning your body, greeting you with a rough kiss. Were his lips soft? Or brittle and callous, affected by the dry atmosphere. How much does his skin glisten with sweat? Do droplets run down the grooves of his muscles? His sun-kissed skin is littered with freckles, minuscule and collective, only noticeable when you kiss his points, running your tongue tactfully down his stomach.

“Honey, you’re spilling that!” Your mom rushed for a kitchen towel, soaking the lemonade that spread along the counter. You jumped out of your thoughts, awed by the mess, questioning the passing of time.

“Sorry, I was somewhere else…”

The thoughts only intensified when Johnny became a regular guest. He had much in common with your dad, and the unlikely man in his late 20s became a close friend to the older man. He was adopted by your dad’s friend circle, taking him under their wing, invited to BBQs, after-work bar drinks, and poker nights. When Johnny couldn’t make it, your dad always said he was in the city. You came to find Johnny wasn’t much older than you, but he likes to act like he is. One poker night, he walked past your bedroom, returning from the bathroom, eyeing the papers and books littering your desk. You felt his presence leaning on the door frame, thumbs hooked to his belt.

“Watcha got there?” He asked, his drawl never failing to amuse you.

“Summer reading. Gotta do it before I start the semester.”

“You’re always reading. Don’t ya eyes get sore?” His teasing took you by surprise. His hint at an observation was quite flattering. You thought he forgot you existed. It wouldn’t hurt to return the teasing, would it?

“Don’t your hands get sore from fixing so many cars?”

Johnny’s head leans back as he chuckles, a smirk on his face that could kill you on the spot. “You got me there, little one,” Johnny let his words linger as he walked back downstairs.

It should offend you to be called small, weaker, submissive. You were a grown-up. The grip on your pencil was firm but not from anger. It was from realising the sensation between your legs underneath your pyjama shorts. You were soaking wet.

July proved that this summer was hot, and there was no sign of it cooling down. Sitting outside was unbearable, and the thirst for cold water lay throats to dry as the pipes produced a lukewarm liquid that left a bad taste on the tongue. By the time Dad returned, the bags of ice melted in their plastic bags, causing your mother to rush about making ice cubes from scratch. All for the BBQ to still go ahead. The guests would be arriving soon.

Your parents’ friends arrived early to help out, and you heard the chin-wagging from up the stairs, cursing under your breath to find something decent to wear. Sweat invaded your skin even after having a shower, and the shorts and bikini top were becoming all too tempting to wear. You checked yourself in the mirror, the bikini strap tied around the back of your neck, the colour complimenting the hues of your skin. The plain and denim shorts are the most comfortable ones you own. Displaying your legs, room for the stomach, firm against your backside. It was the most revealing thing you’ve worn in a while, but as the sunlight reaches every corner of your bedroom, its feverish radiation gives you the excuse not to ponder. Checking your appearance once more, you sigh at your fussing and make your way downstairs.

Prepping food with your mom left you to wonder about your college friends. They were scattered around the states, living out their summers while you were stuck with the senior club. The guests remarked: if you don’t wanna hang with us old folks, we won’t take offence, hun. These people were considered your aunts and uncles; they’ve seen you in diapers. They braided your hair and kept your prying hands away from dangerous objects. The least you could do was spend time with them in your limbo stage of young adulthood and enjoy their company before you leave this town.

Things would have stayed wholesome if Johnny didn’t show up.

He wore the same clothes as always. This time, they looked like they had a fresh wash. His boots are polished, mechanic gloves discarded, his hair wet and slight back like he just hopped out of the shower. The congregation of the porch cooed at his arrival. The husbands were ready for handshakes, and the wives willfully smiled at his charming face. You were the only one to react like his welcome was neutral, even when you cocked your hip slightly to the side and fixed your hair.

He brought an offering of corn cobs, excusing the rest of his family not making attendance. “Momma wanted to give these as an apology for not comin’. She said she real busy. In truth, I think she was nervous comin’ here. She ain’t been out in a long while.”

They all thought how gratuitous the boy was looking out for his momma. You kept a blank face at their responses, knowing they would be as tense in meeting the ‘Black Nancy’. The black widow of Newt sitting with them, eating food with them, the rumours floating in their head like sewage in a gutter. It's a good thing he brought a meatless offering.

There were too many cooks in the kitchen as the men established a system by the grill, letting their wives sit around and ask Johnny questions, keeping him in their company. You sat by the edge, amused by the sight of his attempt to keep his cool.

They asked a lot about his family, and you sensed the tense build-up inside him from across the table. You bit your lip, staring into space, hearing the stutter of his words. He was like a meerkat around hyenas, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“How’s the old man? What was his name? Drayton! Is he still working at that gas station? Every time I drive by, there seems to be no gas in it,” The woman hollered, “Must be y’all bringing all the money in.”

“Wasn’t there a youngest? Must be cousins with yourself. ‘Went to school with my oldest, but he was not in it for long – teachers said he was slow-thinking. Think they pulled him out eventually. How’s he holdin’ up?”

The look in Johnny’s eyes, you hadn’t seen him like that before. Dark and daggering at the table, avoiding the gazes his way. You notice his forearm tense, his hands clenched into a fist. You felt like saying something.

“Quit your hollerin’ at ‘im! He don’t wanna gossip with ya!” Your dad’s friend nipped at his wife, causing the women to transfer into giggles.

“Would ya excuse me?” Johnny rose from the table and headed inside, insinuating use for the bathroom. As he entered the front door, you waited a few seconds before heading inside. Pausing by the hallway, you hear his footsteps, ear perking at a creak from upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you see him loitering by the landing, arms crossed and back to the wall. His eyes closed, heaves of exhales coming from his nose – like he was meditating.

“Drains the life outta ya, doesn’t it?” You perked, earning a jolt of surprise from Johnny.

“What ya mean?” He drawled, shrugging his shoulders.

“They’re energy vampires. I love them and all, but- sometimes they never know when to read the room. I guess I just- I mean to say you’re not wrong for feeling annoyed by it,” You gingerly walk closer to him, eyes adjusting to his face in the dim light. He was always at a distance, a stunning piece to commend. This is the closest you’ve ever seen him. You glance at his worn-out jeans, the car spark burn-holes in his t-shirt, the scars littering his arms. He was a solidified dream, flesh and bone carved by the Gods – a little rugged. You cross your legs and hug your arms, unworthy of his stare.

He couldn’t help but stare, too, soaking you in from head to toe – revealing your attributes hidden by flowy blouses and cotton flares on an average day. Your skin looked soft and plush. The dip in your thighs from the denim hugging close, snug on your hips. The bikini demanded his attention, and his stare was everlasting on you. A warm aura collided with your tense muscles, still and eager. You straightened your back and hugged your arms tighter, defining the curve of your cleavage. Johnny cocked his eyebrow.

“You wanna hang out? We can sit in my room” Your suggestion slipped through your lips. You were urged by the thoughts signalling in your mind to fill the hunger for his hands on you. To find somewhere quiet and colluded for your moans to become ballads.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny took a step closer to you. He was tall, his head tilted, eyes peering down at you. Your small stature shuffled back, but Johnny only leaned closer. The broadness of his shoulders engulfing you, his figure like a shadow. He was thinking about your suggestion, burying your head into the pillows, having his way with you. But for the first time, he felt like following a moral code – to not fuck his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown close to him and even appreciated his presence as the father figure he never had. But he had also grown fond of how you look at him, tempting him at every chance. Your acts were desperate; he mused on stripping you of your innocent facade, letting his hands reveal your alluring nature. Nervously laughing, you divert your eyes, swinging your legs in motion to your bedroom door.

“Well- while the old ones talk your ear off, I’ll be in my room. You’re welcome to join if you like,” You bite your lip and bat your eyes before closing the door.

Johnny shuffled between your door and the stairs, hearing the laughter from outside and a record hitting play through your wall. Both sound sources tugged at him until he finally gave him, opening your door discreetly.

You lay on your bed, positioned with your feet kicking the air, your hands splayed over a book you were reading earlier. The music mumbled as Johnny slowly closed the door, leaning on it as his eyes scanned your room. It was a physical personification of you, small tokens of memories littered around. The walls are still a pale pink from when you were a toddler, yellow-stained from cigarette smoke. Hand-me-down furniture in the set of dark wood, coffee stains on the desk, dust under the wardrobe. Johnny’s lips tugged into a smile, “Cute,” 

You gave him room to sit on the bed, discarding your book and leaning on your side. Johnny prompted his back against the headboard, his boots dangling on the edge, mindful of the dirt on the soles. He digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, clipping his lips onto the dout of the cigarette and pulling it out. You gaze at his pout and the clicker of the lighter, mimicking his inhale to steady the gutting pounds of your heart. You inch your fingers towards him, and he passes the cigarette, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and draw it to your lips.

“Why’d you start working with my dad?” You ask the question you wanted to ask for a long time, to know the beginning of it all. To better understand the origins of his presence being the demise of your contentment.

“He offered me a job, I took it,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette as you passed it back.

“And now you’re the best of buddies. How’s that going?” You slightly tease, smiling at the sight of his smirk.

“I know you’re his daughter and all - but he’s a fun guy to hang around with. Doesn’t bother me he’s older. I like hanging out with him, and he’s taught me a lot on the job.”

Johnny taps the ashes into the ashtray at your bedside, his free hand by his side, inches away from yours. His hard fingertips traced circles on your duvet. You slide your fingers closer, breezing your nail along his index. He observed you, studying your innocent exterior, suspicious of your insinuating eyes.

“What about me? Am I fun to hang out with?” Your face dropped as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t…” His warning was clear, but his tongue scaled along his cheek, trying to hold back. You roll your eyes and sit up, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You’re not that much older than me, y’know. You don’t get to treat me like a baby just because you're friends with my family.” You got your point across, narrowing your eyes as Johnny held in a chuckle.

“How old are you, anyways?” Johnny drawled, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Twenty-one. And how old are you? Twenty-eight, going on Fifty?” Your face was straight, but you chewed on your cheek as his smirk grew contagious. A firmness gripped your wrist, and your breath hitches, pupils dilating as Johnny pours his stare into you. As he sits up, you feel small again, his shoulders at either side of you, his hard look demanding your attention.

“I see how it is. You’re all grown up now, but mommy and daddy still think you’re their sweet little baby. Everyone thinks you’re so damn cute, you’re the precious little angel. And you’re just getting darn’ sick of it,” Johnny’s words form a lump in your throat, and you meekly nod. His lips close to yours, and your mouth gapes open as he leans closer.

He pulls away, smirking at your intentions, biting the cigarette between his teeth. You turn away in a huff, rubbing your hot cheeks. How embarrassing to be teased like that and caught out on your feelings. Johnny was relishing it.

“Go back downstairs if you’re going to be like that,” You say, trying not to trip on your words and stand your ground. Johnny deadens the cigarette into the ashtray, and his boots scrape against the hardwood. He squats in front of you, forcing his gaze on yours.

“I ain’t doing anything outta malice, sweetheart. What you’re tryna do would cost me my job. What would your dad think of me? What would he think of you?” Johnny places his hands on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare skin. You caught your breath. “But… I’m not one to play by the rules. And, well, that little outfit of yours caught my eye the minute I came here.”

Johnny hooks his fingers under the hem of your shorts, his knuckles digging under the tight fabric. Your back arches along with your legs slowly opening, fixated on Johnny’s eyes on your body. “My, you’re just too tempting…” Johnny breathes out.

“No one has to know,” You convince, “I won’t tell anyone. You’ll still have your job.”

Johnny places his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. You realise how big he is compared to you, how his hand could cover your whole face or wrap wholly around your neck. His lips tug into a smirk as his eyes devour you, “Yeah, let’s keep this our little secret.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates against his lips, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he stands up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your ass and the back of your neck. The effortlessness of handling coursed through your mind, wondering what other aspects he can achieve. His initiation of power lends you your submissive state, and you allow him to spread your short frame along your bed, his broad shoulders on either side of you, and he props himself with his elbows. He leans to one side, letting his free hand fidget with your shorts, his lips never leaving for breath. He tugs them off, chuckling as they fumble over your thighs.

Johnny trails his kisses down to your chest, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts, massaging into their warmth. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bikini, letting the fabric fall on either side of him. The strap tickles his ears, and his hands yank the rest of the fabric, his mouth latching onto your nipples, a drawn-out moan escaping your lips. You wondered how loud is too loud. Will people hear from downstairs? Taking no chances, you clasp your hand over your mouth, sinking into the bed as Johnny attacks your sensitivity.

“Lemmie hear those moans, little one,” Johnny said between kisses, “You sound so darn cute.”

There it was again. Little one. You feel your underwear drenched as you buck your hips, your pussy rubbing against the thin material. It only intensifies as Johnny lowers his kisses, catching sight of the damp trail pooling in your panties. “Fuuuck,” he breathes out, pressing his fingertips against your warmth, making you tense. Pleading with your eyes as he teases you, your hips grind against his touch, begging for pressure. Johnny was not one for pleasuring others, but the sight of your desperation and your sweet scent sent his actions into overdrive. His fingers pull down the thin, cotton fabric, abandoning it on the floor, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” He prompts your legs over his shoulders, exposing you. You mewl at your vulnerability, eyes locked on his fingers inching towards you. He groans at his fingers sliding neatly between your walls, gliding upwards to your gummy clit. His touch was light but enough to make you shift your hips lower. He grunts, gripping your legs and giving you a firm stare.

“I need you to stay still, baby girl. I wanna take my sweet’ass time with you, ‘that clear?”

You nod rapidly, agreeing to anything that involves him touching you. You mentally beg for him inside you, to fill you up with his immersive fingers, letting each one stretch you out and tighten at his touch. You wanted to feel his tongue toy with your clit, cum all over his mouth. But he wasn’t playing by your rules, and Johnny will do anything to make you beg.

Johnny idles your clit, making his touch lighter whenever you press against him. He chuckles at your defeat, your ass sinking lower into the bed, obeying him in hopes of pleasure. Johnny takes his time sliding inside you, one finger after another, his mouth agape at the sight of your stretching cunt. You yelp into your mouth, biting down on your finger as you ease into his touch, gasping as he pumps in and out. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit. Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the sheets, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

The sight of Johnny’s eyes looking up at you was maddening, his stare dark and lustrous. His free hand holds your leg wide, having all access to your sensitive cunt. The tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit, sending a tight, pleasurable feeling to your core. His experience was unlike any other. It beat all the sex you had before out of the park. Your climax inches to finish, your moans pitching higher, mewling against your pursed lips. Then, he stops, the cold air hitting against your throbbing cunt, his tongue licking his lips.

“Why’d you stop? Please, I was so fucking close-” You protest, but Johnny already has his fingers on your lips, silencing you. With a firm hold on your jaw, he slaps your cunt until it’s raw, basking in your surprise. The way your small frame protests his touch amused him more than he liked to admit.

“Awh baby, I don’t want you cumming so early,” Johnny mockingly coos, rubbing the bulge protruding from his jeans, “I gotta have some pleasure too, y’know.”

You sit up, practically clawing at his jeans, letting his hands stroke your pretty face as you reveal his cock. Like his hands, his length reached over your face, his girth heavy against your nose. Kitten licking his shaft, Johnny chuckles at your eagerness.

“Who knew you were such a lil cock slut?” Johnny amused. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for, he thought. His tip pokes your pretty little mouth, Johnny aiming entry, his head thrown back as you suck it gently in your mouth. He grips your hair, his burly strength pushing your mouth deeper around his cock. You choke as your nose tickles his base, gasping for air as he springs his cock out of your mouth. Once his cock is dripping in your drool, Johnny pushes you back, exposing your throbbing cunt to his erection.

Beyond the mist of lust, Johnny thought for a moment. His eyes scan you – your puppy eyes and puffy lips. His hands pressed down your thighs, exposing your entrance, his tip rubbing against your clit. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his tiny fucktoy. He undertakes, sliding his cock inside you, slow against your tightness, the pressure forcing him to stuff himself inside you. He watches as your pussy stretches around him, the way your stomach expands and reveals the bulge of his cock. He comprehends the size difference, how minuscule you are underneath him, and how in your stature you squirm under his force. You try to back up as he is halfway, your pussy choking on his cock, but he holds you in place.

“This getting too much for you, little one? Can’t you take all of me?” Johnny grunts in your ear, rutting the rest of his length inside you, smothering your face into the crook of his neck as you yelp. Burying his cock into you, he waits until you succumb to his length before getting back into position and pounding his cock in and out of you. The roughness to provoke against you sends mixed signals, your mind foggy and fixated on his cock. A jolt of pleasure fills you, his thumb rubs against your clit.

“Who knew daddy’s little girl was so cock-hungry,” Johnny teased, “A pretty thing like you wanting me to ruin this tiny pussy. Fuck, your dad’s gonna be pissed.”

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers never leaving your clit, watching you ascend into lust as he tells you how dirty you are, how he sees the way you stare at him, how you were asking for this. You thank him repeatedly, asking him to go faster, harder.

“You gonna make me cum,” You purr, your high coming close. Your words encourage Johnny to keep going until the opposite occurs. His fingers leave your clit, his thrusts burn into a slow rhythm, and you feel like screaming. A numbing agony takes over. You sob into his chest. Johnny forces you to look at him, witnessing tears fall. His edging came to a breaking point. Your orgasm is denied and torturous. You plead with him with your eyes, your lip quivering. His pupils dilate as you sob.

His thrusts are harsher as if forcing the tears to keep spilling down your puffy cheeks, grunts breathing out his mouth at the sound of you choking on your sobs. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing the air from your lungs, using every possibility to see you crying. You knew he enjoyed this, feeling him twitch inside you, your lulling eyes catching the perverted look in his eye.

“You keep doing that, and I’ll let you cum, baby girl,” Johnny promised, not caring how psychotic he sounded, showing his true colours. The creak of the bed intensifies as he drills into you, prompting him to pick you up in his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, shocked at how flawlessly he picked you up, holding you like you weigh nothing. Your legs over his arms, his forehead pressing against yours. Mesmerised by the dark look in his eye, you silence your moans with pursed lips, astonished at your tender insides ruined by his rough thrusts. The tears keep streaming, the pain mixing with your arousal, your delicate cunt denied of pleasure, at his mercy for emancipation. Johnny kissed your tear-stained cheeks – a glutton to its salty taste.

“Such a good little pet for me, so fucking good,” Johnny mumbles, a belligerent on your ass, smacking you against him and grunting at the pleasure. “I’m gonna let you cum now, doll. Fuck – I want you to cum.”

You gasp in relief, repeating gratitude, the depths of his pummelling enough to bring your high from your ruined pussy to its release. As you speak and squirm, you cling to his broad frame, nails digging into his shoulders, suffocating your face into his neck. Johnny is unyielding to your cunt tightening around him, his length bathing in your wetness, an exhausted groan flowing from his agape mouth. Johnny holds your dead weight as you grow limp, lightheaded from the rush, but still able to keep you with perfect precision. Knowing his climax is approaching, Johnny slips your lame, small body off him, forcing you to his knees. You become alert in your position, held in place with your head directly under his pulsating dick, his hand firm on the top of your head, ready for his load.

Strings of hot seed stretch your face and hairline, grumbling curses from Johnny, the sight of you marked with his release clouding his mind— the residue hanging from your lips, relishing in his salty taste. Johnny smirks down at you. Even in his transition to clarity, you are a sight for sore eyes. “You look so pretty like that, little one,” he chuckled.

Both of you are quick to change, aware of the passing of time and the guests downstairs. Johnny helps you tie your bikini, brazing your tits for the last time before buckling his jeans. Cleaning the cum and tears from your face with a cloth, you gaze at him, fumbling with his belt, trailing your eyes along the perimeters of his body. Wondering if all of this was just another wet dream.

Johnny revised the excuse with you once more, “I was in the bathroom, bothered by last night's dinner. You were in your room studying. Got it?”

You smirk slyly, making Johnny cock his eyebrow. “You really want them thinking you were on the toilet for half an hour?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “Better than them knowing I was fucking you. Unless you got another excuse, smartass?”

A smile erupts on your face, giggling under your breath. Your eyes look at Johnny, ready to ask about the elephant in the room. “Is this gonna be the first and only time?”

Johnny thinks about it momentarily, shrugging as he gazes down at you. “It can’t be too regular. But I would be lyin’ if I said I didn’t wanna see you again,”

You sit there bashful, the flash of shyness intensifying when he gently kisses the top of your hand, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. He had an edge to him. You discovered that in the trice, but it only heightened your infatuation with him. To be under him, in his command, you never felt more safe, excited, and thrilled by what life threw at you. The risk of getting caught, in any other situation, your good nature meets with anxiety. Johnny made it worth it. It was impossible to deny him. And Johnny could sleep tonight knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

“‘Til next time, sweet thing,'' Johnny exited, winking before closing the door. You lay back on your bed, gaining your senses, the butterflies in your stomach still prevalent and consuming.

[weirdosinthestereo]

The Cowboy and the Rocker (Tyler Owens x F!Reader)

Author's note: This is just a slightly self-indulgent story I've come up with after obsessing over Twisters. The reader has a name, but I don't think any physical characteristics are mentioned besides music taste and story age. Unedited! Enjoy! No warnings really for now.

Tyler sighed irritably as he stood beside his truck, he checked his phone for the fifth time in a span of six minutes. 

“Where is this kid?!” Tyler spits as he turned to Boone who was checking some mechanics in the big red Dodge. Tyler was ecstatic to help a student from the University of Alabama get data for their Masters project, but they were slightly behind making it to the meeting spot.

“C'mon man! They are only like three minutes late. You're just impatient.” Boone laughed as he lifted his head from the middle console. Tyler rolled his eyes and his lips pulled into a fine line as he looked out at the early morning sky. The spring weather was nice, but dark clouds already threatened them with storms to come. Tyler noticed a blacked out lifted truck heading down the highway towards the gas station. He could hear the heavy bass and screaming metal from here. 

“Oh please don't be our kid.” He mumbled as he watched the truck speed in to the lot and park in front of his Dodge. The Tacoma was sharp and already decked out with gear to protect it's driver from a storm. The University told Tyler on the phone that the student was already preparing to start chasing on her own, but he didn't expect to already see a very expensive truck on her first time chasing. 

“DRAG ME DOWN SOME MORE. GET ME LOW… LIKE A BASEMENT. I HOPE THAT YOU WROTE, ALL YOUR SONGS FOR ME.”

Tyler stared in shock as the driver of the truck smiled happily over her loud music. Letting it play with her windows down as if to make a big entrance. The driver pulled off her black sunglasses and revealed bright happy eyes. 

“Hi! Sorry I'm late! Had to get gas a while back.” Tyler noticed the heavy southern accent immediately when she spoke. She shut off the truck and jumped out. Tyler arched a brow as he saw she was wearing some more durable boots and jeans paired with a heavy metal band t-shirt, this is not who he expected to see. The girl walked up to Tyler happily as she stuck out her hand. 

“My name is Lila. I'm the student from UA.” Lila introduces with a bright smile. Tyler gave her a small smile before shaking her hand. “I'm Tyler. I was wondering when you were gonna grace us with your presence.” Tyler teased as he put his hands on his hips. 

Lila throws a glance back at her black truck, “Doesn't always have the greatest gas milage.” Lila glances off to the west when she heard anew angry rumble of thunder. Lila smiled as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

“Sounds like we already have a storm brewing.” Lila says walking to where she could see the darkening sky more clearly. “I'm ready to test my truck out.” She adds rubbing her hands together excitedly. Tyler couldn't help the teasing grin that stretched across his face. “You think you can handle that truck?” He teases as he came to stand beside her. 

Lila threw Tyler as strange look, her nose scrunching up. “I've lived in Alabama for all of my 28 years of life, of course I can handle that truck. Just haven't had the chance to push her.” Tyler laughs playfully, despite her music taste, he was starting to like Lila. 

“Guys! We have some heavy activity on the radar from that storm building in the west! Let's go before we miss her!” Dani calls as the other wranglers throw their stuff in their vehicles. “Here, you will need this radio to keep in touch.” Tyler says tossing Lila a walkie before jogging to hop in his truck. 

Lila gawks before dashing to her truck as well and starting it up. Lila backs up to let Tyler lead and floors it to stay right behind him. 

Tyler and Boone start their feed as they barrell down the road. “What's up everyone! It's your favorite Tornado Wrangles and we have a special guest today in the truck behind us! She's came all the way from Alabama to chase with us for some data and footage for a Masters project!” Tyler yells to the camera over the music. “Roll tide!” Boone hollars jokingly. 

Lila grips the steering wheel tightly as she tails Tyler. Introducing herself to everyone on the walkie since she didn't before driving off. Lila leans forward to get a better look at the sky as the rain slowly starts up. Tyler makes a sharp turn on to a dirt road and Lila yelps as her truck fish tales slightly with the quick turn, but she gets it back quickly. 

“Okay newbie, back off for this while we head on. We will let you come on the next one.” Tyler calls on the walkie as he powers forward as the possible EF3 tornado touches down in an open field. 

Lila frowns and starts to slow down, however, she smirks before turning her music up loud. Given up by Linkin Park blaring from her radio as she slams her foot down on the gas. Dani and Dexter jump where they stand outside the camper shocked as they watch Lila speed to catch up to Tyler, Boone, and Lily in the Dodge. 

“Uh, Tyler? Our student is now chasing you.” Dexter says over the radio system in his vehicle. 

Tyler frowns as he looks in the rear view. “What the hell? Boone cut the camera a moment. Hey Lila?! I told you to hold back this time!” Tyler scolds on the walkie so he could talk to her. 

Lila looks at the walkie on her dash and smiles, “If you feel it, chase it!” She informs before overtaking Tyler on the small dirt road. Kicking up mud as she passes. 

“This girl is gonna get herself killed!” Lily says worriedly as she watches Lila cut off into the field. Her truck bounced on the new terrain as she kept heading straight for the tornado. Tyler curses as she follows Lila. “Lila! Back off now!” Tyler orders, but Lila wasn't listening, just flicked some switches in her truck to get her mounted cameras ready to take pictures of the storm on the outside of the truck. Lila stops her truck a few yards from the storm and presses a button that causes anchors to deploy and keep her truck locked down. 

Tyler was shocked to see this, this girl already had this on her truck as well? Tyler pulls up beside Lila and anchors his truck as well. Tyler looks over at Lila who's smiling widely as she gives him the swirling motion with her fingers that he uses on his videos. Boone laughed as he started the stream again to show Lila to the channel. “Guys! Look at this crazy girl having her first ride with a storm!” Boone cheers as the tornado envelops both trucks. 

Lila watches in awe as the storm roars around her, raging over the sound of her music. Lila presses the space bar on her mounted laptop to take pictures of the storm. Lila grabs the steering wheel shocked when her truck jerks roughly. “What the…” the truck starts to jerk again as the tailend of the storm comes at her. Tyler saw the scared look on Lila's face and leaned over Boone to see her anchors moving in the ground. 

“Shit! I don't think they go deep enough to hold her truck's weight!” Boone concludes. Tyler watched with a worried look as he saw the anchors start to eject from the ground. “No.. they are malfunctioning.” Tyler says, and looks to see the storm was just about to pass. 

“HOLD ON LILA! THE STORM IS ABOUT TO PASS!” Tyler yells through the walkie. Lila shook heavily as she saw the button light up to pull out the anchors. “No! No no no no no..” Lila mumbled as she presses the eject button in hopes to keep the anchors down. 

Lila screamed as her truck lifted about a foot and a half off the ground before dropping again roughly after the tornado passed them fully. Lila shook terrified as she clumsily got out of her truck. 

Tyler scrambles out of his truck and runs to her followed by Boone and Lily. Lila's knees buckle as she walks to the back of her truck, gripping the side of the bed for leverage. 

“Are you okay?!” Tyler yells as he comes to Lila's side where she was hunched over. Lila shook like a leaf in the wind as she leaned up and looked at Tyler. Boone kept the camera rolling as Lily stood on the other side of Lila. Tyler gave Lila a confused look as she smiled widely. “That was absolutely terrifying, but I wanna go again!” Lila yelled as she clung to Tyler's shirt as her legs still trembled under her. Boone whooped excitedly as he made sure to get footage of everyone as Lila jumped up and down now with him. 

Tyler stared at Lila's back in awe before a smile broke across his face. Lily let out a playful scoff as she crossed her arms and watched the two make content, “This girl is gonna give us a run for our money if she makes her own team one day.”

Tyler smiled wider as he watched Lila and Boone fuck around while Dani and Dexter park a bit away to join them. “I don't know… maybe she can work with us?” Tyler suggests and turns his wide smile to Lily. “She's still in school. There's no way she would drop out just to do this when she's so close to finishing her degree.” Lily shook her head. 

“School? I'm not in school.” Lila says absentmindedly before realizing what she said. Tyler frowns now, “Aren't you a student at the University of Alabama going for her Masters in Environmental Sciences?” Tyler asks as he comes closer. Lila stutters worriedly as everyone stares at her awaiting her answer. 

Lila sighs heavily and shakes her head, “I'm sorry. That was a lie. The guy that called you was a friend of mine. I wanted to go chasing with some professionals before trying on my own. I was scared you would refuse unless I came up with some sort of story.” 

Tyler puts his hands on his hips and chuckles dryly as he looks away. “Boone erase the stream. Don't post it.” Tyler gives a pointed look at Boone before he glared at Lila. 

“You know, we probably would have thought about helping you get experience if you had just been honest. Now, I just wanna send you home and never see you again.” Tyler seethed and Lila rubbed her arm as she dug the toe of her left boot in the mud, not wanting to meet Tyler's eyes. Tyler sighed heavily and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair. “But, you've already made the trip out here. We will let you continue to tag along. No more lying though.” Lila looks up shocked but excited. 

“Thank you!! Thank you!!” Lila yells jumping up and down before hugging Tyler tightly. “Okay.. you're welcome. Let's get going to see if we can catch something else.” Tyler says as Lila dashes for her truck and hops in. “Where to?!” She calls.

—----

Night had settled over the town the crew decided to rest in. Groups of chasers gathering at the same motel on the outskirts of the nearest town to follow the Tornado Wranglers, as well as getting their own starts. 

Lila walked the parking lot as she took in the many faces. Her hair still feels windswept and slightly dirty from wandering in the rain and fields all day. Lila smiled and waved at a few passing chasers that greeted her. It was literally like a traveling caravan with how many people seemed to know each other and shared a beer together after the long day. 

“Lila!” Tyler calls and waves her over to sit on the tailgate of his truck. Lila shyly comes over, still worried he was angry with her. “Hi.” She muses while hoping up to sit down. Tyler gives Lila a shit eating grin as he watches her settle in beside him. 

“So, you aren't in school. What were you doing before coming out here? Also, how did you afford to already have a decked out truck?” Tyler asks curiously. 

Lila snorts softly and laughs dryly, “My parents helped me with the last bit of the truck, but it's taken many years of saving to get that truck. I also work as a project manager at a local construction firm that also does a good bit of environmental consulting. I saved my vacation time for months to take off for two weeks. I wanted to be able to rest a week after getting home from chasing with you guys." Tyler listens quietly and shakes his head at her, a smile still pulled across his face. 

“So you do work on environmental issues then? Well, still you didn't have to lie. We loved the idea that someone wanted our help to do something for school. Also, I'd prefer you be careful going into storms for now since your truck tried to send you to the grave this morning.” Tyler watched as Boone and Dexter were actively trying to figure out why her anchors released on their own. Dani and Lily help by holding flashlights now that the sun is fully down. 

Lila sighed heavily as she remembered the fear she felt when she saw the red light come on telling her the anchors were coming up. 

“I don't really get to do much environmental stuff. Mostly I'm just a paper pusher. I know more about regulations than anything.” Lila explains as she looks up to the sky, admiring the stars.

Tyler watches Lila quietly, thinking of something to talk about. He wanted to lighten the mood between them after he yelled at her earlier in the day. He glances at her dirty band tee, Motionless in White? 

“So… you like the heavy stuff, huh? Who's this band on your shirt?” Tyler asks to break the silence. Lila smiled as she looked at her shirt. “Yeah, they are considered metalcore, I think? There are too many subgenres for metal. I love them, though. They are my favorite band. I've seen Motionless in White like five times in concert.” Tyler listened quietly. He didn't really vibe with the metal stuff, but he hasn't tried listening to it in years. Lila flushed red as Tyler watched her quietly and turned her head with a small smile. Tyler came back to reality when he saw her do this. He smirked cockily now. 

“Hey, don't get all shy on me now.” Tyler nudged her with his elbow as he lightly swung his legs that hung off the truck's tailgate. 

“Tyler!!! Come shotgun a beer with me!” Boone yelled loudly across the parking lot. A beer held up high in the air. Obviously, Boone had already had a couple first. Tyler shook his head and hopped down from his truck. “Come on. If we don't go over there Boone will just make more noise than needed.” Tyler said as he waited for Lila to join him. Lila laughed as she followed Tyler to the rest of the group. “How do you shotgun a beer?” Lila asks.

Tyler raised a brow and laughed, “We can show you.” That night wore on longer than it should have as Lila partied with the Tornado Wanglers and a few stranglers that joined them from other teams.

_-_-_-_-_

I may post more parts, but enjoy some Tyler Owens fluffiness!!

[t-h-i-n-g]

“He looks at her like he just realized what love is.”

————

(jacob black x reader)

-chapter one- series-masterlist

summary: skipbo is a beautiful way to bring people together

Word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, ?awkward introductions? (Sorry if shit seems wack in some spots its 1 am rn and I feel like my eyes are burning from how bright my screen is BUT IT CANT GO DOWN ANY GODDANM LOWER)

————

When you first moved to Forks you never would’ve guessed it would come with a six foot three man that seemed to be smitten by you the moment you walked into his life.

It seemed like something out of a movie… However the love at first sight trope was rather one sided at first.

The late afternoon breeze caused a chill to roll up your spine as you walked along a dirt road. It had been about a month since you have moved to the small town in Washington.

The weeks following the last u-haul truck dropping off your family’s belongings had been rather uneventful.

School was an easy transfer. You were able to find all of your classes with the help of a student named Edward Cullen. He was the first face that became familiar to you when wandering the halls filled with unknown identities. However you and Edward didn’t seem to really click but he was nice enough to introduce you to his friend Bella, as he decided you too would be the perfect match.

You learned that they were indeed not just friends soon after meeting the quiet girl.

Walking around a corner while aimlessly searching for a bathroom caused you catch the sight of them making out rather feverishly towards the end of the hall. With a smooth 180 you decided that pissing your pants would be a better option than a hypothetical extremely awkward conversation. You also scolded yourself for not realizing sooner that they were a pair as the love struck gazes the two shared should’ve been more evident.

It took a few days to let the shock wash off and something told you that Edward knew exactly why you sputtered every time Bella offered to walk you to your next class, his eyes twinkling in amusement as you fumbled over your words.

Bella and you did click just like Edwards expected. You often became a third wheel when you hung out with the girl as the couple seemed almost inseparable. But you didn’t really mind for the fact they were never very big on PDA. Small actions were shared quietly between them every so often instead. You picked that up by eyeing the gentle touches and gestures the two exchanged throughout the day.

However, even though they were glued at the hip you were still able to get Bella to yourself. One of those times included you walking down a said dirt road, the fresh autumn air being taken in through your nose.

Bella wanted to introduce you to a few people from a nearby reservation; stating you’d hit it off great with a couple individuals in particular. She had insisted on parking her rickety old truck on the side of the road and the two of you walking the next mile or so to your desination.

You still haven’t fully understood the girl beside you. She’s extremely introverted but at the same time very expressive in a way. You never would have expected Bella Swan to be a sucker for listening to leaves crunching. That’s the only reason she wanted to hike the rest of the way in the first place.

“It’s just so satisfying,” she stated, walking in a rather funky way, attempting to land on a leaf with every step she took. Your face scrunched up as you watched her strange movements.

Bella Swan was definitely someone you will never stop learning new things about.

There was an intersection along your path that Swan girl directed you down. The sight of, what you assumed was, your landing place came into view. Many driveways broke off, trailing to different houses.

It took almost another 10 minutes of weaving down roads and passing hundreds of evergreen trees for Bella to finally point towards a red house accompanied by a shed.

Voices sounded as you approached the front steps. Light nervousness bubbled in your stomach but there was no time to over think as Bella swung the screen door wide open, holding it long enough for you to catch it from hitting you.

The smell of cedar, pine, and musk doubled as you stepped into the household.

You were met with the sight of a kitchen. Dated appliances and a wood table taking up most of the space. The ceiling light casted a yellow glow across the room. The wooden floor looked recently swept and a quiet sizzling was heard. On top of the stove was a pan with a lid; steam emitted through the sides.

The door behind you shut with a quiet click. As soon as it did the voices speaking from people you couldn’t see stopped.

Bella crouched down to untie her laces. Casting your gaze to the floor you took notice of the multiple pairs of shoes piled up on the rug you were currently standing on. Many of them were scattered away from their matches. Seemingly kicked off without a care in the world.

“There's a coat rack over there,” Bella's voice broke you from your thoughts. Glancing at her you looked over your shoulder to look at the mostly bare metal bar. A single large jacket was hanging from it.

Your brows furrowed, taking in the fact that with the end of fall approaching, more and more people were talking out their winter jackets; and you’d suspect with the amount of shoes there'd be coats to match the amount. The question didn’t deter too much in your mind however as footsteps approached.

Just as you pulled your parka off of your shoulders and hung it a large looming shadow casted from the bare doorway.

“You brought the goods right?” A deep voice rumble, almost shaking your soul.

Bella huffed out a quiet laugh.

“Why does no one even say hi anymore?” She asked in faux annoyance. Maneuvering to look at the owner of the baritone wavelanks you were met with the sight of a man leaning onto a wooden frame. His jawline was sculpted and his figure was rather muscular.

“Hi Bella,” he replied with fake enthusiasm. His cheery expression dropped to an almost emotionless one. “Did you bring it or not.”

“Yes Paul, I brought it,” Bella admitted, taking off her gloves, placing them next her jacket. “Why are you all so obsessed with SkipBo?”

“Because it’s one of the best inventions of all time,” someone stated over ‘Paul’s’ shoulder. He was taller with more of a baby face.

“You would think that.”

Jesus Christ they just kept leveling up. Another boy appeared, somehow taller than the second.

“Bella’s here?”

When will it end?? Where the hell were they pulling up from???The fourth was in similar height with the third, having a lanky build.

“Embry you literally can’t even talk,” number two stated, turning to number three.

“I’m not the one who flips tables when he loses.”

“It was one time-“

Apparently you were invisible. ‘Embry’ and number two broke into a bicker as number four watched in amusement. Paul was too busy snatching the card deck from Bella’s grasp with a mumbled thanks as he turned it over, inspecting.

“This is Y/n by the way,” she suddenly announced. Paul’s eyes glanced up to you briefly before unwrapping the rubber band holding the game together.

“Hey,” he greeted, dismissing you with a turn, his back facing you as he sat the game on the table.

Your face was scrunched in utter confusion as you took in your surroundings. Arguments still bustled and Paul just peacefully shuffled the cards. Parting the deck and making a bridge before repeating.

You looked at Bella in questioning, asking ‘what the hell’ with your eyes while you toed off your shoes. She simply smiled gently in response and looking over at the group of boys.

“Where’s Jake?” She asked crossing her arms and shifting her weight on to one foot.

“Doing some shit with Sam. Said he’d be back by 4:00 though,” number four pushed between Embry and number two. Who shoved him rather harshly but number four didn’t even acknowledge it.

“Y/n you said?” He asked, holding out a hand in greeting. Looking at it dumbly, it took a second for you to shake it.

“Um… yes?”

“Was that a question?” He quirked a brow, lip curving slightly at the corner.

“…No?” Number four chuckled lightly.

“Jared,” he introduced, placing his hand back down by his side. You smiled politely, lips tight. “Over there is Embry and Quill. I’d say they usually aren’t like this but I’d be lying,” Jared winced as the two boys behind him continued to climb in volume.

“Can you guys just shut the fuck up,” Paul finally snapped glaring with an annoyed expression.

“Well tell him to stop calling me an antisocial little bitch,” Quill stated, pointing a finger in an accusatory manner at Embry.

“They’re like children,” you mumbled.

“Aren’t all teenage boys?” Bella remarked. She swiftly brushed past you and took a seat next to Paul who began dealing out different piles.

“Y/n, you want in, right?” He asked, not taking his eyes away from the cards.

Twiddling your thumbs you hesitantly took a spot across from Bella.

“I may be rusty,” you warned.

“Can't be worse than Bella,” he mumbled, earning a light slap to his arm. A small smirk played on his lips but he paid the action no mind.

Slowly but surely the spots around the table began to fill. Jared sat next to you while Quill went to Bella’s side and Embry went to Paul. A single chair next to you remained empty.

Quill rubbed his hands together.

“Who’s ready to get shit on?”

“Shit like the time you shit your pants when you’re dad-“

“Bro I thought we established that it’d be peace and love from now on?”

“Sorry, your aura is just asking me to insult you,” Embry defended.

“What does that even mea-“ Quills question was cut off by a harsh slam of the card deck making contact with the middle of the table.

Paul gave both boys a pointed look.

“Usually by now he’d have pumbled them,” Jared murmured. You looked over at him. “Think he’s playing nice to not scare you off,” he stated his eyes glancing over to meet yours. You chuckled lightly.

“Should I thank him later?” You questioned jokingly.

“Nah, you’d inflate his ego.” A snort slipped past you.

“If Jacob doesn’t show in the next five minutes he’s getting dawn duty,” Embry stated.

“Dawn duty?” Looking across the table you furrowed your brows at Bella. She shook her head, a quiet message for you to not question it.

Minutes ticked by as useless banter continued to flow around the table. Your lips had stayed shut for the duration of it. The group of people you were surrounded with were rather… interesting.

But what else would you expect from a bunch of teenage boys just like Bella had said.

The topic of if pickles wrapped in ham was a food crime rose just as the sound of hinges creaking faintly sounded as Jared explained how the appetizer must have been crafted by Edward Einstein himself.

The door was pushed open and a figure pushed into the crazed house.

First thing you noticed about him was his well built stature. The guy had the shoulders of a fucking body builder. The wideness of them made his shirt hang loose on his frame. From what you could see of his face, his jaw was sharp, nose sloped, and his eyelashes were so long you could see them from your seat. Overall he was extremely attractive (might you even say a certified hottie).

As soon as, who you assumed was ‘Jacob’, stepped into the house he seemed to visually relax. The familiar environment calming him in and externally.

“Sorry I'm late,” he mumbled, hunching down to untie his shoes.

“Embry said you get dawn duty,” Quil blurted out. Brows furrowing Jacob looked up, annoyed expression taking over his features. Even looking like he had to sneeze he looked hella fine.

“The fuck I do,” he scoffed. “Who was the one who just made 20 laps.”

Nobody protested while he continued to unlace. He greeted Bella with a light smile and a brush of her shoulder. She beamed back at him.

Jacob had yet to acknowledge your presence. You brought your finger nails to your teeth; biting on them in a force of habit. He was rather intimidating. Leg bouncing, you looked down at the wooden table top. It wasn’t until Jacob sat down next to you did he finally note your existence.

“Y/n, right?” He asked with a light grunt as he plopped down. You glanced at him, not meeting his eyes as you gave a tight lip smiled and nodded.

“And you’re Jacob?” You questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm, nice to finally get to put a face to a name. Bella’s been talking about you not stop.”

“I have not,” the girl weakly defended. Her cheeks blushed lightly at the accusation. “Only like 3 out of 5 conversations is she mentioned.” she stated.

“Yeah, that's more than you talk about your own lover. Got something you gotta declare to your new friend, Bella?” A small grin washed over your face as she stuttered.

“Well, you don’t like my lover Jacob and you don’t like me talking about him either so that’s why.” Shrugging, the boy placed his hands palm down on to his thighs, not denying her statement. His legs spread, making his knee nudge yours. Instinctively you pulled away. Mumbling a sorry Jake adjusted in his seat.

“Can we just start?” Paul asked, an impatient edge in his tone.

Words of agreement were shared amongst the group.

“How’ve you been liking Forks?” Jacob asked casually, attempting to start conversation.

“It’s been good,” your answer was short and simple.

“Not sick of the wet yet hopefully. Cause if you are, there’s a lot more where that comes from.”

“Tell me about it,” Bella murmured, examining her hand.

Breathing out a laugh you picked up a card and added it to your others as your turn came. Biting your lip once more the memories of how to play began to grow foggy.

“You can lay down the one,” a voice whispered to you. Instantly you retracted your hands to your chest to hide your valuables.

“Are you looking a my-“

And that was the moment where Forks did become intresting.

The moment where Jacob Black’s eyes met yours, the distance between you a mere four or five inches as he was previously peering over your shoulder. The world shifted under your grasp and just by the way his gaze held your own you knew he felt the change as well.

However the closer you looked the more it seemed he was feeling your emotions ten fold. A star struck gleam sparked across his irises. His body froze as his breath became stuck in his throat.

The way Jacob looked at you made it seemed as him he’s known you forever and a minute as admiration casted over him.

Your own frame felt stiff and stuck. Not knowning if you should look away or even if you could. The grasp on your cards grew tight as the table around you was now silent.

What had just happened…?

————

Like and reblogs are appreciated:))

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Career Day Crush - Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC

A/N: I was inspired to write this while prepping pictures of pilots for my class at work today and now, here we are, taking on two multipart fics at once.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC (can easily swap her name for a y/n situation)

warnings/content: Bob being awkward and cute, Hangman's son being just like Hangman, Hangman as a dad, secondhand embarrassment.

word count: 1.8k

“Alright, class, can we all thank Sadie’s dad for coming in to talk to us about being a firefighter? What an interesting career choice we could make!” You forced a smile as you politely clapped your hands for your guest speaker, the crowd of 7 year olds in front of you following suit, clapping and smiling as they chattered about how cool Sadie’s dad was for driving a fire truck. 

You looked down at your agenda for the day and read the hastily handwritten list you’d prepared for yourself earlier that morning to see who, if anyone, would be joining your class next. You nodded your head as you read the name and smiled sweetly at little Boone in the front row of the room, laughing softly. 

“Next,  we’re going to hear from Boone’s dad, Lieutenant Seresin about what it takes to be a fighter pilot for the US Navy!” You said with a somewhat forced enthusiasm to your voice, tired of trying to be the hype man for each parent as they came in to share what they did for a living to their child’s friends and classmates. You smiled warmly as Boone’s father, Jake walked in, dressed fully in his flight suit, his helmet tucked under his arm for emphasis. You noticed a second man, similar in height to Jake, follow in behind him. This man had lighter hair, worn longer than Jake’s and combed back into a military approved style, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a soft, shy smile as he waved to your class. His cobalt blue eyes were almost breathtaking as they wandered in your direction. As he met your gaze, he gave you a soft smile before folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Jake.

“Hi guys!” Jake said with a friendly smile, waving to the group of eager faces watching him, “I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin, and this, is Lieutenant Robert Floyd. We both fly in the US Navy, but we have two different jobs. I’m the pilot, so I actually fly the plane itself, but, my friend Lieutenant Floyd is what we call a Weapons Systems Officer, or WSO for short. He sits in the backseat of a two-seater plane and makes sure the lasers and missiles and all that fun stuff back there is working properly when we need it to.”

Lieutenant Floyd nodded his head in agreement as Jake spoke, before smiling at the children himself and beginning to talk.

“You might be wondering why we have names written on our helmets, these are called our callsigns, callsigns are how we talk to one another in the air when we need to. My callsign is Bob,” Lieutenant Floyd gestured to his helmet as he showed it to the glass, smiling proudly as the children ooh’ed and ahh’ed over it. Jake held up his own helmet as well, gesturing to the font splayed across the top.

“My callsign is Hangman, like the spelling game you guys might play in class sometimes!”, He explained enthusiastically. 

You had to hand it to Jake, he had certainly captivated your students better than any other speaker of the day had. Maybe it was his charm and charisma, or the fact that his job was a little more unique than being a firefighter, or a teacher or a truck driver. You couldn’t figure out what it was, but something about him and his friend had completely gained control of your normally somewhat unruly group of children, certainly better than you could have done at this point in a Friday afternoon.

As the two men wrapped up their career day presentation for your class, fielding any and all questions your curious students had for them for the last thirty minutes, you couldn’t help but notice Lieutenant Floyd catching your eye, as if he was stealing shy glances over at you as he and Jake stood at the front of the room. When the bell rang to dismiss the children, Boone raced up to his dad and Lieutenant Floyd, giving them each a big hug.

“Dad, Uncle Bobby, that was great!” The little boy, a carbon copy of his father in terms of looks and determined, fiery attitude, said with a grin that nearly made his whole face vanish.

“Awesome, buddy, I’m glad we could come talk to you and your friends!” Jake smiled as he put his arms around the boy, ruffling his hair. Lieutenant Floyd knelt down to him and smiled giving him a hug as well.

“Any time, little guy!” he said with a smile.

You approached the two men and smiled, offering your hand out for them to shake, your way of showing thanks to them for taking time out of their Friday to come talk to your class. You smiled as Jake stood up to his feet, shaking your hand firmly as he returned the smile.

“Thank you so much for coming out today, both of you. It really means a lot to the kids. They really enjoyed it! The helmets were a good addition, they’ll be talking about those forever,” A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head slightly, thinking about how many times you’ll hear about the fighter pilots and their helmets over the course of the next week or so. 

“Anytime, Bob and I didn’t have anything going on today for training, so we were able to make the time to come visit! Plus that, I can’t miss an opportunity to be “Boone’s super cool dad” to a bunch of 7 year olds, right pal?” He let out a hearty chuckle as he ruffled Boone’s hair again.

Jake looked to Bob, who was now quietly standing behind Jake, a soft smile on his features as he waitied politely for the two of you to finish your conversation. Jake shook his head and laughed again, gesturing between you and Bob with a nod.

“Sorry, Bob, this is Boone’s teacher, he absolutely loves her to pieces, don’t ya, big guy?” Boone nodded his head, a big grin on his face as he looked between you and Bob, his tiny face seeming to take note of the way Bob was now looking at you.

“Uncle Bobby must like you too, Miss T, his cheeks got all red just now! Dad says that happens sometimes when you think a girl is pretty. D’ya think Miss T is pretty, Uncle Bobby?”

You and Bob exchanged uncomfortable laughs and awkward glances at one another before looking away. You knew Boone was just innocently speaking what he thought was true, but at that moment, you sort of wished the floorboards of the school would open up beneath your feet, the ground swallowing you whole so you could hide and shield your embarrassment. Jake looked down at his son and chuckled, breaking the awkwardly silent tension as Bob stole a glance towards the exit, looking as if he was contemplating whether or not he could just make a run for it and meet up with Jake and Boone later on.

“Bud, we can’t just say stuff like that, sometimes people don’t want other people to know if they find them pretty. Sometimes you gotta keep it a secret so they can tell that person themself, you know?”

“Oh, right, sorry Uncle Bobby, sorry Miss T,” Boone shrugged his shoulders, still not quite understanding why it had to be a secret if his uncle thought his teacher looked nice that day, but in the mind of a child, you supposed nothing about adult dating rituals made a whole ton of sense. 

“C’mon bud, let’s get going, ok?” Jake put a hand on his son’s shoulder before giving you a friendly glance and departing the room, leaving Bob to his own devices. You could have sworn as you saw Jake leaving that he gave his friend a wink and a thumbs up, and if you hadn’t caught the mischievous grin on Boone’s face as father and son left together, you would have sworn that this wasn’t intentional. 

A look of panic flashed across Bob’s features, shaking his head as he let out an awkward laugh, his hand resting on the back of his neck, scratching at his hairline as he shook his head, looking between the door and you.

“Sorry ‘bout Boone, he’s just like his dad, got a big mouth on that little guy, he’s lucky he’s cuter than Jake is, he can get away with it.”

“It’s ok, I’ve been told more awkward things by small children than hearing that their uncle might think I’m pretty,” You helped, trying to take away some of the tension between the two of you, “Jake didn’t properly introduce me either. My name’s Grace. Grace Taylor. Most people call me Gracie though.”

“Well, he did introduce me, but please, just call me Bob. I don’t even go by Lieutenant Floyd unless it’s a military event or something. Bob is just…more me. Nice to meet you, Gracie.” 

He offered you his hand, shaking yours as they met in a handshake that was much more gentle and soft than the one exchanged between you and Jake moments earlier. Bob’s hand practically swallowed yours whole as he shook it, and you couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason he was so gentle was that he feared he might hurt you if he shook too abruptly, like he simply wasn’t in tune with his own strength yet. 

“I should probably get going, Jake’s my ride back to base, it’s a long walk if he leaves without me,” He chuckled before looking towards the door. His eyes landed back on you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice how deep a shade of blue they were. They were…indescribably blue. The olive green hue of his flight suit pulled out every hint of tan in his skin, making him appear even more sun-kissed than you imagined he’d look had he worn something else. 

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to be left in a school on a Friday night, do you?” You smirked at him playfully as you leaned your behind against your desk as you faced him with your arms folded across your chest. 

“It’s not ideal, especially with an 8am training tomorrow.”

Bob politely excused himself again and headed for the door before turning on the heel of his perfectly polished uniform shoe, a wide grin on his features as he pointed his finger in your direction.

“By the way, Boone was right. I do think you’re pretty, Gracie. I may have to come by to pick my honorary nephew up from school more often now.”

And with that, Bob was out the door, leaving you blushing like a schoolgirl with a little crush as you began cleaning up your classroom. 

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Go-go Dancer (Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader) one shot

A/N: this is based off the unreleased Lana Del Ray song, I was listening to it while writing this lol. Anyways, OOC Miguel, this hasn’t been proofread so ignore typos and whatnot. Mdni

Age gap (legal), cursing, mentions of sex/sexual stuff, sex worker, reader is from a wealthy family like loaded, Miguel being lonely and needy lol. Miguel being a bit of a prev.

(Y/F/N)- your full name, (Y/N)- you’re name [first name only],

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist

—

I drop it like it's hot on the pole, on the pole

Shining in the club, neon gold, neon gold

They call me "Firecracker" and alcohol's a factor

I drop it like it's hot, baby bold, baby bold

A little bit of fun for your soul, for your soul

They call me "Firecracker", 'cause ain't nobody faster

—

The beeping of a moving truck had gotten Miguel’s curiosity as he peeks out of the blinds from his living room window. The house next to him had been empty for sometime, so seeing that someone had moved in was a surprise. What was more of a surprise was him seeing you, a young, attractive woman that had made his mouth dry and his blood rush down to his dick, being handed the keys to the home next to his, a big smile of joy on your face. Now, Miguel wasn’t loaded but he was certainly well off, being one of the top scientist at Alchemax, he sure made a pretty penny, so seeing some young 20-something college student buying the two-story home next to his in one of the nicer neighborhoods in Nueva York was a bit of a sight. He quickly came to the conclusion that you probably came from money. He took a sip of his coffee as he started to walk away from the window, deciding it was time for him to get dressed and ready for work when he heard his doorbell ring. He stopped in his tracks, raised a brow, before turning back around and opened his front door and met face to face with you. He had to grip his coffee when you opened those beautiful lips to speak, so he didn’t drop it.

“Hello!” You smiled, putting a hand out for him to shake, “My name is (Y/F/N), I’m your new neighbor.” You smiled from ear to ear, you were more beautiful close up. Miguel cleared his throat, before bringing his hand to meet you, giving it a firm squeeze and shake.

“Hello (Y/N), My name is Miguel O’Hara, nice to meet you.” His tone was calm and collected, unlike his mind. His whole body felt like it was on fire from just touching your hand, until you finally pulled it away.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr.O’Hara.” You say with a smile, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked

Fuck.

It took everything within Miguel’s power to not roll his eyes to the back of his head and let out a lewd groan, the way you said Mr.O’Hara-fuuuuck. It didn’t help that Miguel hasn’t been with a woman since his divorce a year ago.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He said in a steady voice as best he could, bringing his hand down to his side, giving you a small smile that made you weak in your knees, “Let me know if you need anything, my door is always open.” And he meant anything.

“Thank you Mr. O’Hara, I’ll see you around.” You said with a small wave as you finally walked off his front door, it took Miguel a second to tear his eyes off your figure as you left.

—

I'm the girl next door, let me come in

I know I go-go dance but I do it for kicks

I never have to work 'cause my daddy is rich

—

“Sorry to bother you Mr. O’Hara, but I was on my way to class and I noticed that some of your mail was mixed in with mine.” You said before handing him a stack of mail, your freshly manicured hand just ever so slightly grazing against the side of his. Miguel ignored the spark he felt run though his body, instead focusing on the very expensive looking Cartier bracelet that wasn’t there last time he saw you.

“Is that a new bracelet?” He asked with a raised brow, using his free hand to point at the bracelet while his other one grabbed his mail, you just smiled, a small giggle escaping your lips as you brought up your hand to eye level so he could take a better look at it, your giggle made his blood pressure spike.

“Oh yeah, my father bought it for me, it’s nice isn’t it?” You giggled.

Ahhh. It all made sense now, your daddy was rich.

“Oh yeah, very nice.” Miguel said with a sly smile, tucking the pile of mail under his armpit as he let out a small chuckle, his chuckle made your heart flutter. “Did he also buy you your house and that bmw in your driveway?” He teased.

A blush creeped up on your face, your hand rubbing the back of your neck as you gave him a sheepish smile, “yeah, I told him that he didn’t need to, that’s I didn’t need his help with the money but he insisted.” You explained, causing his eyebrow to raise in curiousity.

“Oh so you’re a college student and you're working huh?” You just nodded to his question before he continued, “…if you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for work?” He asked, and he swears he saw a glimmer in your eyes after the question was asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting...”

—

I'm partyin' all night, shinin' in the lights

Is it a crime to wanna shine

In my white go-go boots and my silver design?

I know it makes you wild

I know it makes you wild

—

Today was the day, Miguel O’Hara was turning 37 today, and he knows he isn’t old old, but being in charge of the arachno-humanoid poly multiverse, plus the Spider-Man of Nueva York AND being a scientist at Alchemax, he felt like his body was aging a lot faster due to stress.

So he wasn’t looking forward to when his coworkers/friends, Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker had dragged him out of his office later that night, finding himself standing outside of a random night club.

“I’m not going in there.” Miguel glared at Jess, who just smiled and nodded her head with a laugh.

“Oh yes, you are.” She said to Miguel, who just huffed and was about to reply, but was stopped when he left Peter’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him to the other side of the double doors.

Once he and his two spider-friends make it through the doors, Miguel was assaulted with loud explicit music, the place was dim, but somehow also bright from all the red and orange stage lights. The smell of sweat and alcohol filled the air, and not to mention all the cages, the poles, the stage and the tables, all filled with provocatively dressed women dancing to the beat of the music. It was almost otherworldly, extremely different from the calm and quiet atmosphere from the outside of the club.

It took Miguel a second to snap out of his thought, he didn’t even noticed when Peter had put a glass of Rum and Coke in his hands, he was about to turn around and leave the club, wanting to go home and pretend the night didn’t happen, but his body froze and his eyes widen in shock at the sight in front of him.

It was you, (Y/N), his neighbor dancing on top of a table. Wearing a red feathery short miniskirt that barely covers your ass, black fishnets, red platform boots that stop at your calf, and a red bedazzled bralette with tassels that would hit your exposed stomach lightly with your twisted your torso and hips. Miguel’s mouth went dry as he watched your body move effortlessly to the music, your hair swinging behind you as you danced, Miguel couldn’t help but stare at the sight in front of him.

You could have killed him from your beauty right there and then.

Jess and Peter noticed his staring too, giving each other a smirk and a look, before Jess walked off to find a worker, requesting a private room as a “birthday surprise” for Miguel.

—

I'm your go-go dancer, midnight answer

Jukebox sweetheart, queen of the night

—

“Hello Mr.O’Hara.” You smiled as you entered the private room, where Miguel was already sitting, locking the door behind you before you continued, “I heard it’s your birthday. Why don’t you let me give you a very special present to celebrate.”

—

Vegas baby, if you pay me

Anything you like

Go-go-g-go-go dancer tonight

—

[wyniepooh]

Want

stuck in a dark, crowded bar, stuck against aaron hotchner. you want him to give in, he just wants you.

oh my GOD EXTREME tension. in fact the only plot point can be summed up in one word: TENSION. mentions of alcohol and tipsiness. bau!reader struggling with a particular case, hotch comforts… and does a little more 😊

the music was blaring entirely too loud.

your second drink was starting to become watered down as the light buzz you craved swarmed your head from your first. when you touched the cold glass, water wet your warm fingertips. a strong breeze enabled you to shiver and look towards the entrance, where a large group of young college students swarmed into the already stuffed and cramped room.

your ears had began to ring, and the flickering lights were making your eyes heavy with pain. you thought about walking out, getting some night air, and feeling the moonlight shine on your face. but when you finally decided to try and get up, there was barely any space left for you to even lift your arms up. you sighed, sitting back down on the beat up stool, elbows resting on the bar table.

“you okay?” the familiarly deep voice asked. you turned your head to reveal aaron behind you, still wearing what he had on this morning in the bau headquarters— his usual, perfectly tight suit with a scarily neat tie. the only noticeable difference in his appearance was that his usually gelled hair was, god forbid, messy. a couple stands of dark hair fell in front of his forehead.

you flashed him a brief smile, “yeah, fine.” you fiddled with the flashy umbrella toothpick in your glass.

he raised his brows, saying nothing because he knew the look in his eyes said it all. he knew how you really felt, but he also knew you would never admit you were anything but fine.

“still thinking about the case, aren’t you?”

you scoffed, “how could i not?” as you took another sip of your drink, images of the various children that were rescued from an abandoned truck flashed through your mind. they were alive, yes. but how could they possibly live life like they used to before? do they even remember what it was like? the sound of a screaming girl filled your brain.

you ran both your hands through your hair, letting out a loud sigh. “god, i hate when kids are involved.”

“i know. me too.”

“they just..” you gulped back a stone in your throat, “they’re so innocent. or, they were once. but now… it’s all gone. i hate that they won’t ever chase butterflies or play in the sand box again, or play in the snow or get ice cream on the beach. all those memories are ruined for them now.”

aaron let out a sigh. a beat passed, and you knew he was thinking of what to say. after a moment, the silence was interrupted by his hushed voice. “agent. they may not have their childhood anymore, but they’ll continue to have their teenagehood, their adulthood, maybe their motherhood or fatherhood. and it’s all because of the work you’ve done. the work we’ve all done. focus on the good. instead of thinking about what they were, think about what they will be.”

you lowered your head slightly, your hair falling to cover you face. you smiled to yourself over his words. fuck, he always knew what to say. why did he always have to know what to say?

a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as he settled on the stool beside you. he declined the bartender for a drink with a firm extend of his hand, turning his whole body towards you instead. you opened your mouth, then closed it. you wanted to thank him, or at least say something. but no words could be heard coming from your mouth.

aaron, as usual, noticed your discomfort. he tilted his head towards the door with a soft grin and said,

“let’s get out of here.”

you chuckled gratefully, nodding and pushing back your stool to allow yourself to try and get up once again. but before you could turn around, a sudden push pressed your stomach harshly against the bar table.

you exclaimed quietly before looking back at the crowd and rolling your eyes as a sigh came over you. you were completely trapped between the bar table and a group of drunk, dancing, college guys singing annoyingly off-key. seeing your position, hotch comes over and wedges himself between you and a drunk guy who was letting his hands fall a little too close to your tight jeans.

with his chest to your back, he rested a light hand on your arm, leaning down to whisper, “are you okay?”

your face flushed at the close proximity, his hand placement, and the way his words tingled your ears. you were suddenly thankful the room was so dark and swarming with strobe lights, as it was hopefully concealing your ragged breaths and red cheeks. you cleared your throat before responding.

“yeah, fine. just…” you wiggled and attempted to turn, “…totally stuck,” you chuckled.

another push came from behind, both his arms coming down to grip the bar table in front of you.

“just stay like this for a while. we’ll sneak out once this song ends and they stop singing like maniacs and spread out a little more.”

you nodded in response, your head down in embarrassment as you notice just how tight you two are pressed together, and how big his hands look resting on the table compared to yours. people on the dance floor began to move to the beat of the music, the waves of pushes like currents in the sea during a stormy night. another push. and another. one after the other.

whenever you turned your head or adjusted your position, you felt a rush of warm air kiss your ears, making your arms feel like jelly. you were glad the stool aided you in holding you up, as clearly, your arms couldn’t do the job any longer.

it certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve felt so nervous and electrified around aaron, but each time you did, you manage to surprise yourself with just how tender you get.

ever since you walked into the bau building, you knew you were screwed. just up laying eyes on aaron hotchner, you knew your days would suddenly start to feel longer. aaron with his neatly ironed suits, aaron with his gucci ties. aaron with his soothing, dark, voice, neat hair, and clean cologne. aaron who always, always checked up on everyone, aaron who would lightly touch your arm or caress the side of your face. aaron who says “atta girl”, and taps his hand on your back when he hugs. aaron who gave you soft smiles when other weren’t looking and aaron who only occasionally laughed at your lame jokes.

it was no surprise, really, that you had begun to look forward to getting up every morning to go to work.

a particularly harsh bump pushed aaron firmly against you, and a grunt make it’s way past his lips. it was hard to tell with all your senses on alert and tingling, but you heard him mumble something incoherently under his breath. you inhaled sharply, shaking your head quickly to get rid of the butterflies in your stomach.

you told yourself maybe it was the alcohol speaking. maybe the strobe lights were making you hallucinate, or maybe the music was making you think of other things. all of it was responsible for making you imagine the quickening of aaron’s heartbeat against your back, his ragged breaths, the way his hands tightened it’s grip on the table.

but really, in that moment, the music zoned out. your eyes no longer hurt from the flashing lights and everyone disappeared from view. it was just you, and him.

you finally found the courage to turn your head and look back at him, his forehead a little sweaty and his lips pursued. you looked down quickly. the both of you were so close, yet so far. he was holding back. his need, his desire. a fated push caused aaron’s nose to rub roughly against yours, and your broken breaths synced. you leaned forward, your nose still on his. you opened your mouth as if to say something, but you said nothing. you didn’t need to.

you eyes moved up to try and find his, but he was already looking at you. one of his hands came down to rest on your stomach, inching you even deeper against him. he leaned down, his lips barely brushing yours. it was completely silent for a moment. then, he breathed,

“do you want this?”

-

a/n: consent is sexy everyone 😇

[websterss]

MATTERED TO ME MORE — WES BENNETT

REQUEST: Smoking with Wes 🙏🙏

WARNING(S): none really, angsty, fluff, mentions of smoking????

WORD COUNT: 2,130

PAIRING: Wes Bennett x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! @biqherosix​ it’s done bby! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Wes had been reclined back in the lawn chair behind his house. The secret place, the only place really to give him any peace of mind. He inhaled the Swisher Sweet cigarette, then watched as a puff of smoke blew out past his lips. He was too lost in his own thoughts, that he missed that creak of the gate door being pushed open. 

“Thought that was you...” He blew out another puff as he turned to see the culprit who disrupted the quiet he was bathing in. 

“Hey?” He raised a brow, confused as to why you were suddenly in the Secret Area. “What are you doing here?” He sat upright.

“Saw the fairy lights on from my window...” You pointed in the direction of your house. “Thought I’d come say hi...so hi.” You breathe out a laugh, feeling awkward under his stare, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes raked you from head to toe. You looked away to avoid his awed expression. 

Wanting to cut the tension and silence with a knife, you looked up playfully, a smirk on your lips as you flaunted and posed in a funny way. “What do you think? I was going for How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and The Wedding Date?” You give him a little twirl.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me...I would’ve guessed What a Girl Wants.” He smirks. You roll your eyes as you walk over and plop into the chair beside him. You sigh feeling the heat from the firepit, thankful for the warmth you were provided. You reclined back into the seat, your gaze trailing up to the minimal stars in the sky tonight. Wes couldn’t help the faint smile as he watched you. Two people admiring something beautiful to them. He would’ve thought that you’d be at after prom, taking advantage of a fun night with the rest of the student body, but to his surprise, you were home, and now you were here...right beside him. “What time you’d go to prom? I didn’t see you there.” He took another drag. You turned away from the sky to find his eyes already on you. You almost gasped at how intensely his eyes met yours. You didn’t want to fully get into the awful night you were having, but you always felt the need to let yourself be just a little vulnerable in front of the curly-haired boy. 

“I...actually didn’t even go to prom.” You chuckled to ease your nerves. 

“What? What do you mean?” He sat upright once more. 

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell you but...you know how you usually see the protagonist or the best friend getting canceled at the last minute before the school dance in movies?

“Yeah...” He furrowed his brows.

“You expect it right? Because the climax of the movie makes it obvious, you expect it.” Wes nods a ‘yeah’ at you. Then it only takes a second for the obviousness to hit him like a truck.

“Don’t tell me...” He frowns.

“You just don’t expect it when your actual prom date says he’s taking someone else right before he’s supposed to pick you up. So there’s that...” You shrug. You exhale, feeling stupid and insecure. You shake your head, a chuckle spilling past your lips. “The worst part was that my mom was so excited, she had bought a disposal camera and everything. So imagine her disappointment when her daughter tells her, her date is suddenly taking someone else.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n...” Wes didn’t know what to say. 

“It’s not your fault.” You turn to him, eyes wide in sincerity. He reciprocated your smile. Not an inch of sadness written across your features, if you were consoling how you were really feeling, then you weren’t showing it. “It’s cool...besides I’m getting to spend my night with my favorite neighbor.” You nudge his sneaker with yours. 

“Me? I thought for sure that Liz would claim such a title.” He laughs.

“No...Not after Michael ditched me last minute to take her...but I guess I can’t be entirely mad, she did like him after all.” You finally confess. A careless shrug not missed by him. This had him sitting forward.

“Wait- Michael? As in Michael Young? Michael Young ditched you for Liz Bauxbum.”

“Saying his name three times in a row won’t soften the blow, Bennett...” You roll your eyes. “Yeah, he did. Gimme.” You motion to the cigar in his hands. He passes it over, watching as you take a drag out of it. Not as experienced as he was, you let out a cough as the smoke hits your lungs.

“What an ass.” Wes takes the cigar back from you.

“Eh, what else can a girl do? Cry over him?” You sigh. You dig the toe of your shoe into the dirt.

“That’s not right though. It’s your prom too. He ruined it.”

“Can’t ruin something that I wasn’t looking forward to in the first place Benett...besides he wasn’t the one who I really wanted to go with anyway. He too had a date.” You spare a glance at him, hoping he didn’t catch on. “It’s better this way, better to have stayed here than have gone alone. I don’t think I’d have had any fun anyway.” 

“Yeah no, I can’t accept that.” You watch baffled as he gets up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Come on.” He extends his hand out for you to grab.

“What?”

“Come on get up.” He motions with his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere.”

“Okay...” You eye him questionably as you take his hand and stand. Once you're up he pulls you to one side of the fire pit. “What are we doing Bennett?” You laugh as he pockets his phone. 

“Michael’s an ass. You deserve at least one dance tonight.” He offers his hand to you again, not forcing you to take it this time. He gave you the option to choose for yourself. You’re taken back by his offer. You’re even more taken when Alina Baraz’s “Electric” featuring Khalid starts to play from his speaker. 

Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea You got everything, you got what I need Touch me, you're electric, babe

Your head turns to the music filling your ears. Wes waiting patiently. It was quite odd to you. His behavior all of a sudden. Wes was kind, that wasn’t a lie, and he liked to mess with Liz any chance he got, he was playful, sometimes annoying, but he wasn’t always so forward with his feelings. Hell, the dude never really did a good job to hide his infatuation with the redhead that lived in between you two. You were sure he liked her, so you questioned this moment. Wondering why? Why would he care so much to ensure you got to have at least one dance? You didn’t even go to prom? Maybe he was just being nice. 

Wes was nice. He was nice and attractive and...

“You took Alex to prom...” You said out of the blue. The thought crossed your mind all of a sudden. 

“I-I did...” He took his hand back. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You took Alex to prom but Liz didn’t have a date then. You took Alex to prom.” You stated out loud. “Liz was without a date so why wouldn’t you have asked her instead?” You turn around and walk a few steps away from him. Wes was confused about what you were trying to get at. “That doesn’t make sense to me. You’ve liked her since the second grade. I’ve watched you tease and torment her for years, and chase after her. You have room in your damn driveway, Bennett. You weren’t fooling anyone by taking her spot. It doesn’t make sense.” You pull at your hair. “The girl you've been in love with for years was right there, and you took Alex! What the fuck dude!” You exclaim. 

“Are you serious right now?” Wes’s shoulders drop. 

“Yeah, I am! It’s not like she had a date!” You had missed the hurt in his eyes as he looked at you. He could not believe what he was hearing. Had you really not noticed?

It looks like it.

“Yeah, she did!” He exclaimed louder than you.

“So the girl you really wanted to go with had a date? That’s what you’re going him. That’s your excuse?” You scoff at him. Hands crossed over your chest. 

“Yes! I don’t understand why we’re talking about Liz. She doesn’t matter right now. I wanted to dance with you.” The last sentence goes over your head entirely as you shout at him next.

“Because you’re being ridiculous. She was free and you just passed up the opp-”

“No, she wasn’t!” Wes grows frustrated with you.

“Liz didn’t have a date yet, Wes!” You try to reason.

“No, but you did!” He points at you. You freeze up.

“Wait what...” You mutter.

“I’m aware that Liz didn’t have a date, I am, but you did. So I took Alex instead...” He looks away. 

“You took Alex because I had a date?” His words slowly begin to register.

“Yeah, and imagine my surprise when you didn’t even show up.” He kicks out a rock. You furrow your brows. 

“But Liz-”

“What about Liz, Y/n? Who cares about Liz right now.” He lets out a chuckle.

“But I thought you- all the years you’ve- the frogs down her shirt?”

“Liz always had a knack for keeping you all to herself. The so-called teasing and tormenting was to try and get her to tell me something about you. The only thing she ever really told me willingly was that you were allergic to nuts.” He smiled as a memory invaded his mind. “I remember my mom used to get so mad at me for throwing out her pecan pies.” He chuckled, his twinkling eyes met your awed expression. “Just the thought of you even being near anything with nuts scared me.” He confessed, a faint smile painting his lips. 

“You knew about my allergy?” Your eyes glistened. 

“Since we were seven.” Wes nodded. 

“Is that why you never offered me Snickers or the yellow M&M’s, except to everyone else?” You breathe out a faint laugh. It was all making sense.

“Yeah...I didn’t want you to swell up or break out into hives. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”

“I just thought you had some vendetta against me or something.” You giggled. 

“With you? Never Y/L/N.” He shook his head. You nodded and looked down, then brought your gaze back up to him. 

“I never knew you did all that.” You smiled graciously. “I haven’t had an incident in years, except last month, but you’ve all but kept me nut free.” You joked. Wes perked up at the mention of you having a recent reaction.

“Last month?” Wes frowned.

“I guess you could say it was kind of a sign. Michael made me have a reaction.” You wince. 

“Were you okay?”

“Yeah, luckily Liz was there too. She knew where I kept my EpiPen.” You nodded. “If anything, you’ve taken my health more seriously than anyone else ever has. That alone I can’t thank you enough for.” You slowly walk up to him and go in for a peck on his cheek. But just to your luck he turned his head right as your lips were about to meet his skin. “Oh.” You gasped, as your lips were collided together for a mere second. You pull away slowly but get pulled back closer this time. Wes wraps a hand around one side of your waist and tugs you closer.

“I don’t know if you even remember this, but when we were six, you had a really bad reaction. I don’t recall what exactly it was, maybe something my mom gave all of us. I remember turning to look at you and you couldn’t breathe.” You furrow your brows trying to recall the memory. “I thought you were gonna die because you kept gasping for air and I just remember my parents rushing you over to your house. You were fine after an hour, but I knew then I never wanted to see that happen to you again.” He reached up to caress your cheek. “Since that day, your health has never mattered to me more.”

"It has?” Your eyes glistened again.

“Still does.” Those two little words welcomed a deeper meaning. It was all it took for you to reach forward and bring his lips down onto your own. He sighed in relief, as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.